Page 3 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

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Oh my God. He was taking off his shirt. I’d never been to an all-male revue, but I had a feeling it would be like this. And I had a very up-close view. I hopped from my knees and Eve snagged the dirty cloth from my hands as I stared.

And tried not to drool as the man’s bare chest was revealed, one chiseled inch at a time.

“Holy fuck,” Eve whispered, then fled behind the counter to help another customer.

I had never seen a guy his size before. I worked on a construction site and was surrounded by men all day.

Some were big, but not like this. I barely came up to this guy’s shoulder.

His wide, muscular shoulders. I knew they were muscular because they were bare.

Bare! And tanned. And toned. And all the adjectives that were not coming to mind because I couldn’t think straight at the sight of him.

And his thick chest. The smattering of dark hair.

The flat disks of his nipples. I wanted to run my hand over one, then slide down over those abs.

I stared and while I was one semester shy of getting a mathematics degree from MIT, I couldn’t count if he had a six-, eight-, twelve-pack or whatever number he had if my life depended on it.

His jeans hung low on his narrow hips and there were those two deep lines that dipped beneath the waistband, that V thing.

The one that made a woman’s ovaries pop out an egg or two.

He slipped his arms–yeah, they were corded and toned too–through the t-shirt and pulled it over his head, tugging it down over his body, where it barely fit.

“Eyes up here,” he murmured, his voice deep and rumbly.

I flicked my gaze up to his instantly, just as I had the last time he’d said that to me, but I hadn’t been entranced by the sliver of skin that was still exposed between the hem of the t-shirt and the top of his jeans. Now, it was hard to stare at anything else.

Gah!

I could feel my cheeks burning and I glanced quickly away, biting my lip. I’d been ogling him, like a huge slab of meat.

Long fingers lifted my chin back up.

The look in his dark eyes when mine met his didn’t show anger. Little crinkles formed at the corners. He was smiling at me. Me!

The woman who’d–

“The spill,” he said. “It’s over. I got a cool new shirt out of it.” He tugged at the cotton that stretched taut over his abs, at least a size too small. I doubted Eve carried lumberjack-size. The pink color only amplified his manliness.

His grin was lethal. So was the rest of him. Tanned, toned and totally hot. A giant.

He made my brain short circuit and I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “I–” I had no idea what to say.

He was trying to reassure me, which I wasn’t used to. He was being nice. And he called me baby. Of course he called me an endearment. He didn’t know my name.

It was probably how he kept all the women who threw themselves at him–or threw coffee on him–happy without having to remember their names. An easy way not to mess up. That made the most sense, him calling every woman he encountered the same thing.

“Sit with me?” he asked.

Sit with him? What?

“Come on.” He snagged my hand in his big one and pulled me over to the table where I abandoned my work papers.

I settled onto a stool and he sat across from me, never letting go of my hand.

His was like a dinner plate, mine lost in his hold.

The touch was warm. Gentle. His fingers offered mine a small squeeze.

I processed all this as I stared at it in his–his left hand that didn’t have a ring–then thought… HE’S HOLDING MY HAND!

Chill, Bridge.

I pulled it away, tucked it into my lap so I didn't reach out and run my fingers through his dark hair. Threads of gray at the temples caught the sunlight through the window, an indication he was older than me. By a lot. Late thirties, probably.

“I’ll be right back.”

Before I could question what he meant, he took three big steps and grabbed his coffee from the high counter, then the plated cinnamon roll–with a fork poked into the frosting–Eve held out for him. Her smile was a little too big and a little too bright, proving that he could strike all women dumb.

Eve was my friend since 4H back in second grade. We knew each other well although I couldn’t miss her response to him since she fanned herself behind his back. I totally agreed. He could melt any woman’s hard drive.

“Work problems?” he asked once seated, eyes on my papers. They were an amalgamation of invoices, scribbled notes, jotted math workings and blueprint printouts.

So many problems. Like my dumbass boss, Jason, who couldn’t use a calculator. That would involve work and he didn’t like to do it. So as his assistant, I did it for him. When I started back in the winter, I’d just moved back and was desperate for a job.

“I figured it out,” I replied neutrally. Unlike my inability to hold a glass of iced coffee, my job wasn’t his problem. I didn’t need to dump anything else on him.

“I heard you doing some math,” he mentioned, pulling the fork from his cinnamon roll like he was Arthur pulling the sword from the cream cheese frosting covered stone.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his comment.

I was used to being made fun of for what some considered a strange talent.

