“Fine,” she said and sighed. “Don’t take out the money.”
He eyed her with suspicion and thought, Too easy. This has to be a trick. Would he soon find surprise wads of cash stuffed in his dresser drawers?
Bingo. She was just sneaky enough to try it.
He was sneakier.
“Let’s backtrack a bit,” he said. “How can you work for me from sunup to sundown? What about your hours at Rhinestone Cowgirl?” When he’d spoken to Edna the day of Brook Lynn’s injury, her daughter had just returned to town, and the woman had made it sound as though she would be too busy to man the counter herself, that she would need Brook Lynn more than ever.
Brook Lynn waved a hand through the air, dismissing his question as unimportant, even as her eyes filled with shadows. His skeptical nature shouted a high-pitched alert. She’d been fired, hadn’t she?
Part of him was angered on her behalf, demanding he tear the jewelry store apart brick by brick and present the remains to her as a gift. The other part of him just wanted to weep with relief that she would no longer be working herself to the bone.
“If we’re going to do this...if we’re going to make this—” What? It wasn’t a relationship. “This thing between us work, there will have to be a few changes. Or rather, rules.”
“Agreed,” she said with a nod. “And the first is definitely—”
“Uh-uh. I make the rules, honey, not you. The first is definitely no kissing. The second is no thinking about kissing. The third is no flashing me. No matter how badly you want to do it.”
“Hey,” she snapped. “You practically begged me to do it.”
“Be that as it may.” Another glance at her magnificent breasts would finally crumble what remained of his resistance. They’d been so plump and round, her nipples as ripe as the strawberries the town was famous for, tightening under his gaze. And damn it, he was sinking again...his hands like heat-seeking missiles. “I’m going to expect you here at eight every morning, and you’ll stay until eight every night.” It was the only way to ensure his little workhorse wouldn’t go out and get yet another job. “And because I’m increasing your hours, I’m increasing your pay.”
“But—”
“Nonnegotiable,” he said. “You will be on call every weekend. With pay.” Again to keep her from getting another job. “I anticipate many casserole and sandwich emergencies in my future.”
“But—”
“Agree or not. Those are my terms. The rest is up to you.”
“Agree,” she gritted out.
“Then it’s settled.” At last he climbed out of the pool, deciding it was better she see his scars than get the peep show of a lifetime as he unintentionally stroked himself to completion while drowning.
Her gaze followed a trickle of water down his chest, and she gulped. “Anything else?”
His step faltered. Was that arousal he heard, turning her voice to smoke?
He swallowed a groan, deciding to drape the towel around his waist rather than his shoulders, hiding his growing erection instead of the damaged tissue left over from multiple fights.
“Yes, there’s something else,” he said. “Your chores. You’re in charge of cleaning the house, grocery shopping, laundry, meals. All meals. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, and every snack in between. And just so you know, we like dessert with each of our meals and even our snacks. You’ll also be in charge of writing a positive affirmation every morning.”
She blinked up at him. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I was doing most of that stuff already. I’ve been your non-wife wife for days.”
He couldn’t stop the tide of warmth spilling through him, and it made his tone snappier than he’d intended. “You are not my wife, non or otherwise. Understand?”
She held up her hands, all innocence. “Whatever you say, Mr. Hollister, sir.”