“Not with that.” Evan gestured toward the can in Brian’s hand. “Open container law. You do this on purpose to bait me, don’t you?”
“Jesus Christ. You’re such a lawyer.” Brian always spat the word as if it were a curse.
“That may be, but right now I’m big brother and you’re not leaving my house drinking. Wait till you get to Michelle’s. Hand it over.”
Kelsey was watching the heated exchange with her eyebrows in her hairline. But she’d get used to it, if she hung around the two of them for any length of time. If she really wanted to see ugliness, she should watch Evan’s older sister lay into Brian. Or his mother, who reverted to Italian when she was really pissed off.
“Fine.” Brian shoved the beer into Evan’s hands. “Enjoy with my compliments, you rat bastard.”
“I surely will, since it’s mine.”
Brian flipped him off as he exited through the patio door.
“Well,” Kelsey said in the silence that followed, during which they both stared at the door where he had disappeared. “That was…”
“Minor. Trust me. Sorry you had to witness it.” He took a swig of Brian’s abandoned beer and walked around the counter to the refrigerator. “Want a drink?”
God, did she ever. If anyone had told her a month ago this would be happening, she would have accused them of being insane. “Sure.”
“Margaritas?”
“Sounds good.”
He set to work making them and she took a moment, as always, to envy him his kitchen. It was a hodgepodge of rugged brick, wrought-iron scrollwork and stainless steel, making her think of an old Italian bistro with plenty of modern upgrades. She loved this entire house…a log-cabin style with pale, naked wood walls and hardwood floors. It wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small…just right for him. And maybe one other person, of course. It had two bedrooms downstairs and a loft that overlooked the living room—he used the upstairs as his home office. It was filled with law books. Right now she had a couple of quilts her great-grandmother had made that would look gorgeous hanging over the loft railing. It was a crime they were bagged up in her closet, but she had nowhere to display them that did justice to their beauty or their preciousness to her.
I’m redecorating his house in my head. Crazy, girl. Crazy.
He’d bought the place shortly after proposing to Courtney and they’d lived here around eighteen months before she decided she liked Kelsey’s life better. For whatever reason.
Now that was a crazy girl.
Evan looked incredibly edible tonight—she couldn’t recall ever thinking he didn’t. He was wearing a pair of worn, faded jeans, and he was owning them. A white polo shirt hugged his broad shoulders, so stark and sexy set against his olive complexion and his raven-black hair. Hair that was still damp and redolent from a recent shower. She could spend her entire day doing nothing more than inhaling his scent. Or staring at that ass. It was one fine ass. What she wouldn’t give to feel it bare and cupped in her hands, urging him deeper……
God. Hopefully he would think her full-body blush was still from Brian’s ribbing. What had she been thinking wearing this top? She must be splotchy all over. Maybe she needed to rethink some of the clothes she’d packed, as well.
He finished making her margarita, and even the first few sips made her head swim a bit. It had been too long. She wasn’t much of a drinker, though she indulged on special occasions. And tonight would definitely count.
“Do you need any help?” she offered, though he seemed to have it all well under control.
He smiled on his way out to the grill with a platter. “Nope, but you can come outside with me.”
They sat poolside while she nursed her margarita and he drank a longneck, watching the moon’s slow climb into the heavens. A scrumptious aroma drifted over from the grill, mingling with the summery scent of chlorine and citronella. God, she could get used to this. But it wasn’t long before her clothes were sticking to her and she was tempted to dive headfirst into his pool to escape the heat. As soon as the steaks were done, they went back into the bliss of the air conditioning.
Kelsey wandered into his living room with every pretense of sitting and relaxing, but really she just wanted to survey the environment he dwelled in……post-Courtney. She’d never seen it without the other woman’s influence.
She hadn’t had very much, it seemed. The furniture was the same, as were the decorative pictures on the walls. What had changed, she noticed with a slow spread of warmth in her chest, was the addition of a few pictures of Evan and Kelsey together.
