Free Sandra Hill - [Jinx] by Pearl Jinx Page A

games?”
    “No.”
    “And saying you’re attracted to me?”
    “I am.”
    “See, that’s what I mean.”
    “You’ve lost me here. Speak plainly.”
    I’ve got a dick that’s on cruise control, way over the speed limit.
“You want plain, you get plain. I’ve got a pocketful of condoms. Let’s go back to your place and see if this chemistry you’ve ignited between us sets off any rockets.”
Or out-of-control dicks.
    “Talk about overreaction. All I said was that I was attracted to you. Haven’t any women ever said that to you before?”
    “Sure. Plenty of times. Usually when they were about to shuck their panties.”
    “Jeesh! I’m thirty-five years old and unattached. I have been considering artificial insemination, but when I first saw you, I thought, why bother with test tubes when this stud is carrying the goodies around in his pants.”
    Stud? Goodies?
“Un-be-friggin’-lievable! Do you realize how insulting that is?”
And tempting.
    “Obviously you’re not interested. Subject closed.”
    More like
too
interested.
“Have I mentioned to you how much I like your freckles?” He used a forefinger to trace several from her shoulder to her elbow.
    “Huh?” She shivered at the sensation.
    “Have I told you I’ve been fantasizing about connecting the dots? Between all your freckles. Everywhere.”
    Her jaw literally dropped. After she clicked it shut, she said, “Forget I said anything about ticking clocks or attractions and I’ll forget about rockets and, uh, connecting dots.” Her voice squeaked at that last. “Ahem! End of story.”
    “Hah! That egg ain’t goin’ back in the shell, no way.”
    She grinned, probably at his egg reference.
    He growled.
    Luckily, they were interrupted by Tante Lulu coming toward them.
    Or not so luckily.
    “Yoo-hoo, Caleb. Lookee who I found down at the farmers’ market.” The old lady was leading a man around the house toward them. Tonight her hair was still curly blonde, but she’d covered it with a straw farmer’s hat, and she wore dwarf-size coveralls. This must be her go-to-farmers’-market outfit. “He dint wanna come, but I tol’ him St. Jude dint lak it when folks ignore miracles. And this is fer sure a St. Jude kind of miracle.”
    At first Caleb couldn’t see in the dim light.
    And then he could.
    “Son of a bitch!” he muttered.
    The man came right up to Caleb, practically nose to nose. “Our mother is not a bitch, and dontcha be sayin’ so.”
    Here stood a mirror image of himself, except for the Amish clothing. Black broadcloth trousers, suspenders, flat-brimmed hat, beard.
    It was his twin brother.
    “Jonas?” he said tentatively. He knew it was his brother, but he hadn’t seen him in seventeen years. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him.
    Instead of answering, his brother shoved him in the chest and gritted out, “Whatcha been doin’ all these years, ya
dummkopf?
Where ya been?”
    “Since when do you care?” He shoved him back.
    Jonas made a disgusted sound. “You shouldna left thataway, Caleb.
Ach,
the damitch ya caused!”
    “Oh, I have a pretty fair idea. Dat drummed that into me, literally, before I left. And by the way, it’s nice to see you again, Jonas. How’s life treating you? You must be in hog heaven, running the farm. It’s what you always wanted.”
    “
Ach!
You are such a lunkhead.
Doppitch, doppitch, doppitch!
”
    Dumb, dumb, dumb, huh? I could tell you a thing or two about dumb, brother.
He wanted to ask about Dat and Mam but couldn’t bring himself to mention such a sore subject. Instead he asked about both sets of their grandparents.
    Jonas shook his head sadly. “Grossmanni Effie and Grossmanni Jean, along with Dawdi Etters and Dawdi Peachey, are all gone to Glory more than five years now.”
    How sad and even obscene that he hadn’t been aware that four people who’d been so close to him had died!
    “Ya asked if I’m enjoyin’ the farm, Caleb. Well, here’s news for ya. I don’t have