Ever since I was little and advanced math couldn’t challenge me.

I considered it normal, although I was far from that.

The nerdy girl. The brainiac. “Heard? My brain isn’t that loud. ”

A slow smile crept across his face and my mind blanked. His good looks actually made me stupid.

“I’m impressed.”

I shrugged and stood, not interested in being considered a sideshow for him. That happened to me enough without it being done by the most handsome man I’d ever seen. It was only even more insulting.

“It’s just math.” With a swipe of my hand, I corralled my papers. “I’ll let you enjoy your coffee and roll.”

“No. Stay.” He hopped to his feet which had him looming over me once more. I swallowed hard at his command, and the earnestness behind it. “You never even got your drink.”

Yeah, I didn’t get it. He did. All over him.

He twisted and raised his arm to signal Eve, who somehow understood the hand gesture and held up a replacement iced coffee she’d already made, this time in a to-go cup.

He grabbed it from her and brought it to the table, setting it beside my papers. “There. Like nothing happened except I now get to have coffee with a beautiful woman.”

My mouth fell open, then I snapped it shut and bit my lip to keep it that way.

Beautiful? Me? Right. I didn’t dare look at him because I didn’t want him to be a bullshitter.

My sister, Lindy, always pointed out I could be beautiful if I put some effort in, and I knew I hadn’t put any effort in this morning.

Not with my boss always eyeing my ass. It was better–and smarter–to look as unfeminine as possible around him.

“Aren’t you going to have some of your drink?” he asked, sitting back down. He cut off a section of cinnamon roll and ate it.

“I’m afraid to touch it and spill it on you again,” I admitted, looking down.

I was afraid I would be clumsy, but not afraid in general.

He didn’t give off that vibe. In fact, he oddly felt…

safe. I was also in a coffee shop in broad daylight with Eve as a chaperone.

He seemed nice, except for the lie about me being beautiful.

I couldn’t figure out what he wanted from me for saying that.

I ran my hand over my hair absently and came across the pencil I’d tucked behind my ear.

God, soooo beautiful with my geeky pencil. I practically whimpered in mortification.

He set his fork on his plate so the tines faced down. “Did it ever occur to you that getting covered in coffee was just as much my fault? I stood right behind you.”

I lifted my gaze and met his, surprised. What?

“I–”

He narrowed his eyes in such a way that had me snapping my mouth shut once more before I could argue.

“Drink your coffee, baby.”

I took a sip of my drink. Why? To appease him? Because I was too stunned by the endearment again to do anything else?

“I… I really do have to get back to work,” I told him, holding the full to-go cup between my hands.

I did, but I wanted to leave because sticking around made me feel desperate.

That I was lingering because I wanted some scraps of praise from him, that I really did want to be beautiful.

Except after what I did to him, sticking around only made me feel like I was desperate for exactly that: attention and affection from a handsome man.

Besides, we learned last night the owner of the company, my boss’s boss, was coming to town to inspect the progress of the resort and to go through the issues we were having.

Jason, who didn’t know his ass from his elbow because he consistently looked at mine–ass, not elbow, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he eyed that too–expected a report to share, which meant I had papers to review. Numbers to crunch.

This guy was only being kind. Nothing more. It wasn’t as if he’d be interested in me, regardless of the compliments he gave. Thinking there could be anything real was stupid, and everyone knew I wasn’t that.

I wasn’t looking for a man. In fact, after what happened at college and with Jason, all I wanted to do was hide.

I definitely wasn’t on a manhunt like my sister.

Lindy wanted a husband and a family, and she wanted them five years ago.

Of course, she was thirteen years older and as she said, her clock was ticking.

Me?

I wasn’t even remotely close to getting my own shit together, let alone be girlfriend material.

If Lindy saw me right now, she’d lose her shit that I was sitting here in public and hadn’t done anything with my hair this morning besides pull it back in a hair tie.

Or that I hadn’t touched any of the makeup she’d given me as a passive aggressive Christmas present last year.

Or any of the other reasons she’d find flaws with my appearance.

In front of this guy! God, I was being ridiculous, drooling over him. Feeling things from his words when I shouldn’t.

Beautiful.

Baby.

It was definitely time to go and get back to reality.

“Thanks for the cool shirt,” he replied, pointing at his chest, but all I took notice of was how it highlighted every muscular inch of a man I couldn’t have.

Even though he did everything he could to downplay what happened, I was embarrassed. So I tucked the pencil back behind my ear, pushed my glasses up and fled. Which I was as good at doing as math.