Real Men Don't Quit(7)

Chapter Three

Kingsley Jeffers was a tosser.

Luke had decided that after yet another long, fruitless day in which this made-up man, with whom he’d spent so many months, sulked in some dark recess of his imagination and refused to come out and play. Perhaps his creative well had truly run dry this time. Perhaps his talent was only of middling size. Perhaps he was one of those writers who only had one true book in him.

But deep down he knew the real reason: Kinglsey Jeffers’s Journey was a pretentious book, despite the universal praise. In fact, the acclaim only increased his aversion to his bestseller. The painful realization had been a while in coming. Now he was stuck with the character he’d created, a character he was beginning to dislike with a vengeance.

In the middle of the morning, he’d received another call from Helen, the eldest of his four older sisters. She was still annoyed that he’d quit their mother’s house without telling her, but he’d simply responded with noncommittal grunts.

“I saw Jennifer on TV last night.” Helen had lobbed that into the conversation. “She looked great. Did a fantastic interview with that actor.”

Both his mother and his eldest sister had been thrilled when he and the TV star had gotten together. He and Jennifer had been friends since university, and she’d met his family several times. He hadn’t seen her in a while until last year when she’d interviewed him, and their friendship had suddenly morphed into something more. He hadn’t given their relationship much thought—it was nice and easy and enjoyable, and with Jennifer devoted to her career and he itinerant, it seemed a given the affair was strictly temporary.

A couple of months on, he’d been shocked to discover how serious she was. Seemed she’d always carried a torch for him and wanted him to marry her and start a family, even though they hadn’t even been living together. He didn’t like hurting her or losing her friendship, but he wasn’t going to be steamrollered into something he’d always avoided. The split had been dignified if not amicable. Too bad Jennifer had caught the flu at the time of the breakup and the gossip magazines had gone into a frenzy about her supposed “breakdown.” The blather had intensified the guilt he felt over injuring someone he cared about, and all because of a misunderstanding of the situation.

As soon as he’d managed to shake his sister off the phone, it rang again. The second caller had been his agent, Elliot Elliston, who’d been just as unsubtle as his sister. “When am I going to see that damn manuscript?” he’d griped as soon as Luke answered the call. “You’ve already missed the first deadline by eight months. People are starting to ask questions. Publishing’s a small business. You don’t want to get a bad reputation.”

It couldn’t be a coincidence that Luke’s writer’s block had started around the same time as his mother’s sudden death. The two were inextricably linked. But Luke had no intention of discussing this with anyone, least of all his hard-nosed agent. Instead, he’d assured Elliot that since he now had the peace and quiet of his weekender, it would be no problem completing the hundred-thousand-word manuscript he’d been contracted to deliver.

Now, at four in the afternoon, he stretched out his back and closed his laptop so he wouldn’t have to see that empty screen. This was only his second day at Elliot’s place, and he was still settling in, he told himself. The writing would pick up soon.

He fetched a can of Coke from the fridge and stepped out onto the deck for a breather. The air shimmered with heat, crinkling the hairs on his arms. He’d been inside all day and hadn’t realized how hot it was, but now he could feel a faint sheen building on the back of his neck. The trees drooped, and when he walked onto the lawn, the grass was dry and crisp beneath his bare feet.

From across the fence separating the neighboring property came a young voice, sounding cross. “But he promised,” Chloe said with a moan.

Tyler murmured something back, which Luke couldn’t make out.

“He did too, Mumma!” He had no problem hearing that.

“Oh, baby, we can’t go disturbing him. Don’t you like this pool? Look, it has dolphins on it.”

“But he pinkie promised,” Chloe insisted.

Luke walked across the lawn and stuck his head over the fence to see mother and daughter facing off, a forlorn, blowup plastic pool half-filled with water listing between them. Both females glanced up at him.

“I’m afraid I did pinkie promise Chloe she could swim in the pool,” he said. “You can come over now if you like.”

The little girl let out a squeal, but Tyler didn’t seem as delighted. “I know you only did that to lure her away. I’m not holding you to it. Besides, Chloe needs to learn that when I say ‘no’ I mean it.” She aimed a stern look at her daughter.

