A Word with the Bachelor by Teresa Southwick Page A

around. How else did he explain getting him to go to town? And she spoke her mind whether he liked what she had to say or not.
    Mostly he didn’t dis like it.
    â€œYou’re right about that, Brew. She’s perky.”
    â€œA firecracker, that one.”
    Jack wondered if those washed-out blue eyes studying him so closely could see inside, what he was thinking. He sure hoped not.
    â€œSo that dinner she made the other night was pretty special,” the old guy said.
    â€œYou mean the chicken, and mac and cheese?”
    â€œThat’s the one. She brought some leftovers down to me for lunch the next day.”
    Because sweet and thoughtful was how she rolled.
    â€œYeah,” he admitted. “It was good.”
    Brew nodded sagely. “Careful with that one, Jack. You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach.”
    â€œI do. And no worries. Erin already told me I don’t have a heart.”
    For some reason Brewster thought that was hilarious and laughed until Jack was afraid he would choke. He didn’t think it was funny at all. And he had a sneaking suspicion that shrewd Brewster Smith was sending his own message. Jack figured his take on her was need-to-know and no one needed to know that she’d gotten his juices flowing, none of the ones that had anything to do with the creative process.
    Jack had been between a rock and a hard place before, but this was different. Putting a move on her was pretty damn tempting, but he’d told her the very first time he laid eyes on her that they wouldn’t be sleeping together. Besides not looking like a hypocritical ass, it would be dishonorable to compromise an employee. He was a lot of things—whiny toad and son of a bitch immediately came to mind—but a jerk who would put her in that kind of position wasn’t one of them.
    The burning question, and he did mean burning, was how the hell was he going to keep from being that jerk?

Chapter Seven
    E rin was fed up with Jack’s silent treatment.
    Oh, there had been grunts and grumbles, a shrug here and there, but none of that counted as actual communication. It had been going on for a couple of days now, since his snit following their visit to town. Afterward he’d practically barricaded himself in his office.
    They had meals together but very little conversation. The daily status meetings he’d agreed to had been aborted but that was about to change. Because she was useless this way and she was going to make him talk to her or die trying.
    She grabbed her file folders with the bogus research acquired from the ridiculous subject matter he’d assigned to her. One of the topics caught her eye and was particularly ironic considering the way he’d clammed up.
    â€œErotic talk, my ass,” she mumbled.
    It was getting close to dinnertime and no way was she putting up with his stonewalling for even one more meal. She was going to do her job. If he didn’t like it, he could fire her and explain to his editor why the book wasn’t turned in. Erin walked out the front door onto the porch, then turned right and stomped up the stairs to his office. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door. He had never given her permission to enter so, as usual, she opened the door and stepped inside.
    Jack was at his desk typing on the computer as if he hadn’t heard her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him from this angle, working. He had a very sexy profile and that was not a comforting thought as she prepared to jump into this confrontation with both feet. But she had to take a stand. She refused to be ignored.
    â€œHi, Jack.”
    His fingers stilled over the keys and he looked at her. “Do you want something?”
    So much, she thought. “We haven’t had a status meeting for a couple of days. I wanted to see how the book is progressing.”
    â€œYou mean the one that’s going to be better than