Laughing at a party, arm in arm. Hugging at their graduation wearing their caps and gowns. She’d been crying just before that picture was taken because she was a sap like that. But it had been the end of an era for her—a fun one—and quite scary to contemplate moving with Todd to a strange town. Evan had come home with them, though he’d been busy most of the summer getting ready to move to Austin to start law school. Thank goodness he had come back here once he was done, when he could have gone anywhere he wanted.
“These are great,” she said when she heard him enter the room behind her.
“Yep. The good ol’ days.”
“You didn’t have the pictures here before. I guess Courtney didn’t like them.”
“Sometimes it’s just easier to keep the peace, you know?”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Tell me about it.”
“So what’s been going on with you? I haven’t seen you in a couple of months.”
“The usual. Work. Volunteering. Not much else.”
“Been seeing anybody?”
The question surprised her. “No.”
“Surely not from lack of offers, though.” He winked at her as he took a drink of his beer.
“Well, I have been asked out a couple of times. I just didn’t feel up to it yet. What about you?” She thought she knew the answer, but feared she might be wrong.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Been flying solo all this time. Can you believe it?”
Given his track record? No, she couldn’t. Ever since she’d known him he hadn’t gone more than a month between girlfriends. “I guess it’s a good thing to take some time to yourself…” She trailed off and scoffed, then laughed miserably. “What the hell am I saying? I hate it.”
Evan nodded, not taking his gaze from her. “Yeah, me, too.”
He missed Courtney. He had to, even if pride wouldn’t allow him to say it. Even if he wouldn’t admit it around her, knowing how she felt about the woman.
“You know, it’s okay if…if you want to talk about all that,” she began, her voice more tentative than she would have liked. “I mean if you need to get something out or whatever. I know sometimes it doesn’t seem like I can take it without going off, but I can. I just want you to know I’m here for you. I don’t want you to think there are things you can’t say to me. We’ve always been able to talk about anything and everything, and I don’t want that to change.”
There. The spiel was out. Hopefully it had knocked the first dent in the wall that had sprung up between them last Christmas. She couldn’t stand its presence anymore. They hadn’t asked for this, it had been done to them.
“I appreciate that, and I want you to know the same goes for me.” He gave her a look she felt all the way down to her toes. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
She shook her head. “Nah.”
“Yes. I mean it. I know you can take it, Kelsey. You can take anything anyone dishes out. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
It was nice to hear, but it left a messy splat where her heart used to be, because he was so wrong about her. She wasn’t the girl he’d known in college. That girl had been resilient. She’d had to be, to nurture all that unrequited love for Evan and still be able to face seeing him every day. To find the strength to finally let go and redirect it to someone else.
But look where it had gotten her.
By the time all
the food was ready, she was parked on the leather sofa, nearly full on tortilla chips and hot sauce. He made the best salsa that had ever crossed her lips, lots of cilantro, the way she liked it.
“This stuff is amazing, as usual,” she called, popping another chip in her mouth. The dip was a little spicier than she liked and she’d been relying rather heavily on the pitcher of margaritas to dampen the sting—of both her downward-spiraling emotions and the sauce. She was lucky the latter wasn’t worse. Evan wanted almost everything he ate to be four-alarm.
He grinned as he brought their plates in from the kitchen. She would’ve helped him, but the room seemed to tilt a bit whenever she stood. “Come over more often, and I’ll spring some of my mom’s recipes on you,” he told her.
“I can’t believe you like to cook so much.”
He sat beside her, handing her a plate. She had to repress a fidget as his left knee pressed against her right, his heat suffusing her. And she was already hot enough as it was, flushed with tequila. She hated to eat in here, afraid she’d make a mess in her clumsy state, but he’d insisted it was fine. He had several seasons of Seinfeld on DVD and since they had always been addicts—and Todd and Courtney had hated the show—a marathon was in order. “I don’t mind it,” he said. “Besides, if I didn’t cook, Brian might starve to death.”
