Her Professor Mate Page 13
She caught a glimpse of him grinding a key for Patty Loveless, one of the local real estate agents. That reminded her that she had better stop by and talk to Charley about the house. In her periphery she could sense them turning toward her as soon as she shifted her gaze.
Ainsley wasn’t about to risk getting pulled into a conversation. She looked both ways and crossed Yale. There was nothing over there except the empty construction site.
No one to bother her.
The construction vehicles seemed out of place, especially for a town that feared change as much as Tarker’s Hollow. The former ball field was going to be an Inn and restaurant soon. The town had approved it fifteen years ago, but they were only just now breaking ground because there had been such a fuss.
As Ainsley crossed Yale, she studied the temporary fencing, trying to picture the size of the building and the parking area that would be there one day. Many of the trophies that still lined the shelves of her room featured miniature golden softball players. Ainsley had thrown her share of strikeouts on the field that had already been erased by the heavy treads of the earth movers.
Just as she arrived on the sidewalk on the college side of Yale, a figure appeared behind the fence in the construction area. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe him. But Ainsley was never the kind of girl who fantasized about Neanderthal types, so she tore her eyes away from his tantalizing shape and headed toward the overpass. She would just walk back over Yale to the café and real estate office.
“Hey!”
She angled away from the guy who yelled at her. Ainsley expected that kind of behavior on the streets of Manhattan, but here? Did construction workers actually think girls liked that?
She turned up her nose and sped up her walk.
“Ainsley!” he called.
She spun on her heel and squinted at him. Did she know this person? She didn’t think so. She would have remembered a body like that.
“Ainsley Connor, I didn’t know you were in town.”
Well, she wasn’t going to get out of this. She swallowed a sigh and walked toward him. God, he was good-looking. A white T-shirt stretched over his broad chest. His arms rippled with muscles. Faded jeans hung low on his hips.
Why were these blue-collar types always so hot? It wasn’t fair.
“Do I know you?”
“It’s Erik. Erik Jensen.” His eyes crinkled in a smile. He had the longest eyelashes – that was the only part of him she recognized.
“Erik?” Ainsley did not remember that incredible body.
“Yeah, I almost didn’t recognize you either, Ainsley. We grew up, didn’t we?”
Yes. Erik had grown into an underwear model. Ainsley had just grown curvier than she wanted to. But she couldn’t help smiling.
“We did,” she said.
“I was really sad to hear about your parents.” He glanced down and kicked at some dirt with the toe of his work boot. “Sorry. I was out of state for the funeral, or else I…”
“It’s okay,” she said, letting him off the hook. “I’m dealing with it.”
“So you live in New York, right?”
“Yes, I’m in real estate. It’s going well.” She left it at that. He was still stuck in Tarker’s Hollow, and digging holes for a living. How awkward. It would be better to not make a big deal of her success. “How are things with you?”
“They’re great, thanks for asking. I just found out I’m on the short list for the highway.”
What could that possibly mean? Was he on clean-up duty as some sort of community service?
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Sorry, Ainsley. I guess our small-town news doesn’t make it into the New York Times.” He flashed a playful smile that made her forget to breathe for a minute. “I own this excavation company. We’re working on the Inn project now. And it sounds like we’re on the short list to do excavation for the new highway coming in. It’s a huge opportunity.”
The highway, was that really going to happen? She knew the residents had been fighting it for years, but the highway would finally put the town on the map. Although given the special kind of diversity found in Tarker’s Hollow, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.
Ainsley’s cheeks flushed at her assumption that Erik was a bog standard construction type. His ambitions had clearly brought him well beyond the role of ditch digger.
It dawned on her that Erik was a wolf, too. She remembered what Mr. MacGregor had told her. Her cheeks flushed even more. She must look like a fool.
“Wow, Erik, that’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.”
He smiled and looked down modestly, showing off those eyelashes again.
For a moment she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be his mate. She let her eyes run down the length of his body, wide shoulders forming a triangle with his narrow waist. His jeans hung just low enough that she couldn’t quite see, but could well imagine the silken trail leading down to what just had to be a beautiful cock. Even the jeans couldn’t disguise the size of the bulge between his legs.
Plus, he was a wolf. No need to worry about losing control and hurting him. Erik looked like the type that could take care of himself.
He looked up and she met his eyes.
In a heartbeat, the edges of her vision blurred and nothing mattered but Erik. His eyes were luminous; his sweat was an intoxicating musk. His too long hair lifted in an imaginary breeze as his heartbeat strained to match hers. Tiny, golden motes danced along his muscular body.
It was happening again. Just like with MacGregor. Only this wasn’t a middle aged History teacher standing on the other side of the fence.
Ainsley licked her lips and moved toward him. Her palms clinked against the chain link fence, just as he crashed into it, clenching the metal in his powerful hands and twisting until several of the links gave way with a pop. God, but he was strong. She had a vision of him tearing down the entire section of fence just to get to her.
A tiny moan escaped her lips and he growled softly in return, his dark eyes flashing a spectacular amber. His wolf must be close to the surface. She could feel her own, begging to be unleashed. Somehow, she tore her eyes from his and the spell was broken.
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