“That’s two questions.”
“You asked me how my dad died and about my family. We’ll be even then.”
Actually, that wasn’t bad. She didn’t know if she would be able to perform the forfeit without passing out from excitement, so she’d rather answer the easy ones. “I never knew my father. I grew up in this cabin with my mom.”
“Was she like you? Gifted?”
“You mean weird? Yup. She hated to go into town. We went maybe once a month to Harrison when I was younger, not too often. She home-schooled me till I was about thirteen, then I put my foot down and insisted on going to a normal school.” She smiled. “Mom was actually pretty decent about the whole thing. She’d drive me in her old Ford pickup every Monday and pick me up every Friday. I stayed with the daughter of one of her only friends.” She peered at him. “Ron White?”
Alex frowned, and then put a face to the name. “The old grocer?”
“Yeah. He was so sweet, and a great male influence for me. I loved staying with them.” As disloyal as she hated to feel to her mother, that had been another of thosenormaltimes in her life that Genevieve hugged to her chest.
“After I graduated, I went to the University of West Virginia.”
“Did you finish?”
She smiled, remembering her mother’s pride when she had earned her degree. “Yes. English degree. I loved to read.”
When she fell silent, he prompted her. “And then what? You came back to live here?”
“I spent a few years working at this newspaper. Then, yes, I came to live here. Mom—Mom was sick. She died two years ago.”
“What did she die of?”
Me.“Cancer.”
“I’m sorry, love.” His voice was heavy with regret. They didn’t speak for a little while. Alex took the cards from her and shuffled them in his hands. “Why did you stay after she died?”
Penance. Not that she could say it. “You’ve asked way more than two questions. Either deal, or let me go do some work.”
He shut up and dealt another hand. This game went on for much longer, and while they played, Alex teased and bantered. By the time he won with a satisfied smirk, Genevieve was in a much better mood.
She tensed, though, certain he would continue the earlier line of questioning. Instead, he gave her a naughty grin. “So. Who’s your ideal man?”
She blushed and contemplated forfeiting. Not because she didn’t want to answer the question, but because the answer was self-evident, and she really wanted to kiss him.
“Let me help you.” He picked up her hand and played with her fingertips. Sensations tingled through them everywhere he touched. “We’ll skip past personality because it goes without saying that he’d be someone smart, strong and attentive to your every need.” He waggled his dark brows at her, and her lips quirked.
“Let’s move on to looks.” He brought her hand to his head, and she threaded her fingers through the coarse silk without any coaxing from him. “He’d be dark?”
Genevieve licked her lips. “I’ve always been partial to blonds.”
“Hmm. There’s hair dye.” Still holding on to her hand, he brought it down his neck until it lay over his hard pec. “You’d want a bit of chest hair on him, I’m guessing.”
God, he had the perfect amount of hair on his body, a smattering on his chest that arrowed down into his boxers. “I prefer men who wax.”
He shuddered. “If that’s what it takes.” He drew her hand down farther to his belly. His hard, rippled, six-pack belly.
You’ve touched him here before. Stay cool.
Alex smirked. “You’ll want someone strong?”
“Unnnh-huh.” She swallowed. “I mean, I really love potbellies. Paunches.”
“I’ll start eating as soon as someone starts feeding me.”
“I love your body,” she said in a rush, her honesty taking over.