“Speaking of, you two are the very definition of ‘polar opposites’. Not that I even have to tell you that.”
“Yeah, it’s like all the drive and ambition in the family ran out after me.”
“I think it’s nice that you look out for him, though. He needs you, whether he admits it or not.”
“He frustrates me. He’s got potential, he just doesn’t care. We had to threaten him with everything under the sun to even get him to finish high school. I worry about him.”
In profile she could see the tight set of his jaw. She really didn’t know what to say to comfort him about that.
Yep, college all over again. She cut vigorously into her steak and popped a juicy piece into her mouth. Evan hadn’t lost his touch. Steak sauce would be an abomination on this. He’d baked potatoes, too, and hers was piled high with butter, cheese and sour cream. She couldn’t even begin to discern everything that topped his. But she would lay bets it wouldn’t put an ounce on his frame.
He was watching her chew. “I remembered that you don’t like it too spicy, so I went easy on yours,” he said. “I hope it’s all right.”
“It’s perfect,” she assured him. It seemed to practically melt in her mouth. He was awesome. There was nothing he couldn’t do.
“Well, there’re a few things, I guess.”
Oh, crap, had she spoken out loud? She’d have to watch that, only open her mouth to insert food. Yeah, right. The margaritas were just too good.
An hour passed…or two or more, she wasn’t sure, she just knew they demolished pretty much everything in his kitchen and her glass kept getting empty and Evan kept pressing in closer and closer at her side—or maybe she was leaning on him. They were still laughing at each other and the hilarity ensuing on his plasma screen, but her clothes had become such an irritating scrape against her heated flesh she could hardly cope.
She blew out a breath and tugged at her shirt, trying to pull it away from her sensitized breasts, but that didn’t alleviate the friction her damn strapless bra was causing across her nipples. She stretched, arching her back and rolling her head on her shoulders. When she stopped, the room kept rolling. Or maybe her head was still moving. She couldn’t tell. She just knew it was damn funny.
Evan watched Kelsey giggle as she tried in vain to get control of her neck muscles. A sense of dread was fast overtaking his thoughts. “Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, and the question shocked her eyes fully open.
“Sure am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I realize now that pitcher of ’ritas I made is just about empty.”
“Ohhhh…’m sorry, didja want more? Is my head moving?”
Yep. Blitzed. She’d probably be puking in no time. “No and yes. Kelsey, how long has it been since you had anything to drink?”
She giggled again. She was doing a lot of that. Her eyes closed. “Dunno. Can’t remember. Long time.”
“Looks like you can’t hold your liquor, honey.”
Her brows drew together, her lips forming a perfect pout. She cracked open one eye to peer up at him. “I can too lick my holder.”
Evan burst into laughter and pulled her against him. She was damn near dead weight. Party’s over. “I bet you can. Come on, up we go.” When he stood, she flopped over on the couch without him there to support her. He slid one arm under her back and his other behind her knees. She grumbled incoherently when he lifted her… Christ, she was featherlight in his arms. He was glad he’d shoveled food down her all night. Now if she could just hang on to it. He should have noticed the gradual depletion of the pitcher of margaritas.
One small lamp in a far corner was the only illumination in his bedroom as he carried her inside cradled in his arms. The clock on his nightstand told him in glowing red that it was a quarter till three. Kelsey snuggled into his chest, and he tried to ignore the smoothness of her bare legs across his forearm. Like warm, tantalizing silk. He sat her on his bed, supporting her weight as he pulled back the comforter. Still, she managed to escape his grip and began to topple backward.
“Whoa,” he laughed, reaching for her as her eyes popped open and she grabbed for him before she could land. “I got you.”
“Evan…” she murmured, wrapping her soft arms around his neck. Their position had her lips near his ear. She’d lost her headband somewhere. He could smell the strawberry of her shampoo, feel the tickle of her sluggish breath stirring his hair. “Evan.”
“Kelsey. Move over here, lie down.”
