Read Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) Online

Authors: Lydia Michaels

Tags: #erotic contemporary romance, #erotic romantic comedy, #contemporary western, #contemporary romantic comedy, #erotic western romance, #erotic chicklit

Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) (3 page)

Tracy’s wedding had been her breaking point.
When the DJ announced the bouquet toss and Mallory was the only one
shoved onto the dance floor, she nearly died of embarrassment.
She’d smiled and played the part, made a few sarcastic comments,
and caught the damn flowers.

The guy who caught the garter didn’t look
too excited about having to put it on her leg. The true moment of
mortification came when the stupid elastic lace barely stretched
past her lower thigh. She’d shoved down her dress and walked right
out to the parking lot without saying goodbye.

That night, after tossing her bouquet in the
box with all the other dried bouquets she’d caught, she opened her
laptop and Googled job listings. Her resume was forwarded to over
twenty businesses, all over two hours away from the city.

She couldn’t do it anymore. It was so hard,
constantly watching her friends kiss and smile and have babies. She
wanted to run away. Then she had her doctor appointment and the
last shred of her self-esteem turned to ash.

Her plan was to move away, lose weight, and
come back in a year as the
New and Improved Mallory Fenton.
She took down all her pictures on Facebook and packed up her
apartment the day after she was offered the job at Center County
High. No one understood why she was moving and she didn’t bother to
explain.

All of her life she’d never been able to
borrow anything but shoes from her size two friends. They wouldn’t
get it. They’d watched her diet since she was a little girl and she
couldn’t face them after failing again. But this time would be
different. She wasn’t going to quit. She was getting healthy and
changing her thinking once and for all. No one would do it for her,
so she was doing it for herself. The problem was…she missed her
friends terribly.

 

* * * *

 

That night, she did up her eyes,
straightened her hair, and painted her nails. She was going out.
There was a pub in town, O’Malley’s, that seemed to cater to people
her age. Her black spring dress covered just the right amount of
leg and the empire waist hid a good amount of the bad. Her white
cardigan would be warm, but hopefully the pub was air-conditioned.
She made a habit of hiding her jiggly arms and the cardigan
wouldn’t be coming off.

She waited in the parking lot for some
version of her mental pep talk to sink in.
Get out of the
car.

In the city, she and her friends often
visited jazz clubs and good restaurants. Things were different
here.

Maybe you over-dressed.

As she watched people enter the pub she took
note of the girls. She never really paid much attention to guys, as
they never really saw her, but she always watched the girls.

Everyone who went into the bar wore jeans
and T-shirts. Mallory had never been able to pull off that casual
look. Her T-shirts were always cut too high or hung too wide. If
she dressed down she looked like a slob, so she usually dressed up,
which was fine in a city like Philadelphia. But out here in the
boonies, she felt like a smacked ass in her kitten heels and
dress.

Say you were coming from a funeral. Who
died?
She pressed her head into the steering wheel.
Just go
home. Maybe Friends is on.

There was a tap on her window and she
jumped. Holy fuck. It was him. The guy from the grocery store. She
turned her key and rolled down the window. Her mountain man
smiled.

“I thought that was you. Fun’s inside. What
are you doing out here?”

Mallory stared, just stared. Did he suddenly
remember her? She frowned. It was an act, in the grocery store. He
must not have wanted his friend to see her. Her lips tightened and
she scowled at him.

“What? You suddenly remember me?” She
couldn’t help the snarky tone.

He frowned. “What are you talking about?
Mallory Fenton, trespasser and jogger extraordinaire. How could I
forget?”

What?
Why was he being so nice? She
didn’t want to like him. Only a complete asshole would act like
they don’t know someone when they take the time to say hello. He’d
embarrassed her. “Well, you sure had a brain fart the other day in
the market.”

“Uh…I haven’t been to the market in months.”
He made a bashful expression. “I’m a momma’s boy. She does all the
cooking.”

He lived with his mom? Wait, he was lying
again! “I saw you. I looked right at you and said hi. You acted
like you didn’t know me.”

He frowned then smiled as though something
occurred to him. “When you saw me, did I have this tattoo?”

