Jeanie London - Real Men - Rugged Rebels - Watch and Learn / Under His Skin / Her Perfect Hero

“All of this doesn’t seem like much in return for fixing my air conditioner,” she said. “So I’d like to offer to replace the mural in the kitchen.”

He smiled. “You’re an artist, too?”

Suddenly she seemed shy. “Not accomplished by any means, but I think I could paint a passable landscape, if you’re willing to let me try.”

“I accept,” he said happily. A delivery truck pulled into the driveway, horn honking.

Gemma tucked a strand of shimmering blond hair behind her ear. “I guess I’d better get to my yard.”

“I’ll let you know when I get the thermostat for your HVAC unit,” he offered as they walked back to the entrance. “Will you be around tomorrow?”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

In yet another provocative outfit? He set his jaw against the images that exploded into his head. “I’ll let you know.”

She nodded, then turned and walked back to her own yard, seeming lost in thought. Chev spent the rest of the day finding excuses to look out the window or go outside to his truck so he could catch glimpses of her working in her yard, wearing her big hat and flowered gloves. It seemed incongruous that the woman was so … normal and yet so … titillating.

He had a feeling she wouldn’t appear at her window that night, but it didn’t stop him from looking. He gave up around midnight, lying on his cot with perspiration beading on his pent-up body as his mind played images of Gemma over and over. The woman confounded him, affected him like no other woman ever had. His body ached for her. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to be tentative around him, that he would take whatever she had to offer for the short time he would be there.

But what if her erotic nighttime shows were all that she had to offer? The woman was still suffering from the breakup of her marriage. Maybe the window performances were her way of safely acting out.

Or maybe her behavior had led to the end of her marriage. Lots of couples had bedroom secrets, but the state attorney general’s career probably would’ve been compromised if anyone knew that his wife was an exhibitionist.

On the other hand, Gemma didn’t seem the type to.

He groaned in frustration. The woman didn’t fit any “type” he’d ever known. Intelligent but unhappy, educated but badly employed, homey but sexy, bold but unsure of herself … complementary and contradictory.

Chev sighed, willing himself to put her out of his mind,to find sleep. He’d just begun to relax when a honking, plaintive noise sounded outside his window, again … and again … and again.

The peacock was back, calling for a mate.

Chev put his pillow over his ears. It was going to be a long night.

“HOW’S THE JOB?” Sue Asked.

Gemma held her cell phone between her ear and shoulder while she tied the belt on the lightweight black raincoat she wore over her costume. She unlocked her car door and swung inside, mulling her response. Her body was strung tight after a day of being on exhibit herself. She was looking forward to getting home and taking a long bubble bath. “Fine, I guess. I’m getting accustomed to the routine.”

Sue gave a little laugh. “I might have to drive down there and check out your show.”

Gemma hesitated, trying to adopt a casual tone. “Sue, do you remember the Sexual Psyche class in college?”

“Sex for Beginners? Sure, I remember. What about it?”

“Did you ever take it?”

“No. I thought I already knew everything—what a joke. But you took it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And what made you think about the class after all these years?”

“I … received something in the mail the other day that … dredged up old memories.”

“What?”

“An assignment that we had, to write down our fantasies. Dr. Alexander said she’d mail them to us ten years later.”

“Wow, that’s kind of cool … isn’t it?”

“I guess, but a bit weird. I wrote them before I met Jason.”

“Yeah, Gemma, you were an actual person before you met Jason. I was there, remember?”

Gemma blinked at her friend’s sarcasm. “What’s with the attitude? You introduced us.”

A hesitant hum sounded over the line, then Sue said, “I thought you’d go out, have some fun. Honestly, I never dreamed the two of you would get married.”

Gemma’s mouth opened and closed. “So … you didn’t … you don’t think that we were a good match?”

“That wasn’t for me to decide. But I admit I was surprised when you and Jason got serious.”

“You didn’t think I was good enough for him?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The two of you just seemed so … different. You were so earthy with your art, and he was already so judicial.”

And judgmental , Gemma added silently. Jason had a way of making people feel they needed to be on their best behavior around him. He had been a lifesaver at the time, a reason to rein in her deviant sexual conduct and keep herself in check. She had needed him, and had worked so hard to be what he’d needed in return. “Well, since it didn’t last,” she said lightly, “I guess you get the prize.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Gemma.” Sue sighed. “I’m just really happy for you that you’re moving on.”

Gemma leaned her head back on the headrest. “I don’t feel like I’m moving on.”

“You have a new job.”

“It’s temporary.”

“And how about that neighbor of yours?”

“He’s temporary, too. He’s flipping the house by the end of the month.”

“That old Spanish two-story? Isn’t it kind of a wreck?”

Gemma lifted her head. “Yeah, but it’s going to be spectacular. Chev is really paying attention to detail.”

“Sounds like you are, too.”

Gemma realized too late that her voice was elevated, her words rushed and excited. She backpedaled, adopting a casual tone. “He asked for my help on a couple of historical aspects of the house.”

“Oh? Well, you know your stuff, so this Chev guy is showing good sense by asking your advice.”

“I’m sure he wants to set as high an asking price as possible when it goes up for auction.”

“Uh-huh. What kinds of things are you helping him with?”

“Architectural details. And I’m replacing a mural for him.”

“You’re painting again? That’s wonderful! What’s he paying you?”

Gemma swallowed. “Actually, it’s a trade. He’s going to fix my air conditioner.”

“Is he now? Gotta love a man who’s good with his hands.”

“Sue, I’m not sleeping with the guy.”

“Are you at least thinking about it?”

Gemma started her car engine. “Oh, look at that—my phone battery is dying, and I need to get home.”

“Liar. At least tell me if he lives in Tampa.”

“No. Like I said, he’s temporary.”

“No strings can be a good thing.”

“Goodbye, Sue.”

Sue sighed. “Goodbye.”

Gemma disconnected the call and shook her head. Sue meant well by encouraging her to have a meaningless relationship to help move past Jason’s rejection. But her friend would be shocked if she knew what had already transpired between her and her neighbor.

Just like she would’ve been shocked if Gemma’s exhibitionism in college had been exposed. Shocked and ashamed.

On the drive home, Gemma reflected on Sue’s comment that she and Jason hadn’t been suited for each other. Had other people thought the same thing? Had people whispered that their marriage wouldn’t last even as they were standing before the altar taking their vows? Had her desperation to marry Jason been so apparent?

Had Jason sensed it, too? Even though she’d never uttered a word of her subversive urges to exhibit herself, had being her safety chute worn on him?