Free Asking For Trouble by Becky McGraw Page B

isn't going to work...we're going to
head out."
     
    Chase dropped his arms and took a step
forward with his hand up, then said, "Dave, just chill out for a
second, you just got here last night, and she hasn't had a chance
to talk to her mom and dad...she'll do that right now," he looked
over at Jazzie for confirmation. "Right, sweetheart?"
     
    Beau held back the curse that sprang to his
lips, when he heard Chase Rhodes call Jazzie a pet name, then
walked over to the sofa with Mrs. Ramos, and gently laid her down.
"Where's the bathroom? I'll get her a cool rag for her head," he
said looking up at Jazzie.
    "I'll get it," Jazzie said then sprinted off
to the back of the house.
     
    A minute later, she came back and handed him
a wet washcloth, which he folded and laid on her mother's forehead.
Beau picked up her wrist and felt for her pulse. Her heart rate was
really elevated, so he told her softly, "Take deep breaths and let
them out slowly, Mrs. Ramos."
     
    Jazzie turned to Dave Logan and said
sarcastically, "Dave, I'm sorry I haven't filled my mom in yet, I
just got out of bed to answer the door, then your guys attacked
Beau in the front yard...forgive me for being so lax."
     
    He huffed out a breath and ran a hand
through his short hair, then said, "Okay, let's just get this out
in the open, so I can tell you what I found out about your
brother."
     
    That got Jazzie's attention, she gasped and
stood up then demanded, "Now, who's not telling who what?"
     
    Chase stepped between them, looked at one
then the other and suggested, "Your mom cooked breakfast, let's
just go eat, and we can talk about everything while we do."
     
    "Good idea," Jazzie said then darted off
toward the kitchen, her ass swinging for all to see in those damned
short terry cloth shorts. Beau held back a growl as he saw that his
weren't the only eyes watching the show.
     
    "Mrs. Ramos, let me help you up," Beau
offered and stood up beside the couch and extended his hand to her.
Her eyes opened, and although he didn't see acceptance there, the
animosity he'd seen earlier had vanished. She sat up and took his
offered hand and he helped her to stand, then took her arm and
walked with her toward the table. "I'll go help Jazzie get
breakfast served, and you just sit here and rest. Would you like
some juice or water?"
     
    "Water would be good, gracias," she said
grudgingly.
     
    Beau saw Chase and the other three men
gathered near the stairway talking quietly, and went to the kitchen
to find Jazzie. She was standing at the stove dishing eggs onto a
platter. He walked over there and started buttering the biscuits
that were on a cookie sheet next to the stove.
     
    "Leave that on the counter and I'll take it
to the table..." Beau told her and his eyes wandered over her
skimpy shorts and the massive amount of her smooth tanned skin they
revealed. He swallowed down the lust that slammed into him, then
suggested, "Why don't you go upstairs and get dressed? And bring
your mom a glass of water on your way..."
     
    Jazzie looked up and studied him for a
second and gave him a smile, then put the platter of eggs on the
counter, and tiptoed to put a kiss on his cheek. Warmth radiated
from her body and wrapped around him. Tingles traced down his skin
from where her lips touched him, and his pulse ramped up. When she
leaned up to open the cabinet in front of him, and her body brushed
against him, Beau stifled a groan.
     
    Her shorts rose up and exposed the lower
curve of her gorgeous ass, and he clutched the butter knife in his
hand tighter and clenched his jaw. His palms practically itched to
feel her soft, smooth skin beneath them. Inhaling a shuddering
breath, trying to get control of himself, Beau dragged his eyes
away from her and put them where they belonged, back on buttering
the biscuits. He was in sexual hell, and every part of his body was
on fire.
     
    She finally pulled down a glass and moved
away from him, but had to lean up on the counter to reach