She pulled back slightly, her bleary eyes trying to focus on his. The weight of her head still seemed too much for her neck to support and her hair flowed over his arm. “Evan, I always liked you.”
“I always liked you, too, honey.” The way she kept saying his name in that intoxicated purr, savoring the v between her teeth and her bottom lip, was unnerving. Unnerving, hell. It had his dick twitching in his pants. “Come on, girl, you need to sleep it off.”
“I mean I like liked you.”
Shit. Most people who uttered careless words while drunk tended to blame it on the alcohol later. He’d always found it to be the time when the truth came out. Danger signals were going off in his brain. “You’re drunk. Sleep.”
Though she was most likely oblivious to his commands, he didn’t like how desperate his voice was starting to sound to his own ears.
“No I’m not.” Her silly lopsided grin belied her words as she finally obeyed his coaxing and crawled to the spot he’d cleared. He pulled the covers up for her as she settled against the pillow and peered up at him. The heat in her eyes as she did so damn near destroyed him. “I don’ wanna sleep.” She kicked, flinging the covers off just as he got them arranged. “Don’ need all that, I’m hot. I’m too hot.”
Was she ever. He raked a hand through his hair. For such a little thing, her legs seemed to go on forever, long and sleek. He could only imagine the silken glide her inner thighs would be against his fingertips. Her shirt had ridden up to bare her flat midriff, where her belly ring winked at him in the dim lighting—damn, that was sexy, and so out of place on her. Her breasts strained against the tight little shirt, and the friction had her nipples peaking beneath the fabric.
Her hands caught his face, surprising him. He should have moved away from her long ago, before she could get her hands on him. As it was, he felt like a fly caught in the sticky gossamer of a spider’s den. “Always wanted to fuck you, y’know that? Even when I was a virgin.”
He drew in a breath, exhaled it shakily. So much for prudish.
Note to self: Kelsey now gets unbelievably horny when drunk.
She licked her lips, staring into his eyes with surprising c
larity for someone who had nearly passed out moments ago. The glint of moisture her tongue left behind was mesmerizing. He wanted to taste it. The heat of her palms sank into his flesh. She was burning up. Her legs were haphazardly parted, still tangled in the covers, and he could scent her arousal, musky and sweet.
“It’s not going to happen, Kelsey.” His voice probably sounded as firm as a little girl’s, but he gave it his best shot. All his strength had drained to his dick. It pushed against his zipper until he thought it might burst through if he didn’t release it soon. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
That pout resurfaced, but he was astounded at the pain that leaked into her gray eyes. It was…real, and raw, not some byproduct of an inebriated mind.
“You don’ want me. Why’d you never want me?” She was rubbing her thighs together now, the action only causing her scent to waft stronger into his nostrils. Like witchcraft, it drew him toward her, made the mental filmstrip of tearing her shorts off and sinking himself into the tight wet heat of her pussy play over and over again in his head…until it obliterated all else: morals, rationale, sanity. And he had never wanted her. Right.
God, she would feel so good closing in around him. He’d deprived himself for too long. She took one of his hands and laid it flat on her belly, then pushed it down toward the place she needed it. Her stomach muscles pulled taut beneath his reluctant touch, and that skin was hot and satiny. She leaned upward, parting her lush pink lips in wanton invitation.
No.
It was one thing for two people to get hammered and go at each other. It was quite another when one of them had full control of his faculties and the other had none. Criminal even, and he could never take advantage of her like that. But he’d never been quite so tempted, he had to give her that much.
He pulled his hand away from hers and went to stand. She emitted some incoherent whimper that ripped at his heart, completely decimating it when the sound formed into words. “Evan, don’t leave…don’t leave me like this…please…”
No other hetero male on the planet could have endured the sight of her all disheveled in his bed, writhing and senseless and begging him to fuck her, without falling on her like a rutting animal. He should be declared saint of all the world to have lasted this long. If he hadn’t known her for all these years, he couldn’t have stopped himself.