Page 139 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
He wasn’t.
“Are we going?” Dougie bit out, dialing up his pace.
Raz glanced past her, tucking away his sweet smile and sizing up his competition. “Absolutely.”
The crackle and pop of air between the men couldn’t be denied. She should tell the guys to knock it off. This was a training session. But psychic energy, like kinetic energy, was a curious thing. Often, it took less effort to let it work itself out rather than try to restrain it. And there was no holding back Raz and Doug now. Even their burros, breathing hard and gazes locked on the trail, seemed to sense the intensity of the moment.
Libby pulled her attention from the guys and scanned the trail for Sebastian. He’d stopped not far from the creek bed. They’d taught him to never cross without them.
“Move to the side of the trail and wait for me, Sebastian. Your dad and Doug are going to pick up the pace,” she called.
“Waiting on you, plum. We go on your call,” Raz said, back to flashing her that secret smile—that expression that said, you’re mine.
And again, the question hovered in her mind. Could she be his?
“Plum?” he rasped as time seemed to slow down.
Was the universe about to give her the answer?
She glanced from side to side.
The energy coming off the guys could melt iron.
Here goes everything.
“Ready,” she called.
The men edged ahead of her.
“Set.”
Raz peered over his shoulder and tossed her a cocky wink. With determination written on his face, she couldn’t deny that the trait that had once driven her to bang gongs and throw vibrators was now quite the turn-on.
She tossed the man a little wink of her own, then let loose. “Go.”
In that split second, the anticipation in the air shifted. The raw desire to win erupted, and the men were off.
Twenty-One
Libby
Stone chipsand bits of dirt rose from the trail as the men took off, rocketing toward the creek.
Hoofs and feet pounding, the race was on.
Ace and Beefcake released a chorus of hee-haw battle cries as Raz, Doug, and the hyped-up burros charged past Sebastian. The men hit the shallow part of the creek with a force that sent sprays of droplets above their heads and splashes of water pelting their legs.
“Go, Dad! Go, Beefcake!” Sebastian cried. “And Dougie, the wanker, you can—”
“Sebastian,” she called, cutting him off as she and Plum jogged up to the child.
“Sorry, Mibby, that’s thepunin me getting riled up.”
“The pun in you?” she repeated, biting back a grin and guiding Plum toward the shallow water as Sebastian got onto his bike and rode alongside her.
“Thepunchpart of pun-chi yoga. That Doug makes me want to kick things and punch my dad’s heavy bag.”
Like father, like son.
