A Heart's Endeavor Read Online Free PDF Page A

looked like two scoops of hard ice cream. So what if he was as handsome as Antonio Banderas. Aw, Mel, just face facts. You got the hots for the guy. From what she could tell his body was ripped. All that combined with his deep honeyed voice had her pulse leaping like beans on a hot griddle. No panic attack going on here, just pure sexual lust.
    Mel couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so blasted horny for a man’s touch. Just a few weeks ago she had gotten up the nerve to purchase a vibrator over the internet. Relieved that it arrived in a plain brown package, she had rushed into the house to give it a whirl. What a disappointment. And trolling for a man was out of the question. How did one troll for a man these days anyway?
    She studied Jack beneath lowered lashes. He wore his usual calm, cool facade, yet at times she thought she saw a spark of something in those green eyes. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Was it desire? Desire for her? No way. She was an older woman. Men fancied younger, more impressionable, girls that didn’t carry a few extra pounds around the belly or hips. Long gone were the days when a size six graced her body. Depending on the make, she could shove herself into a size ten pair of jeans and feel a small degree of comfort. Size twelves were stashed in the closet in case she felt bloated and just plain fat.
    “How about throwing a sandwich together for me?” He winked. “A fourteen-inch Italian sounds good.”
    To hell with a fourteen-inch Italian, Mel thought, a certain dark-haired trooper would work quite nicely for her. She had no clue how big Jack’s equipment was, but judging from the bulge she had seen the other day, he appeared well-endowed. A whoosh of heat skimmed up her cheeks and settled on her ears. What the hell was she doing wondering how many inches of cock the man sported? Holy smokes, she was as bad as the girls she worked with. If one spotted a hot guy pumping gas or walking past the registers they’d spread the word to their co-worker. They’d fight for the perfect position at the window facing the gas pumps.
    Elaine had the bright idea that if she paired an older woman with a younger one, it might keep the horseplay down to a minimum. If all the troopers looked as good as Jack, she might as well forget it.
    Mel’s belly quivered nervously. Jack stood in front of the sandwich unit with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest. He oozed authority, and her fingers shook just knowing he was watching her every move. “Could you please stand somewhere else?”
    He arched a brow. “Am I making you nervous?”
    “I—um—think it’s the uniform. Either that or it’s the way you’re crossing your arms. It’s quite intimidating, you know.” Geez, could he arrest her for calling him intimidating right to his face? That would mean he’d have to break out the cuffs. Oh my.
    Jack dropped his arms to his sides and smiled. “Sorry. The last thing I want to do is intimidate you.” Distracted by the appealing curve of his mouth, Mel jumped when her wrist was captured in a gentle, but firm clasp. “Don’t douse it with that motor oil.”
    Puzzled, she looked at the bottle in her hands.
    “That’s the stuff with balsamic vinegar, oil, and some other ingredient Bob won’t divulge. Just squirt a little bit of plain oil on it.” His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist before he dropped his hand to his side once again. “There are a few things I like soggy, but not my sandwich.”
    Mel’s knees almost buckled. Okaaay, so he liked certain things soggy. Well hell, was a soggy pussy on his list? Her face heated. Lord, that word was not a normal part of her vocabulary. Perhaps being around these young girls was loosening up her usual conservative nature. Or maybe it was the hot state trooper standing right in front of her. Either way a picture of Jack in his uniform with his head between her legs, her totally naked, was now permanently embedded in