But Chloe was too busy hopping with excitement. “Ooh, let’s go swimming.”

Luke concentrated on Tyler. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning when he’d hightailed it out of her shop to get away from that bookstore woman. He didn’t know if Tyler had had her car fixed or caught the bus this morning because he’d kept himself inside all day. Not that he hadn’t thought about her from time to time. Maybe a bit too much. When Kingsley Jeffers wouldn’t be coaxed out, it was far easier to let his thoughts wander to his attractive new neighbor. Easier, and far more pleasurable.

Now, he found himself appreciating her anew. In her raggedy shorts and casual T-shirt, with her hair scrunched into a messy ponytail, she was dressed for comfort but still managed to appear provocative. Or maybe that was his hormones misinterpreting.

“I was going to take a swim myself anyway,” he said as Tyler continued to look doubtful. “So you wouldn’t be disturbing me at all.” At least, not in the way he’d implied. But there were a whole lot of other ways she could disturb him.

“Okay, then.” She smiled. “We’ll be over there in a few.”

Five minutes later, Luke had put on his board shorts and was in the pool when Tyler and Chloe arrived. Chloe, dressed in a pink bathing flotation suit and carrying a bucketful of plastic dolls, tugged at her mother’s hand impatiently, her red curls bouncing. Refusing to be hurried, Tyler removed the towels draped over her shoulders and dropped them on a chair before sauntering up to the edge of the pool with her daughter.

Luke’s throat dried up as he took in the full glory of Tyler’s half-naked body. It wasn’t that her fuchsia bikini was particularly skimpy, but there was something in the way she wore it that got his juices working. He couldn’t take his eyes off her centerfold figure—ripe breasts, trim waist, curvaceous hips, graceful legs. Most women with such assets wouldn’t be able to stop flaunting themselves, but with Tyler there was no parading herself and no fake modesty, either. Instead, she carried an air of breezy self-assurance, as if to say, Sure, I’m sexy, but get over it.

Still riveted, he watched as she jumped into the pool and held out her arms to Chloe, who was dancing excitedly on the edge. With an ear-splitting squeal, the girl launched herself at Tyler, and both of them submerged beneath the water. Chloe bobbed up first, laughing and kicking, then Tyler rose, water cascading over her body. Rivulets trickled on her slick skin, licking her cleavage, tightening the bikini around her breasts. Blood thudded in Luke’s veins, and before he knew it he had a big problem in his shorts. Hell. This was so inappropriate. Thank God he was chest-deep in water. He moved farther away from them into the deep end, trying to think of glaciers, ice, penguins, anything to take his mind off the gorgeous woman in his pool.

Mercifully, he regained control of himself. Determined to keep his thoughts clean, he swam back to them and focused his attention on Chloe. At first she was a little shy of him, but soon he gained her confidence by allowing her to dunk him, and they horsed around the water for ages. Eventually the girl decided her plastic dolls were more fun and climbed out to play with them.

Tyler was sitting on the edge of the pool, long legs dangling in the water. “You’re great with Chloe,” she said as he waded up to her. “She’s usually not so free with people she’s just met.”

“I’ve had experience.” He shrugged, trying not to stare at her bikini.

Her eyebrows rose. “You’ve got children, too?”

“No, nephews and nieces. Eight of ’em.”

“Eight! That’s impressive.”

“I have four older sisters.”

She grinned at him. “That’s some advantage.”

“How so?”

“They must have taught you a thing or two about women.”

“I know about PMS and chocolate and waxing versus shaving, if that’s what you mean.” He smiled wryly.

“There you go, then.” Using her feet, she flicked some water at him. “All vital inside information on females.”

Yes, thanks to his sisters, he’d never had a problem relating to women. He’d also never wanted to settle down with one. But that wasn’t the fault of his sisters. That was all his own decision.

“Yeah, I’ve been handed the secret insider’s guide to women.” He altered his tone, deepening it to fake solemnity. “But with great power comes great responsibility.”