She looked at the arm he displayed. There
was some sort of Irish tribal inked into his skin. How had she
missed that before? His flannel had probably been covering it. “I
don’t know.”

“You probably saw Luke, my brother. We’re
twins.”

“It was definitely—wait, twins?”

He nodded. “Identical. People get us
confused all the time.”

Oh my God, you are such a total idiot.

She laughed nervously. “Oh. I didn’t know
you had a twin. You two look exactly the same. Might want to think
about tagging your ear or something.”

“Most people can tell by our tattoos. Wanna
come in and have a drink?”

“How about a shot?”

“My kind ’a girl.” He smiled and opened her
door. She rolled up her window and pulled out the key. Relief
repaired some of her hurt feelings as she walked toward the
entrance with him, careful not to touch him. He didn’t smell as
woodsy as before. Tonight he wore light cologne that smelled really
yummy.

“Why are you all dressed up? You have some
fancy party to go to or something?”

“Or something.”

He held the door and she stepped into the
entryway. It was the usual pub done in greens and browns with dim
lighting and pool tables. Nobody really noticed her coming in, but
when her mountain man entered various people waved and called out
to him. He nodded and put his hand on her back—causing her to
tense—as he ushered her to the bar.

The bartender, a very sexy guy with striking
blue eyes to match the blue highlights in his black hair came over
and greeted them. “Finnegan, my man. Who’s your friend?”

“Kelly, this is Mallory Fenton. Mallory
Fenton, this is my brother, Kelly.”

She smiled. “Another brother?”

“Aye, we’re a big brood,” Kelly said as he
placed coasters on the bar. “What can I get’chya?”

“Mallory here would like a shot,” her
mountain man—Finnegan—said.

“Pick your poison,” Kelly said.

“Tequila with lime.”

Kelly nodded. “Finn?”

“I’ll take a shot of Telly.”

Kelly turned and prepared the shots. When
they appeared in front of them, Finnegan raised his glass and said,
“To trespassers and runnin’ when something’s chasing you.”

She laughed and tapped her glass to his. The
fiery liquid burned down her throat and she hissed. Her face
puckered as she sucked on the lime. Dropping it in the shot glass,
she said, “I needed that.”

The two brothers smiled at her. “Where you
from, love?” Kelly asked.

She hadn’t eaten much that day and the booze
was swirling nicely in her blood. She grinned. He called her love
and she wasn’t about to correct him. “Philly.”

“Ah, a city girl. How’d you meet Finn?”

She glanced at Finnegan as his brother
replenished their drinks. “We, uh, sort of just ran into each
other.”

“Solute,” Finnegan said, raising his
glass.

She tapped his and tipped the shot back.

“Where’s Erin?” Kelly asked.

“She’ll be here eventually. How about a
Guinness? You ever try a car bomb, Mallory?”

“When you drop the shot in the beer?”

“Yeah. You gotta chug it.”

She laughed. This was the most fun she’d had
in weeks. “I’ll be picking myself up off the floor soon.”

“No,” Kelly said, filling two pilsners with
dark, black beer. “We’ll pick you up.”

He slammed down two beers followed by two
creamy shots. She took a deep breath. “All right, show me how it’s
done.”

Finn grinned and dropped the shot, glass and
all, into his beer. The brew faded with a rising shade of tan. He
tipped back the glass and guzzled. His throat was long and tan,
rough with stubble. What a nice, little mountain man.

He slammed down his empty pilsner and the
shot glass rattled inside. “You’re up, Philly.”

She grinned at his challenge and dropped her
shot in her glass. It was difficult to drink. She wasn’t the
chugging sort, more of a light sipper. The beer was potent and
strong and she wasn’t sure she liked it. They cheered and patted on
the bar, creating a wild drumroll that made her heart race and her
grin tighten. When she swallowed the last sip she gasped and they
roared with applause. Kelly reached over and rang a bell.

People looked to see what all the ruckus was
and she flushed. Well, she’d wanted to make friends. This was one
way to break out of her wallflower status.

Finn threw down a twenty. “Oh!” Where were
her manners? She reached for her purse. “Here.”

He waved her off. “Those were on me. So have
you been running lately?”

Music kicked on and she shouted into his
ear. “Why are you so obsessed with my exercise habits?”

