Free Mother, Please! by Brenda Novak, Alison Kent, Jill Shalvis Page A

, Gunner closed his mouth and lowered his lids so that he was watching her from under his lashes. Just when he felt he was getting the best of his innocent little opponent, she unwittingly pulled out a trump card like this one and changed everything—like his image of the “perfect” female body. He’d thought bigger breasts were sexier. He’d always preferred his women with more curves. But now that he’d seen April, he knew he liked his women slender, with breasts the size of his cupped hand and toffee-colored nipples that puckered to perfection whenever he looked at them.
    “You’re making some real strides,” he said to encourage her.
    She took a seat directly across from him, slightly flushed from the heat and the daring of what she’d done. “I know. Isn’t it great? The people at mywork wouldn’t even know me. Last night I played poker. Today I’m skinny-dipping.”
    “You’re wearing my boxers,” he pointed out. “That’s hardly skinny-dipping.”
    “I’m doing this by degrees,” she said confidently.
    That sounded hopeful. “You planning to go another degree today?” he asked.
    She bit her lip thoughtfully, then shook her head. “No.”
     
    S HE HADN’T EVEN let him touch her. She got into his Jacuzzi. She got out. That was it.
    And now, three hours later, Gunner was still thinking about those few moments and aching for more.
    Claire was golfing with the party ahead of them. He returned her wave and placed his ball on the tee of the eighth hole, feeling decidedly morose. He’d never played such a poor game of golf. April was hell on his concentration. Every time he heard her laughing or talking, which she seemed to be doing quite freely with the other two members of their group—her father and Keith Bodine—he pictured her half-naked and out of reach, and hacked his ball into the rough or overshot the put.
    This hole he managed a little better. His balldropped just inside the green instead of landing in the surrounding desert.
    Walt took his turn and managed to get fairly close to the flag. Then Keith made them both look bad by putting himself in position to birdie.
    “My turn already?” April said when her father called her to the tee.
    Gunner pulled the bill of his hat a little lower as he watched her step up in her sleeveless golf shirt and formfitting white shorts. His mood darkened further when she tossed a grin at Keith Bodine simply because the man had wished her luck. Given Bodine’s lovesick expression, Gunner was fairly sure he was the plant manager April had wanted to avoid. But she didn’t seem too worried about keeping her distance from him now. Bodine had been helping her at every opportunity, choosing her club for her, showing her the right way to hold it, demonstrating a good swing. She was cutting her flirting teeth on him, and the poor bastard didn’t even know it.
     
    W HEN THEY RETURNED from golf, April talked Gunner into taking her shopping. But as he followed her through the open-air bazaar in town, he didn’t have much to say. “You seem kind of grumpy today,” she complained. “Is something wrong?”
    He told her there wasn’t, but April had noted a distinct change in him since their Jacuzzi experience and was a little mystified that he wasn’t more pleased with her progress.
    “Are you tired?” she pressed.
    “No.”
    “Then what?”
    “Why were you flirting with Keith Bodine if you’re not really interested in him?” he asked.
    She blinked in surprise. Gunner sounded almost…jealous. But he couldn’t be jealous. Which meant he really believed she’d been unkind or irresponsible in some way.
    April reflected on the afternoon and couldn’t come up with a single comment she’d made that might lead Keith to believe she was interested in anything more than being his friend. Gunner had been there, posing as her boyfriend, for Pete’s sake. She’d just been thrilled that at last she felt in charge of her love life and her sexuality, that she