Getting Hotter
Page 57“You’re still a modern, independent woman,” she assured herself.
But sometimes even modern, independent women were forced to admit defeat and call a man for help.
Seth was chuckling to himself during the entire drive into San Diego. He knew Miranda was probably stewing up a storm over the fact that she’d been forced to call him. He’d heard the irritation in her voice when she’d tersely explained the situation and asked him for help. Hell, he was surprised the words “help me” actually existed in that stubborn woman’s vocabulary.
He couldn’t wait to see her, though. He’d been busy this week, spending a couple of days in Nevada training with the team, and then last night he’d gone to Carson’s rather than the club. He’d promised Miranda that he wouldn’t hover over her at work anymore. Besides, he knew that if he’d gone there last night, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from nailing her in that employee break room.
Hopefully they could find some alone time later tonight. Maybe she’d sneak him into her place after the rugrats went to bed. It irked that he had to organize his sex life around two six-year-olds, but it was a price he was willing to pay to have Miranda in his bed.
He turned onto the street she’d indicated, immediately spotting her blue Ford on the side of the road. He pulled up behind it and hopped out of the Jeep, finding Miranda and the twins sitting on the curb.
“Somebody call roadside assistance?” he said mockingly.
Miranda scowled at him. “Wipe that grin of your face, Masterson. I’m not in the mood.”
“Mom has crazy eyes,” Sophie spoke up.
He laughed despite himself.
Both kids’ eyes widened in surprise.
“I hate this,” she said dully. “If I could just manage to get those lugs off, I could totally change that tire.”
“Of course you could.” He wasn’t being sarcastic. He had absolute faith that Miranda Breslin could accomplish anything she set her sights on.
Seth rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down and appraised the tire. “No fixing that, I’m afraid. You’ll need to spring for a new one.”
“I know,” she said glumly.
“Tire iron?”
She handed it to him. He squatted down and tackled the first wheel lug. The amount of resistance he encountered made him grunt, but he managed to loosen the lug.
“Jesus, these are tight,” he admitted as he went to work on the next one.
Miranda’s voice rang with triumph. “Ha! I knew it wasn’t just me. They’re insanely tight, right?”
“Or maybe you’re insanely weak,” he teased.
“My mom’s not weak!” Jason fiercely protested.
“Oh.”
He finished up and reached for the jack, but Miranda gave him that stubborn head shake he’d grown accustomed to. “I want to do it,” she announced. “That way I’ll be prepared if I ever get another flat. Talk me through it?”
When she looked at him with those earnest hazel eyes, he couldn’t deny her a damn thing.
He spent the next fifteen minutes talking her through the rest of the process, enjoying the way she bit her lip in concentration and the little fist pumps she did every time she successfully completed a task. When the spare tire successfully made it on the car, Seth and the twins broke out in applause.
Miranda took a bow before wagging a finger at her children. “I told you I could do it. Now get in the car and buckle up. We still have a pizza place to go to.”
“Is Sef gonna come?” Jason’s jubilant expression revealed precisely how he felt about that possibility
“He’s not gonna come,” Sophie told her brother. “You know he won’t.”
Maybe it was the alpha male in him, but Seth didn’t take kindly to challenges, and that little girl’s eyes? Chock full of challenge.
“I could go for some pizza,” he said smugly. “That is, if it’s all right with your mom.”
Miranda looked as shocked as her children. “Uh, sure, you’re welcome to join us.”
She helped her kids into the backseat, then followed him to the trunk. With the trunk door up, neither child could see them through the back windshield, and Seth took full advantage of that.
His mouth was on Miranda’s before she could blink. Tongue sliding into her mouth, hands cupping her firm ass, pelvis rocking into hers. Oh sweet Jesus. He rubbed his aching erection in the cradle of her thighs, desperate to be inside her.
She whimpered. Clutched the front of his shirt with both hands as she hungrily kissed him back. His head was spinning by the time their mouths broke free.
There was a smudge of motor oil on her cheek, which made him smile. “You’ve got oil on your face,” he said gruffly.
Moistening the pad of his thumb with his tongue, he wiped the dark spot away, then ran his fingers over the tiny freckles that looked so out of place against the backdrop of her olive-tinted skin.
“Thanks,” she murmured when his hand dropped from her face.
“You’re welcome.” His mouth tingled with the urge to kiss her again. So he did. Pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat, enjoying the way she shivered. “I missed you, babe.”