A Word with the Bachelor Read Free

a negative on dissuasion. Her sunny disposition made him want to put on his shades. Looking at her was like coming out of a pitch-dark room into light so bright it made your eyes hurt. Even her shoulder-length brown hair had sunlit, cheerful streaks running through it. And flecks of gold brightened her pretty green eyes. She wasn’t extraordinarily beautiful, not like his ex-wife. But she was vulnerable, yet strong—a compelling combination somehow and he didn’t want to be compelled.
    â€œJack?”
    Hearing her say his name snapped him back. “What?”
    â€œTalking about your work-in-progress might get the creative juices flowing.”
    â€œThat’s not my process,” he said stubbornly.
    â€œOkay.” She thought for a moment. “Then let’s talk about what your process is.”
    â€œYou’re like a pit bull.” Harley was in his bed beside the desk and he reached down to scratch the dog’s head. Instantly the animal rolled onto his back and Jack almost smiled. “Once you sink your teeth in you don’t let go.”
    â€œNice try.” Those flecks in her eyes darkened, making them more brown than green. She looked like a teacher who’d just figured out someone was attempting to pull a fast one. “You’re trying to deflect attention from yourself. Let’s get something straight, Jack. This isn’t about me.”
    So that flanking maneuver didn’t work. Time for a contingency plan. “I have the situation under control.”
    â€œGood. All you have to do is give Cheryl a firm date for manuscript delivery.”
    He couldn’t exactly do that. “I’m still working out some plot details.”
    â€œOkay. So let’s talk about that.”
    â€œLook, Erin, my name and mine alone is on the front of the book. The content is my personal responsibility and I take that very seriously. I don’t write by committee.”
    â€œAh,” she said, as if just understanding something.
    â€œWhat does that mean?” He was pretty sure his facial expression wasn’t easy to read, unlike hers.
    â€œI had a similar conversation when I worked with Corinne Carlisle. She was uncomfortable in the beginning of our cooperative efforts. A clandestine collaboration, she called it. I thought that was a personal quirk of hers, or a chick thing.”
    â€œIt wasn’t?”
    She shook her head. “I believe it’s a writer thing.”
    â€œCall it what you want. I just prefer to work alone.”
    His gaze was drawn to her legs when she crossed one over the other. The jeans she was wearing were a little loose and left too much to the imagination because he suspected the hidden curves would be well worth a look. Probably a good thing the denim wasn’t skintight. It would only be a distraction that he didn’t want or need.
    â€œAlone.” She nodded her understanding of his statement. “I heard you were a loner.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œCheryl explained the downside of this assignment. She made sure I knew that you don’t play well with others.”
    The words hung in the air between them for several moments. Jack couldn’t tell whether or not that was a criticism. It really didn’t matter. On the upside, maybe she was finally getting the message.
    â€œBy definition a loner needs to be alone.”
    â€œI understand.” Her tone was soothing, like a shrink would use, or a hostage negotiator.
    â€œDon’t patronize me,” he said.
    â€œI’m sorry you feel I’m doing that. It wasn’t my intention.” She stopped for a moment, thinking, as if to come up with the right words to make him understand. “I respect your commitment to responsibility in writing the book you want to write. But I have undertaken this assignment and Cheryl is expecting tangible results. I’m not backing down from the challenge of you. It’s best you accept that. So, we