Free Crossing Lines by Alannah Lynne Page A

she needed to move forward with her plan to lure and seduce.
    Michy hopped from foot to foot, waiting for Sam’s answer.
    “I might get in a little later, sweetie.” Right now, I’m going to sit here and work on my diabolical plan.
    The words had barely left her mouth when Michy tossed the towel at her and chirped, “Okay,” then turned and ran full-throttle into the pool. Spencer dropped his glasses on top of his towel and ran after her.
    “She’s devastated I’m not swimming.”
    Kevin’s laugh was deep and throaty. “Yeah, she’s real torn up.” He picked up Spencer’s towel and glasses and set them on the chair before turning toward the house. “I’m gonna grab a beer. Would you like soda, beer,”—he grinned broadly—“whiskey to kill the pain?”
    “Wow, you’re really going to be my cabana boy.” She wasn’t sure, but she might’ve accidentally sighed out loud. “I’m not much of a whiskey girl. The beer sounds great, but I better stick with water. Do you have any ibuprofen?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He crossed his arm over his stomach and bowed gallantly. “Coming right up.”
    Several minutes later, he returned with a bottle of pain reliever and a soft-sided cooler. He unzipped the top, set a Budweiser on the ground at his feet, and grabbed a bottle of water. Holding it out to her, he said, “Sure you don’t want something stronger?”
    A Miller Lite top peeking out of the ice had her biting her lip, reconsidering. The water would be the smart choice, but if she drank a beer, she’d have another excuse not to drive, at least for a while. Better still, it might give her the courage she needed to make her move.
    “Okay, you’ve convinced me,” she said, pointing to the blue and gold cap. “I’ll take the Lite, instead.”
    “Man,” Kevin said as he swiped the back of his hand over his brow. “That was a tough sale.” He popped the top loose and handed her the bottle. “I have plenty more in the house, so drink all you like.”
    She grinned and washed the ibuprofen down with the beer. “This’ll do me. I’m a cheap drunk on a good day. Combined with the drugs, if I have more than this, Michaela and I will have to crash on your couch.”
    He chewed the inside corner of his mouth as his gaze crawled from her legs to her neck. After a quick shake of his head and a long, long pull on his beer, he swung his legs up on his chaise. He stretched one out in front and bent the one closest to her to use as a prop for his forearm.
    “I’ve been wondering about something.”
    “My amazing athletic ability?”
    His grin was quick and fleeting before he sobered and shook his head. “Tell me about your boots.”
    What? My boobs?
    What the hell was she supposed to say about her boobs?
    While she sputtered, looking for an appropriate response, he said, “You’ve obviously had them for a while and didn’t get them strictly for this job.”
    Oh my God. She burst into laughter. And here she thought he’d be Mr. Smooth-moves. “That’s the most original, and ludicrous, come-on I’ve ever heard.” She slipped her hands under her larger-than-average boobs and gave the girls a proud little lift. “Nope, I didn’t get them just for this job. I’ve had them since I was about eleven, maybe twelve. I don’t remember exactly how old.”
    Kevin’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows rose in surprised interest as his eyes followed the lift and bounce. When the girls settled back into place, he shifted his gaze to hers with the funniest what-the-fuck expression she’d ever seen. He blinked a few times before his face lit up and he threw his head back, laughter pouring out of him. After several moments of unsuccessfully trying to contain his amusement, he took a few deep breaths and wiped his hand over his eyes.
    “I think you misunderstood.”
    He took another deep breath, followed by a long draw on his bottle. After a slow exhale, he seemed satisfied he had himself under control, so he tried