a leg out from beneath the blanket’s overlap, she stretched, trying to reach the panties lying three feet from the bed without actually leaving it.
There was something significantly different about being naked in front of Garrett now that she knew who he was. What he was.
At risk of severe cramp, she strained further, extending her leg until finally she was able to snare the little heap of lace-edged cotton with her toes. Only just as she had them Garrett turned, one arm braced on the bed, muscles bunched thick from the weight of his torso, and cocked a curious brow at her. “What are you doing?”
“Panties.”
His brow drew down as his gaze flickered over the length of her barely concealed form, making her pull and pluck at the corners of the blanket to try and hide further beneath it.
“You really didn’t know who I was?” he asked, pushing to his feet.
“I would have run the other way. No offense,” she offered belatedly, wondering whether it was possible not to take offense.
But apparently he hadn’t. “No, that’s good.”
“Why?”
“I just didn’t like the idea of what happened tonight being some kind of conquest thing.”
She sat up straighter. “This from The Panty Whisperer?”
Garrett froze where he was, jeans pulled over his hips but the fly left open. Bare feet, bare chest, the short dark waves of his hair a tousled mess … It would have been a calendar-hot snapshot in time if not for the hard set of his jaw and narrowed eyes. “You did not just call me that.”
“Well, I mean …”
He paced the room and back. Coming to stop in front of her.
“What?” he demanded, thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans—a position that pushed them down just that extra inch in front, showing off a nearly scandalous stretch of skin. “You’re not suggesting I ‘whispered’ you out of anything?”
With a noncommittal wave she tried to bat away the question. In three years she hadn’t even been tempted by another man. And in less than one night she’d fallen flat on her back and practically begged him to follow her down. If that wasn’t some kind of freakish sexual panty magic she didn’t know what was.
FIGHTING THE STRING of obscenities rioting on the tip of his tongue, Garrett ground his molars together and pinched the bridge of his nose.
It didn’t get worse than this.
Well, that wasn’t true. It did get worse. It had been worse. Back when he’d been eighteen and his older sister’s friends had been trying to hook up with him intentionally. That had been way worse.
This, at least, was an accident.
Nikki. Hell, no wonder he’d had that bizarre sense of connection. He’d been listening to Maeve talk about her for years. He knew she’d grown up in Milwaukee, worked insane hours as an accountant at some big downtown firm, liked action movies over chick-flicks, read everything from sci-fi to biographies and that her favorite snack was peanut butter cups and corn chips. She sang along to the radio, badly, when she thought no one was listening and she didn’t date—ever.
So what the hell was she doing tumbling into bed with him? Bringing some stranger into her home?
Garrett’s stomach dropped as his feet stilled on the carpet.
It was all that talk about appreciating the simple stuff. Aw, hell. Maybe he had “whispered” her.
“Um … Garrett?”
The muscles along his spine tightened as he turned to look back and found her clutching that damn phone to her chest like some kind of security blanket.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to lie to Maeve about this.”
She thought he was worried about Maeve finding out? Not even close.
“If she teases you, you’ll just have to man up and take it.”
Man up? He laughed out loud. Nikki was definitely one of his sister’s friends, because no one else on the planet would have the gall to talk to him like that.
“I’m not worried about a little teasing.” Though he knew full well there wouldn’t be anything little about it. The teasing would be merciless, carried out by a seasoned professional he’d trained himself. But teasing he could take. It was part of the deal. You dish it, you better be able to take it.
“So what’s the problem, then?” she asked, working the thin cover until it was wrapped around her, pulled up tight to her neck.
And that was the first thing. The sight of a woman who had been so completely open to him not twenty minutes ago—bare and beautiful and unselfconscious as she panted for more, urged him on with the dig of her heels at his back and begged him not to stop. That woman—his little sister’s best friend—who hadn’t had sex in three years and for some insane reason had brought him back to her bed—was hiding awkwardly behind a blanket. That was the problem. He hated it.
Clearing his throat, he answered, “You deserve better.”
The second thing. Maybe a part of him was disappointed. Felt short-changed.
He’d thought for a moment they could have something. Obviously he wasn’t after a deep commitment or extended obligation. He needed another responsibility like he needed a hole in his head. But something light. Fun.
She’d seemed really fun. And intelligent. And just … easy in a way that had nothing to do with the kind of women he’d been scratching his itch with the past fifteen years. The kind who knew the score and weren’t after anything more than he was. A few hours. Once in a while.
Nichole had made him think about things like movies and conversation and walks and all the stuff an average joe had tried on for size back in high school or college. Not that he’d tell her all that. She didn’t need to know. Probably wouldn’t believe him anyway, considering how easily that Panty Whisperer business had rolled off her tongue.
Damn, he could only imagine all the preconceived notions she must have about him. And the truth of it was, letting her hold on to them would serve his purpose better than any of the clarifications he could make. Because she was Maeve’s best friend. Which meant all the concerns he’d never had with other women were suddenly there, front and center.
He couldn’t attempt something casual with her because he’d worry about the implications his relationship with her would have on the one she had with Maeve. On his relationship with Maeve. And even though he was looking for more than some single night score, the relationship he was ready for was about taking in the occasional sunset … not riding off into one. It was about enjoying some pleasurable company for a while … not forever.
It
