Damn him for drawing my eyes down to a defined V that leads into his pants. Damn him for being sexy first thing on a Sunday morning, with his ruffled hair and playful eyes. Damn him for existing, and damn the first Bryan Kincaid for stealing a girl fifty years ago.
“Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m looking for a fuckbuddy.” I step into my jeans, and repress the way my stiff knees smart at the movement. “And even if I was, my single status doesn’t automatically default to you just because you pout about it.”
“I’m just pleased that I don’t have to fight him for you.”
“Scared you’d lose?”
He barks out a loud laugh. “Mostly I’m scared I’ll catch the genes that make him such a fuckin’ loser. Now, I only have to fight you. And call me crazy, but I might have fun sparring with you over this.”
“Crazy.” I button my jeans and sit back down to pull on my sneakers.
The doorbell rings, and draws my eyes up with a snap.
I look to Bryan with panic bubbling in my chest. “Don’t you dare.”
“Sorry.” He bounds over the couch with a giggle. “It would be rude not to answer.”
“Bryan!” I spin on the couch, but come to a stop when I get an eyeful of the ink that spreads from the back of his neck right down into his pants.
I pant, like a fucking dog, as I study the black Mustang sitting atop a midnight-darkened freeway. The shading of a person sitting inside, with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other wrapped around a second person. A woman. The road fades into other things; a garden, a woman’s face, playing cards, and names interspersed between them all.
It’s a storyboard, a visual happily ever after.
He looks over his shoulder when I go quiet. “You looked, huh?” He doesn’t need a response, he only smirks. “Agree to fuck me, and I’ll make our visitors go away.”
“I will not.” I stand and fold my arms with pure defiance shining in my eyes. “I do not negotiate with terrorists.”
He shrugs and skips to his front door with a filthy grin.
I stay where I am, pray for the Earth to open up and swallow me whole, but when I hear voices – multiple – I cry a little for what’s coming.
“Hey! Come on in!” Bry is extra enthusiastic. Extra obnoxious. He’s extra everything, and infuriating while he’s at it.
I stand my ground, paste on my most professional face, but when my worst nightmares round the corner and step into the living room, I shrivel.
“Oh.” Evie stops on a dime, skids on the tile, and studies me with wide eyes. I’m dressed… but I did not check my hair before declaring I would hold the line. “Wow… um… okay.” She looks to Lucy, then to Ben. Finally, she looks to Bry with lifted brows. “Did I miss a meeting for the endorsement deal?”
“Nope.” Bry comes around the couch and yanks me to his side with so much strength that he robs my body of breath. “We fucked.”
“Oh!”
“Bryan!” I spin in his arms and slam my fist against his ribs. “We did not!” I turn to Evie and swallow down what I’m certain is vomit. “We did not! He’s lying.”
“She has ink in secret places.” He grins for his cousins as they stand in place and cover their smiles. “Bet you didn’t expect a chick in a skirt suit to have ink in her private places, but here we are, and that shit is true.”
“It’s on my thigh, you douchebag.” I shove him off when he tries to grab me again. I turn back to Evie. “We did not f—” I swallow and summon the business professional I pretend to be. “I didn’t. We didn’t. I would never.”
“You wouldn’t?” She releases Ben’s hand and wanders forward with a taunting smile. “You think you’re too good for my cousin?”
“What? No! I didn’t say—” I close my mouth with a snap. “I didn’t say that. I’m saying that you have the wrong idea about what’s going on here.”
She comes to stop in front of us. Studies me from my toes to my hair. Then she extends a hand that I automatically take.
It’s the business professional in me. The deeply entrenched manners that demand I take her hand.
But she doesn’t shake it. She spins it, and glances at my elbows. Cut, with dried blood.
“Wowza.”
“Oh my god!” I screech above Bry’s chortling laughter. “That’s not what it looks like!”
Evie only looks to her cousin and offers a fist. When he bumps it, she does a little head-bob. “Nice score, Bry. I’m surprised, but not unimpressed.” She looks to me. “You’re very pretty. He chose well.”
“We didn’t– I didn’t—” Then her words hit me. “You think I’m pretty?”
She laughs. “I’m not the only one. You… uh… have fun?”
“We didn’t have sex!” I cry out, only to draw laughter from everyone else in the room. “I swear we didn’t.”
“She has a birthmark on her butt cheek.”
“I do not!” I slap the back of my hand against Bryan’s toned and disgustingly hard stomach. “I’m in a business partnership with these people, and now you have them thinking you and I are…” I widen my eyes, like that will help explain the way my brain is exploding.
I turn back Evie. “We didn’t. He’s teasing.”
She lifts a dainty shoulder in lieu of saying she doesn’t care. “Ben and I are in business partnership, too. Doesn’t mean he didn’t do nasty things to me this morning.”
“Eve,” he groans. “Discretion, please.”
She grins. “He’s shy sometimes. He’s a sweetheart like that.” She walks back to her man and slides under his arm. “Anyway, it’s cool you’re here. We were coming to talk Stacked Deck anyway.”
“That’s…” I shake my head and curse the nausea that rolls in my stomach. “None of my business. I’ll get out of your way and let you do your thing.” I spin away from Bry’s grabbing hands and snatch up my bag. “I’m sorry that I interrupted.”
“Not as sorry as me,” he extra groans. Then he looks to Evie. “Breakfast?”
“Sure!” She flashes a playful smile and contradicts everything I thought I knew about her.
I thought she was a bitch. I thought she was unapproachable. So far, she’s a tease, but she’s not mean about it.
She takes Ben’s hand and begins dragging him toward the kitchen. “We’ll start cooking.”
“I’ll just see myself out.” I slide my bag over my shoulder and try my best to slink away. “See ya, guys.”
“Nope.” Bryan grabs me up so fast that I squeal, but he’s still shirtless, and now I’m in his arms. My stomach dips, then my eyes snap to his and stop. He’s right there, smiling eyes, plump lips glistening from running his tongue over them. “It’s not time for you to go home yet.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and hate that my arms go around his neck. His lips are just an inch from mine, so close, so unbelievably close, and yet, a million miles away.