Zane shook his head and moved back to the fence. His hands gripped the top rail. “You are the most obstinate, controlling, repressed woman I’ve ever met.”
“You’d rather I acted like the women you date?”
“Now you’re an expert on my type?”
“I know it the way I know July in Texas will be hot.”
“This I’ve got to hear.” Zane crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the fence.
“Your most important criterion is looks. Any woman you date must be attractive. I bet a nine is your minimum. You want someone who’ll laugh at your jokes, compliment you, and fawn all over you. But she better not make demands. Basically, you want a talking Barbie doll, the traditional ones, not the new ones with different body types and careers.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve criticizing me over looks when you won’t have anything to do with a guy better looking than you are.”
“I notice you didn’t say I was wrong about your type.” Her rigid posture and voice displayed her certainty.
She couldn’t be more wrong. “Then let me straighten you out. Looks aren’t my top priority. Like George Strait says, ‘I’m not here for a long time; I’m here for a good time.’ What matters most is that a woman knows how to have fun. Which leaves you outta luck.”
“Good.”
Her quick dismissal shouldn’t have stung but did. How would she like being in the hot seat? “Let’s talk about you.”
“Go right ahead. I can take constructive criticism.”
Meaning he couldn’t?
“You follow rules no matter what, even if one doesn’t make sense or if you don’t agree with it. As a kid, your parents never lost a minute of sleep worrying about you. Bet they still don’t. Your career is your whole life. You tell yourself when you’ve achieved enough goals, you’ll get a personal life. You don’t have a type because there’s no room for a man in your life.”
McKenna flinched and stumbled backward. Tears glistened in her eyes, and he felt as if he’d stolen a fly from a blind spider. He’d meant to pierce her skin with his jab, but he hadn’t meant his cut to go so deep. He avoided conflict almost as much as commitments. Why was it so tough to do with McKenna? “That was uncalled for.”
She stood spine stiff, her arms crossed over her chest, and her chin tilted upward. “There’s nothing wrong with putting career goals first.”
“Life doesn’t stand still waiting for you, darlin’. The world keeps moving, and you’re missing out. You’ll end up like Roy Franklin. He said when he retired, he’d visit Paris, France, and go deep-sea fishing. But he waited too long and his health deteriorated. He went straight into a nursing home without ever leaving Texas.”
“I could be a fun gal if I wanted to. It’s not hard.” McKenna pulled the clip out of her awful bun. Her long, slender fingers combed through her hair and she shook her head, sending it floating around her before the curls spilled down her back. The sunlight bounced off her hair, revealing small bits of gold.
Having her hair around her face softened her features instead of emphasizing the angles the way yanking her hair back so tight did, making her appear more relaxed, more approachable.
Next, she yanked off her horrid oatmeal-colored bulky cardigan and tossed it on the top fence rail. Taking off that horrible garment revealed she possessed slender curves. Definitely feminine enough for any man to notice. Why did she hide behind baggy, boxy, butt-ugly clothes his grandmother wouldn’t wear?
She tapped her delicate index finger against her full lower lip in thought. “I’m thinking fun women show off their assets.”
When her fingers moved to the buttons on her blouse, his heart rate jumped. She popped open the second button. His eyes widened in shock. His mouth went dry. Then she undid the third, leaving her neckline hanging open in a deep V, teasing him with a glimpse of cleavage. He grew light-headed and sweat broke out on his forehead.
“What the hell are you doing?” And why wasn’t he stopping her?
Admit it. You want to see how far she’ll go, and if you’ll feel something real.
“I’m proving a point.” Then she sauntered toward him, her hips gently swaying.
His palms itched to touch her. A shiver rippled through him. He’d lost his mind.
The image of McKenna after the engagement party, barefoot, her skirt billowing around her as she spun around dancing with her broom, her face glowing with passion as she sang materialized before him.
While she wasn’t classically beautiful, there was something about her that drew him. Her honest, plain speaking. Her strength and confidence. And her voice. Whenever she got irritated, it turned husky, and all he could hear was her magnificent singing voice.
She stopped in front of him. If he dipped his gaze a bit, he’d get a clear view of her cleavage. His gaze remained locked on her face. He longed to reach out and pull her toward him, but he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Why, Zane. I never imagined I’d be here like this with you. That you’d notice me.”
