Tempting Donovan Ford by Jennifer McKenzie

outside.
    “If I misinterpreted that, I apologize.”
    He hadn’t. Not even a little. She looked up and knew it was a mistake even before she saw the flare of heat in his eyes. Her brain stuttered, causing her mouth to open and shut. So attractive. “I need to start cooking,” she told him.
    But he merely smiled and brushed away a lock of hair that had slipped out of her bun and across her eye. She shivered and his smile widened.
    Yeah, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

CHAPTER FIVE
    D ONOVAN WAS STILL thinking about Julia when he parked in front of his parents’ house later that night. The feel of her skin under his hands, the responsive tilt of her body, the knowledge of how close he’d been to getting down on his knees and worshipping at the altar of her body. He thought about when he’d pulled back to look at her and she’d been standing there, staring back at him with those eyes that made him picture wicked, naked fantasies. When her body had wavered toward his and he’d read her invitation as clearly as if she’d delivered it to him on a platter.
    And then his family had barged in and wrecked the moment. As if they’d planned to cock-block him. Which might have been funny, if it hadn’t actually happened.
    He walked up the steps to the house he’d grown up in and pushed open the door. Hell. He wanted to be walking into Julia’s house, picking up where they’d left off and learning how her body felt underneath his. Or on top of his. Really, he was willing to try both ways. He found his mother in the kitchen tossing a salad. “Hello.”
    “Hello, dear.” Evelyn lifted her cheek for a kiss. “Are you staying for dinner?”
    “Of course.” He stole a carrot from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. He tried to have dinner with them at least once a week. “I even brought wine.” He stowed it in the fridge. “Do you need anything?”
    “I’ve got it under control.” She waved him away. “Go visit your father before he comes in here and starts whining about having to eat salad with his meal instead of potatoes.”
    Donovan grinned. “Where is the old man?”
    “In the den.” Evelyn turned to check on something in the stove. “And don’t give him a beer, even if he begs. Doctor’s orders.” Though kind and caring in every way, Evelyn Ford could be ruthless when it came to those she loved. And she loved her family fiercely.
    Donovan decided against pouring one for himself—that would just be cruel—and went to find his father. He discovered him just where his mother had said, lounging in his den, trying to hide a beer behind his seat. He straightened when he saw it wasn’t his wife.
    “Dad.” Donovan plucked the bottle out of his father’s hand. “You know Mom is going to think I gave this to you.”
    “A good son would give it back.”
    Donovan took a sip and then handed it over. “I saw and know nothing.”
    Gus grinned. “It’s only one. But your mother. You know she worries.” They all did. But his dad looked better every time Donovan saw him. Perhaps not as robust and energetic as he’d been pre-heart attack, but the gray pallor to his skin was gone and the gleam of ideas was back in his eyes. “I like your new chef.”
    “What? No hello, how are you, good to see you?”
    “I did see you only a few hours ago.”
    Donovan had to admit that his father had a point.
    Gus lounged back on his favorite padded leather chair with a tall back that he refused to replace. Just getting it re-covered when the leather had been torn—a youthful incident involving Donovan, Owen and a Scout knife that they never saw again—had been a battle. “She’s a hell of a cook.” He patted his stomach in appreciation of the food Julia had served this afternoon.
    Julia was a hell of a lot of things. Chef, woman, kisser. But Donovan wasn’t about to share that with his father. “She is. That’s why she runs the kitchen.”
    “Pretty, too.”
    Donovan pointedly ignored that comment.