Running Wild by Susan Andersen Page A

the idea of him taking an arduous hike in a country where neither of us speaks the language particularly well and the medical care isn’t always all it should be. His doc was a pussycat, though, compared to Bren’s wife, Jody. Bren fought the good fight but Jody went through a lot, too, when he was so sick, so he finally had to throw in the towel. By then it was too late to find anyone else to go.” He shrugged. “I didn’t particularly mind. I was looking forward to some time to myself.”
    Which, of course, her situation had totally screwed up. Still, she asked, “Why? Do you have a marriage or long-time relationship that’s going south on you?”
    His laugh was short and unamused. “No.”
    She waited for him to elaborate and when he didn’t, she sighed. “You’re not a real big communicator, are ya?”
    He had the nerve to look insulted. “I’m an excellent communicator when there’s something worth communicating about. This touchy-feely shit isn’t.”
    “C’mon!” Reaching across the seat, she poked a finger in his side and merely gave him a little smile when he snapped tough-skinned fingers around her wrist and delivered her hand back to the steering wheel. “Are you pining for an unrequited love?”
    “Jesus.” He shook his head in disgust.
    “I’ll take that as a no. So, you’re not married, not involved and not carrying a torch. What had you so hot for some alone time, then?”
    “You aren’t gonna let this go, are you?”
    She shot him a cheerful smile and discovered to her surprise that something about the conversation actually made her feel that way. “Nope.”
    “Fine. It’s my family.” He must have seen her knee-jerk protest forming, because he added flatly, “I know, I know, you think a big family is more romantic than chocolates and roses on Valentine’s Day. But as someone who actually lives in one, I’m here to tell you there are times when the lack of privacy is enough to drive a guy to drink. There’s just no getting away from everyone. I work with my three brothers in the family construction business all day long—although, given we’re all men, that’s not so bad.”
    “Because you can scratch and spit and beat your hairy chests in male solidarity?”
    His mouth quirked up. “Or at least speak the same language. My aunts and grandmas and even one of my sisters-in-law and a few girl cousins who damn well oughta know better, on the other hand, want to see me settled. Apparently something happens to the Kavanagh females once they get married. They morph from fun chicks into nags who believe the entire world needs to march by twos, man-woman, man-woman.”
    “No man-man, woman-woman allowed?”
    He laughed. “I honest to God think they’d be okay with that. What they can’t stand is that I never bring anyone to the family events.”
    “Why not? Don’t you date?”
    “I date plenty. No—more than plenty. I date a lot.”
    “Omigawd,” she breathed, suddenly flashing back to the memory of that I’d-do-ya-baby look he’d given her in the cantina yesterday. Her brain hit a patch of black ice and spun a fast three-sixty through a decade’s worth of mental images from the myriad nightspots she’d frequented over the years. Slightly dizzied by the impressions whirling through her head faster than the sound of light, she eased her foot off the gas pedal, steered the car to a stop on the side of the road and shut it down. “Oh. My. God.”
    She turned to stare at Finn, a strangled laugh threatening to blow her windpipe apart. “You’re one of
those
guys.”
    “What the hell are you talking about? Why’d you stop? What guys?”
    “The ones you see cutting a different woman out of the herd every night of the week in every club in every city in the world.”
Good God, Mags, hyperbole much?
But she shook her head because she knew—she just
knew
—she was right about this. “Men who are charming and fun, but most of all dedicated to getting laid and staying