Polly had to admit, it had been a somewhat productive day, and then again, a totally unproductive one.
The furnace repairman had come and gone, and the house was slowly warming up as it ran overtime, not longer necessitating Polly to wear multiple layers of clothes. True, his repair rates were on par with a nice lunch at The Ivy, but she decided you couldn’t put a price on not freezing your ass off every minute and had happily cut a check and sent him on his way.
In addition, she had called Rob Fitzhugh, and they had spoken at length about his divorce options, and Polly even agreed to represent him in court, providing she was in the area during the trial. If not, she would vet someone to take her place, and Mr. Fitzhugh had been so humble and grateful, Polly felt guilty for agreeing to accept a small honorarium as a retainer and by way of thanks.
On the novel writing front, though, that productivity had gone out the window. Instead, Polly kept gazing out the window, telling herself she wasn’t looking for Jack and Chase to return from the deer stand they were holed up in today with a couple of tourists.
Nope, wasn’t looking for them at all.
Instead, she had picked up and put down her laptop several times, hoping to start germinating the plot of her attorney-does-good story, but instead continuing to veer back into chintzy, romancy, erotica type territory.
She simply couldn’t imagine why her brain was going there instead of to the law…
Chase and Jack would be back later. Maybe Jack had some remedial wooddog training to tackle or something. They would totally be here in a little while.
Right?
Polly’s self doubts started to creep in again, so she resolutely turned her eyes back down to the open laptop in front of her, where a fresh Word doc was open, the cursor blinking, ready for her flood of words.
So far, she’d written:
He pulled her into his powerful arms, crushing his lips to hers. She whimpered softly at the shock of flesh against flesh, feeling his aching desire pressing against her belly, forcing her to admit her soaking
If she kept writing like this, she’d end up with one of those novels with Fabio painted on the cover looking like a pirate or a buccaneer or something in a shirt open to the navel with a woman with a heaving bosom flopped in his arms like a dead carp.
You’d think, Polly mused to herself, after a number of rather inspiring daydreams, I’d be ready to really write a steamy scene…
Muttering to herself, she deleted the paragraph and started again.
Funny how the hero she was picturing for her book suddenly had tousled blondish hair, a butt built for Levi’s…
And hazel eyes.
Polly smiled to herself, her fingers suddenly flying over the keys, clattering out the beginnings of a new novel, her previous writer’s block all but forgotten.
**
Chase couldn’t quite bring himself to open the cabin’s door.
He could see Polly through the window, half lit by the hazy glow of the fire in the hearth and also by the artificial glow of her laptop.
On which she was typing furiously, with a half smile on her lips and the sweetest wrinkle in her forehead, obviously worn into place from hours of concentration. She was softly lit by the screen, and once again, Chase could barely believe that this stunning creature was the same gangly, nerdy girl from their childhood.
My, how the years had been kind.
Jack bumped against his leg, obviously eager to get back inside to the warmth of the cabin and to his new mistress.
“Traitor,” Chase said, cuffing Jack playfully on the ear. “Let’s go, tiger.”
Chase opened the door quietly, trying not to let the grocery bags in his hand crinkle too loudly. Jack bounded ahead of him, letting out a delighted woof as he charged headlong into Polly’s lap.
Polly shrieked like a little girl and glanced up, visibly relaxing after a few seconds when she processed that it was Jack and Chase.
She really had been engrossed in writing, Chase thought with a wry grin. “Scare ya?”
Polly put a hand to her chest where her heart was fluttering like a rabid bat, and then let out a deep breath. “Oh thank god,” she breathed, standing up awkwardly on her good leg. “I need help.”
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Chase asked, immediately on alert. Stupid, stupid, he berated himself suddenly… he hadn’t even thought about leaving Polly alone all day with her hurt ankle. What would have happened if she’d fallen, or if it had gotten worse… he knew he should have cancelled the hunting today and stayed with her…
“No, I’m stuck,” Polly huffed, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the wingback chair in the family room, the grocery sacks forgotten on the floor. “Sit.”
Chase sat, grinning at her bossy tone. “Woof.”
Polly grinned for a nanosecond, and then grew serious again. “I’m having serious problems with mechanics, and I seem to be on to something with my novel, but I need to prove that this would work.”
“Is something wrong with your laptop?” Chase asked, his forehead wrinkling in concern.
Without a word, Polly sat in his lap, her legs splayed on either side of his, her breasts only inches away from lips, her groin only inches away from…
His eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned out loud when she began to writhe in his lap, bringing every nerve ending in his body to attention.
“Yeah, that would work,” Polly muttered distractedly, still gyrating. “I mean, as long as I describe her leg placement over the sides of the arms, and as long as he thrusts up a bit…”
“Um, what?” Chase’s voice was so strangled, he barely recognized it as his own.
“I wrote myself into a corner, with my characters about to do it in a chair like this, and then I started worrying about the technicalities of it, so I really needed to do some sort of demo…Chase, are you okay?” Polly had just noticed the look of tight control on his face and stopped her movements. “Am I hurting you?”
“You will be if you don’t get up in about three seconds,” Chase said, closing his eyes and battling for control. “I need to… um, get some water.”
Yeah, a cold shower for about an hour, Chase thought, trying to level off his thoughts as Polly continued to sit astride him for another moment.
Polly’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement, but she managed to awkwardly stand without reinjuring her ankle and saw Chase bolt out of the chair, his breathing ragged.
“Are you okay?” Polly asked. “Did I hurt you? Was I too heavy?”
Chase breathed in through his nose and out his mouth a couple of times and then gave her a winsome smile. “You have absolutely no idea what power you have over men, do you?”
Polly looked confused. “Huh?”
“I thought so,” Chase replied easily, finally getting his emotions – and his body – back under control. “Sweet little man in the manger, you could have killed me, jumping my bod like that with no warning.”
Polly bit back a laugh. “I’m sure it’s not your first bod-jumping experience. And I wasn’t jumping you, I was testing mechanics. It was research.”
“Want to go to bed and test some others?” Chase asked with a leer, and Polly laughed again, though more nervously this time.
“Did you bring any squeezy cheese?” Polly asked, gesturing to the grocery sacks and Chase looked confused.
“No. I brought more Pringles and Diet Pepsi, but that’s neither here nor there,” Chase replied. “Why?”
“Squeezy cheese gets me hot. Really hot. Without it, our mechanics would just be empty and sad. Sorry,” Polly said, biting back a grin, not sorry at all as Chase’s expression turned from surprised to horny to hilarious in a matter of seconds.
“God, you are a cruel, cruel woman, Polly Royston.”
“Don’t I know it,” Polly said with an evil grin as she began to unload the groceries.
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