concentrate on her house, her new life; there were many things that she wanted and men were presently at the bottom of the list. And that it had been
Jeb
who'd rocked her socks left her floored.
On one level she'd always been aware that Jeb was an attractive man. OK, very attractive. Very virile. And maybe, before the incident with the marijuana joint, she'd had a few daydreams about him. She made a face. Which put her in league with most of the women in the valley. Maybe that was it, she thought slowly. Maybe because so many females fell all over him, coupled with her chagrin and humiliation over the way he'd treated her involving the marijuana joint, she'd been determined that
she
wasn't going to worship at his feet. Of course, she hadn't been about to forgive him for embarrassing her the way he had and to prove that he hadn't cowed her, that she wasn't the least impressed by him, she'd started sniping at him, letting him know that she didn't think he was so cool and handsome. That he was dirt beneath her feet. All the others could run after him, but not her. Not Roxanne Ballinger.
Her gaze narrowed. Naturally, he hadn't helped matters, she reminded herself. Calling her “Princess” and looking down that bold nose of his at her like he'd just stepped in a pile of cat shit. He'd always been a bit of a pig with her; the marijuana joint incident had been neither the first nor the last time they'd locked horns with each other. It stuck out the most in her mind, but she could remember other times when he'd ream her out for little infractions, while the other kids just got a smile and friendly warning. Yeah. He'd always picked on her, gone out of his way to be annoying and insulting—no wonder she didn't like him. And once she'd become famous and there'd been all those ridiculous stories about her love life … The disapproving look he'd get on that handsome face of his whenever their paths crossed had made her want to smack him! You'd think she was a modern-day Jezebel, seducing men left and right and leaving ruined lives and devastated families in her wake. Who the hell was Jeb Delaney to sit in judgment on her?
By the time Roxanne went to bed that night, she was certain she had her head firmly on her shoulders when it came to Jeb Delaney. Lying in her twin bed she stared at the ceiling reminding herself again what a jerk he was … But thinking he was an arrogant pain in the ass still didn't explain what had happened this morning on that kitchen countertop. She frowned. Had to be PMS, she finally decided. That worked. Sure. Her period was due and she was a bundle of hormones—they'd all ganged up on her and she'd gone sexually nuts. OK. That sounded good. And maybe, maybe, she thought sleepily, because of all that hormone activity her body had put out an odor that had driven Jeb sexually nuts, too. She nodded and half smiled in the darkness. Yeah. That worked. PMS explained it all. And she'd make damn certain that she was never alone again with Jeb Delaney when her period was due!
Having solved the puzzle to her satisfaction, Roxanne slept deeply and dreamlessly. She was up early Saturday morning and discovered that she'd been right about her period. It had arrived—along with a severe case of cramps. Feeling sorry for herself, and wishing that men had to suffer through the same misery every month, she dragged around the cabin packing up the few things she'd brought with her. As she packed and double-checked the cabin to make certain she hadn't forgotten anything, she marveled again at all the damage the vandals had done.
When she'd first seen the place, the floors had been torn up, windows smashed, cupboards ransacked, holes punched into the walls—it had looked like a cyclone had gone through the place. And if Danny Haskell, one of the resident deputies, was to be believed, the trespassers had come back more than once, doing more damage each time. In a way it didn't matter because very little of the original
Jeb
who'd rocked her socks left her floored.
On one level she'd always been aware that Jeb was an attractive man. OK, very attractive. Very virile. And maybe, before the incident with the marijuana joint, she'd had a few daydreams about him. She made a face. Which put her in league with most of the women in the valley. Maybe that was it, she thought slowly. Maybe because so many females fell all over him, coupled with her chagrin and humiliation over the way he'd treated her involving the marijuana joint, she'd been determined that
she
wasn't going to worship at his feet. Of course, she hadn't been about to forgive him for embarrassing her the way he had and to prove that he hadn't cowed her, that she wasn't the least impressed by him, she'd started sniping at him, letting him know that she didn't think he was so cool and handsome. That he was dirt beneath her feet. All the others could run after him, but not her. Not Roxanne Ballinger.
Her gaze narrowed. Naturally, he hadn't helped matters, she reminded herself. Calling her “Princess” and looking down that bold nose of his at her like he'd just stepped in a pile of cat shit. He'd always been a bit of a pig with her; the marijuana joint incident had been neither the first nor the last time they'd locked horns with each other. It stuck out the most in her mind, but she could remember other times when he'd ream her out for little infractions, while the other kids just got a smile and friendly warning. Yeah. He'd always picked on her, gone out of his way to be annoying and insulting—no wonder she didn't like him. And once she'd become famous and there'd been all those ridiculous stories about her love life … The disapproving look he'd get on that handsome face of his whenever their paths crossed had made her want to smack him! You'd think she was a modern-day Jezebel, seducing men left and right and leaving ruined lives and devastated families in her wake. Who the hell was Jeb Delaney to sit in judgment on her?
By the time Roxanne went to bed that night, she was certain she had her head firmly on her shoulders when it came to Jeb Delaney. Lying in her twin bed she stared at the ceiling reminding herself again what a jerk he was … But thinking he was an arrogant pain in the ass still didn't explain what had happened this morning on that kitchen countertop. She frowned. Had to be PMS, she finally decided. That worked. Sure. Her period was due and she was a bundle of hormones—they'd all ganged up on her and she'd gone sexually nuts. OK. That sounded good. And maybe, maybe, she thought sleepily, because of all that hormone activity her body had put out an odor that had driven Jeb sexually nuts, too. She nodded and half smiled in the darkness. Yeah. That worked. PMS explained it all. And she'd make damn certain that she was never alone again with Jeb Delaney when her period was due!
Having solved the puzzle to her satisfaction, Roxanne slept deeply and dreamlessly. She was up early Saturday morning and discovered that she'd been right about her period. It had arrived—along with a severe case of cramps. Feeling sorry for herself, and wishing that men had to suffer through the same misery every month, she dragged around the cabin packing up the few things she'd brought with her. As she packed and double-checked the cabin to make certain she hadn't forgotten anything, she marveled again at all the damage the vandals had done.
When she'd first seen the place, the floors had been torn up, windows smashed, cupboards ransacked, holes punched into the walls—it had looked like a cyclone had gone through the place. And if Danny Haskell, one of the resident deputies, was to be believed, the trespassers had come back more than once, doing more damage each time. In a way it didn't matter because very little of the original
Similar Books
