The Trouble with Tomboys (Tommy Creek #1)(7)



He didn’t recognize her at first with her back to him. In cowboy boots, lean form-fitting jeans, and a pale yellow short-sleeved blouse, she could’ve been anyone. A dark mass of brown hair hung most of the way down her back, held together in a high, sloppy ponytail. She had a nice, feminine figure full of healthy curves in all the right places. Grady narrowed his eyes, wondering who the hell she was and why the hell she was standing in front of his door, staring at it as if she’d just knocked and was waiting for an answer.

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Obviously growing impatient with her wait, she cocked her hip to the side and rested her hand on the generous curve, letting out a loud sigh. Finally, recognition set in. Putting that attitude in her stance, she told him exactly who she was.

The Gilmore woman. B.J.

Grady winced and glanced around, hoping he

could spot some kind of deliverance to save him from having to gag through another encounter with her today. They weren’t scheduled to see each other again until eight the next morning when they were to meet at the airplane to return home, and he wanted it to stay that way.

Not that he minded B.J. Gilmore. He’d never

much cared for her family as a whole, but he’d never had any problem with her alone. Maybe that was because Amy used to babysit her, and he couldn’t despise anyone who’d been partially raised by the love of his life. Though, admittedly, her younger brother, Rudy, had been one of Amy’s wards too, and Grady didn’t have much use for that lazy drunk. The two elder Gilmore boys were equally worthless, one a total dumbass and the other so mean and wild he was scarily unstable.

The one thing Grady remembered about the only female sister was her mouth and how much she liked to use it. She could talk a person into the ground. Since talking was the last thing he cared to do, avoiding her seemed like the best plan. But slipping past her without being spotted and escaping into the blessed silence of his room would to be the real trick.

Suddenly wishing he hadn’t booked their two

rooms adjacent to each other, he decided to stay put and pray she wasn’t hanging around his next pass.

But the stupid elevator let out a blaring ding before the doors began to close. B.J. lifted her head and turned his way. Caught, Grady gritted his teeth and 20



The Trouble with Tomboys



stepped between the closing doors and into the hall.

He lowered his face, thinking she might not

recognize him if he kept walking by.

“There you are,” she called.

Damn.

He glanced up and fell to a pause. She’d moved closer to him, was only about five feet away. A pair of big brown eyes hit him full in the chest. She blinked as if startled to see him dressed in his business gear. Her gaze ran down his suit, missing nothing as it slid over his jacket and slacks. The blatant female appreciation in her stare made his throat constrict. He itched to tug at his tie and breathe again, but refused to show her any sign of weakness.

She licked her lips before meeting his eyes. A strange sensation rushed up the back of his spine and neck as he watched the dart of her tongue. The feeling tickled the base of his skull, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Could’ve been his own awareness of her, he guessed, but it’d been so long since he’d felt anything—toward anyone—he dismissed the idea as soon as it came.

Grateful she’d moved away from his door, he

nodded his hello and pulled a key card from his pocket as he stepped around her and approached his room. Hopefully, she’d realize he wanted to be left alone.

No such luck.

She turned as he passed her, falling into step with him. “I was fixing to head downstairs and find myself some vittles. You hungry?”

“I’ve already eaten.” He unlocked his room to emphasize how much he wanted to be alone.

She set her hands on her hips. “Well, you look like you could do with an extra meal here and there.

Why don’t you come along? Keep me company.”

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

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Sighing, B.J. tugged his briefcase out of his hand and tossed it into the opened door of his room.

He frowned but didn’t react. If his head didn’t hurt so bad, if he hadn’t been thrown off track by the incident at the end of the meeting with Weatherly, if he could only see Amy smile again when he closed his eyes, he probably could’ve come up with a suitable comment to scare her off. Something scathing and dry. But his head went blank, so all he could do was gape at her for her daring.

To further confound him, she hooked her arm

through his and started walking them toward the elevators. He could’ve been rude and pulled away.

But for some reason, he followed.

“Don’t matter none if you’re not hungry,” she said. “You just sit there. I’ll eat enough for the both of us. I hate going to those fancy, shmancy hotel restaurants by myself.” She grinned at him. “I won’t even make you talk if you don’t want. Hell, I’ve been known to carry on a whole conversation by myself.

So you don’t have to worry about a thing. Just having a presence like you around will do me well enough.”

“It’s been a long day,” he said as she stopped to press the elevator button. A last attempt for escape.

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