He shrugged. “It’s what I know about you.
You run.”

“I do other stuff.”

“Like what? Drink?”

“Well, that too. I don’t know. I like to go
to restaurants…” Watch reality TV, sit at home alone and read,
vacuum…” Never mind.”
You’re such a loser.

“No, tell me. What else does Mallory Philly
Fenton like to do?”

Kelly placed two ordinary beers in front of
them and went to help some other customers. “I guess I don’t really
do anything since I moved here. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Well, what did you do in the city?”

She shrugged. “Worked. Slept. Attended
uncountable baby showers.”

“Aw, women love that crap.”

Her face scrunched and she drew back. “Who
told you that? Baby showers suck.”

“They do? My mom and sisters had one for
Sammy last year and they all went nuts over it.”

“Who’s Sammy?” She was getting tipsy.

“My sister-in-law, Colin’s wife. I told you,
she works at the school.”

“Oh. Right. Well, she may have loved it and
maybe your mom, but most women find them tedious and annoying.”

“Really?”

“God yeah! There’s nothing worse than
playing what’s smeared in the diaper and wearing beribboned
hats.”

“Yeah, Sammy wore a hat!”

“Exactly,” she said, tipping the neck of her
beer in his direction. “They suck. If I ever have kids I don’t want
one.”

“You get a ton of crap.”

“True and baby stuff
is
expensive. I
should know. I’ve bought enough over the past year. Maybe I’ll have
one, but with ground rules.”

“There you go. And what are they sniffing
out of diapers?”

“Melted chocolate or baby food. Some women
even lick it.”

“No!”

“Yup. Woman do all kinds of crazy shit when
men aren’t around,” she informed him, taking another sip of her
beer.

He stared at her for a long moment, a
half-smile crooking his lips. “Like what? Tell me more secrets
about the female species.”

“Oh, I don’t know…okay. Women can have a
closet full of clothes and nothing to wear.”

“Even I knew that. Tell me something good,”
he said, sipping his beer. He had a great Adam’s apple. Really nice
and defined.

“Women fart.”

“I have two sisters—well, three now—I know
that too. You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

She thought for a minute. “When women have
sleepovers we wear ugly clothes and old lady granny panties and
there’s no pillow fights.”

His expression sobered. “Why would you tell
me that? You just killed, like, hundreds of fantasies.”

She laughed and smacked his shoulder. “No
man really believes that.”

“Sure we do. At least tell me when you girls
use the locker rooms you all shower together.”

It was her turn to sober. Nope, that
definitely never happened. She’d mastered the art of a full
wardrobe change without showing a spot of flesh years ago. He was
staring at her with those expectant blue eyes. “Sure, we do
that.”

“Really?” His smile was back. He had great
teeth.

She pushed him. “No!”

He tipped his head back and groaned. “You’re
killing me, Philly. What else you got?”

“There’s a magic spot on a girls neck that
will make her do whatever you want.”

He stilled, beer tipped to his mouth and
raised an eyebrow. “Where is this magical spot you speak of?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Oh, come on!”

She edged off her stool and stood. The
alcohol had definitely gotten to her. She leaned close—wow, he
smelled good—and ran her finger from his ear, down his stubble, to
the curve of his shoulder. “It’s right here.”

He shifted and she knew she gave him chills.
“I can see that.” He sipped his beer and the moment was broken.
“What else you got?”

“You guys need another one?” Kelly appeared
in front of them.

“Shh, she’s giving me pearls here, Kelly.
Don’t interrupt.”

“Pearls of what?” Their empties were removed
and replaced with fresh bottles.

“Girl secrets,” Finn said.

“Oh, I know all of them,” Kelly announced
and Mallory had no doubt he did. There was something intoxicating
about Kelly McCullough that every female probably reacted to,
something that said
I’m a bad boy who will break your heart, but
make up for it in the sack.

Kelly turned away and Finn nodded for her to
go on.

“Okay, women like a man in charge.”

“Right, holding doors and picking up tabs.
Got it.”

“No, more than that. I mean really in
charge.”

“Like in bed?”

She nodded. “We work hard and make only a
portion of what men make. When it comes to equality we don’t want
it in the bedroom. We want a man in charge.”

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