Page 13 of Making Over Maris

Chapter Three

Three days—three agonizing days later—she finally got back to him. She found him having lunch in the break room and plopped into an empty chair at his table, dropping a heavy tote bag on the chair beside her. She rooted around in it and pulled out a sheaf of papers, which she shoved across the table at him.

Jack took them with numb fingers. “What’s this?”

Sara crossed her arms over her chest and gored him with a militant stare. “Step one. A diet and exercise plan. Follow it.”

He scanned the sheets. His heart pounded. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I can’t eat like this.”

“You can and you will.” She frowned at his prefabricated microwavable sandwich. “If nothing else it’ll give you an appreciation of what women go through trying to look nice for you men.”

Was that bitterness in her tone? Hard to tell, the way she snarled the words.

“Um. Okay.” He could try the stupid diet. He scanned the sheet again. Ugh. Vegetables. He could probably try it. “Is that all?”

“Not hardly.” She tried to hide her smirk but failed spectacularly. “Here.” She hefted the tote bag onto the table and thrust it at him. “Study these.”

“What’s this?” He peeked in the bag. Books.

Books?

That was her big plan?

Books?

He pulled one out and glanced at the cover. Winced. It was ratty and old and entitled The Gentleman’s Handbook.

She made a face. “All right, that one’s from the fifties. I know it’s outdated but hey, you gotta start somewhere. It’s a great reference on how to behave with a woman.”

“Okay.” Sure. He’d read it. Because she thought it was important. He set the book aside and pulled out another.

“That’s a collection of popular pick-up lines. Memorize them.”

Jack flipped through the book, reading a line here or there. Awesome. Some awesome stuff. “Sweet.”

“Memorize them Jack…and don’t use them.” Her voice warbled with intensity.

“What?” He probably didn’t need to squawk. But seriously? These pick-up lines were golden.

Wanna have breakfast sometime? Should I call you or nudge you? Classic.

“I’m serious.” Her button nose wrinkled up. “Never use these lines. Women have heard them all before and they come off as cheesy.”

He added the book to the pile on the table and fished out another. The cover featured a blazing display—a half-dressed wanton in the arms of a beefy shirtless hunk. He blanched. “What’s this?”

“It’s a romance novel, Jack.” She said his name as though it tasted bad. “One of the best ones ever written in my humble opinion.”

“You want me to read a romance novel?”

She drummed her fingers on the table. The rhythm resonated through the small room. “Are you questioning me?”

Jack stilled. Heat scoured him. His cock stirred. It always did when she used that tone of voice. He dropped his gaze and shivered. “No.” A whisper.

“You’d better not. I told you I was going to work you, Jack. And I meant it.”

Another shiver. He glanced up at her. His mouth pooled with drool and he swallowed heavily. She was so beautiful when her eyes gleamed with that commanding light. When her nostrils flared delicately with annoyance. When her fingers drummed on the table.

So beautiful he could barely stand it.