Free Addicted To Him (Man Season) by Mila McClung Page A

glances. Then she dared peer into the azure eyes. They
were all-encompassing; she wished she could swim in them.
    “Oh, I am sorry. I thought you were
talking to my friend. I work in the florist shop, across from your building.”
    “Your friend? Not boyfriend?”
    “Well, I am a friend, and I am a
boy,” Kerry laughed. “But that’s about where it ends. Tegan is like a sister to me.”
    “Nice sister you’ve got.”
    Tegan glanced at Westcott. He was smiling.
Maybe she was asleep – this had to be a dream.
    They sat around, drinking and trading
sound bites with Kerry, until near eight. Tegan realized she was supposed to be meeting her mom, Callie, for dinner.
    “Oh, golly, I’ve got to go or I’ll be
late!”
    “Where?”
    “I’m meeting my mom for dinner.”
    “I can drive you. Where does she
live?”
    “She lives with me, in Glendale . But we’re meeting at Dell’s
Restaurant.”
    “I know where that is. Come on!”
    He stood, reached out a sexy,
muscular hand. She glanced at Kerry. He grinned, nodding for her to accept it. Tegan slipped her hand into Westcott’s; felt a zillion tiny
sparks go through her. Which embarrassed her – she was a virgin, technically,
but of course she’d held a guy’s hand before, among other things – just never a
guy like him. ‘Guy’ seemed like the wrong word to describe him; he was a man.
    “See you tomorrow, Kerry!” she said
as she followed Westcott out the door.
    “You can sleep in, darling,” he
winked. “I’ve got you covered!”
    She passed him a dark look; he
laughed.
    The Jaguar purred like a real cat as
Westcott steered it expertly over the crowded city streets. Tegan watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was so self-assured, knew exactly
where he was going in life. She wished she could be that way. But she’d had an
identity crisis every couple of years since she’d left high school; still
didn’t know where she was going or what course she wanted to follow. A stint at
college bored her to tears – seemed like a racket to her. Never really learned
anything useful for the real world, just how to get drunk and fend off jerks.
    Then she took a course in real
estate, got her license and a starter position in a company – and the housing
bubble burst – the company had to downsize so of course she was the first to
go.
    Her mom helped her find the florist job.
She’d taught her to garden when she was small, so it was an easy gig. But it
was getting tedious. She needed something else, something exciting and
fulfilling.
    “I must be bad company,” Westcott
decided, his luxuriously deep voice startling her.
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Well, you keep drifting off in your
thoughts. Care to tell me what’s captivated your interest?”
    “Oh, nothing in particular; I have a
strange mind. It wanders off in random directions sometimes. I’m sorry.”
    “You have nothing to be sorry about.
It’s my fault if I can’t hold your attention.”
    “Oh, you hold it all right,” she
thought, not daring to speak it out loud. He had the most scintillating smell
about him. She breathed it in, savored it.
    They stopped at a red light. She
glanced at him, noticed he was staring at her.
    “You have a lovely profile. And your
hair is the most intriguing color. I’ve heard it described as strawberry
blonde; reminds me of Venus rising from the sea on a big shell in that famous
painting.”
    “Well, I’ve never been compared to
Venus before. But I can thank my great grandmother Kathleen for my hair color …
she was from Ireland .”
    “Um, I was hoping I could find out
for myself if it was natural. If you know what I mean?”
    Tegan swallowed a hard gulp of air and
coughed.
    “You okay?”
    “Yes, I guess so. The restaurant is
right there.”
    “I can see that.” He parked the car.
She started to open the door but he stopped her. “Wait …”
    She peered into the azure eyes. There
was a fire burning in their depths, full of desire and need.