Baddest Bad Boys(49)

“I really can’t believe he hasn’t told you,” she said and raised her brows.

He swept his gaze over the woman across from him; her tumble of golden hair, smoldering blue eyes, the smile playing over her full mouth.

A rush of pure adrenaline jerked his chain, and happy as he was for his brother, he was suddenly even happier for himself.

“I didn’t think he’d ever do it,” he said.

“Most of you get roped up sooner or later, and Hugh’s crazy about Veronica. A trip to the altar makes perfect sense.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“I didn’t think he’d ever get over you.”

4
Mac watched a flush creep up Tommi’s neck, bloom in her cheeks, and waited for her to deny his brother’s feelings, make light of them.

“Hugh and I had that out years ago,” she said.

“And?”

“We agreed to be friends. I love your brother. Just…not that way. We’re friends. Nothing more. And that works for both of us.”

“And this Reid character, what do you feel for him?”

She put her coffee down. “Why this sudden interest in my relationships?”

“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

“I thought I did answer it. Last night.”

“I’d like to hear it again. In daylight.” He wanted to be sure, because he never messed with another man’s woman.

She knit her brows, gave him a wary look. “Reid’s a thief, probably a violent one. The more distance I keep between him and me, the happier I’ll be.” She tilted her head. “So, why the questions?”

Mac had boxed himself in. He owed her an answer; he just wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Hell, he wasn’t sure he was. What he did know was that he wasn’t going to let his dick—untrustworthy at the best of times—make a fool of him. If he was going to have this woman, it would be on his terms. “Why don’t you put on some clothes? We’ll take a walk. The rain’s let up,” he gestured to the gray day outside the kitchen window, “temporarily at least.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I’m not sure you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“To talk about sex…with me.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t play the shocked ingénue. She simply rose and walked to the window, looked out for several seconds before she turned to look at him again. “You’re to the point, I’ll give you that.”

He shrugged, tried to look more at ease with this conversation than he was. “We’ve got some time to kill. And I want you.” He paused. “But I guess you’ve heard that a few hundred times.”

“Not with quite the cold-blooded approach you’ve taken.”

Mac went to stand in front of her. With one finger he touched her chin, lifted her face to his, wanting to see the depths of her eyes. “Trust me on this, sweetheart. There’s nothing cold-blooded about it.” He bent, brushed his mouth over hers. A charge shot through him, a blue-hot, thousand-volt charge—and the damn floor dropped out from under his feet. He pulled back, saw the kiss in her eyes, the dark, expectant hunger of it.

She wanted more.

He wanted more.

But not yet.

“How about that walk?” He ran his knuckles over the cream of her skin, down the line of her throat. “You’re tight as a drum.” And he knew exactly how to loosen her up.

She blinked, one of those slow, where-am-I kind of blinks, then slipped sideways, pulling the sash on her robe tight. He could span her waist with his hands. “I’ll be right back.” She headed quick-time to the stairs leading to the second floor. On the landing she stopped, frowned. “My staying here? It isn’t dependent on going to bed with you, is it?”

“No.” Why he felt insulted she’d ask, he had no idea.

“Good,” she said, “because while I’ve done a few less-than-admirable things in my life, I’ve never exchanged sex for favors. And I’m not starting now.” With that she headed up the stairs and disappeared from view.

Mac stared after her. The woman was no slouch in the straight-talking department herself. He liked that.

If he didn’t watch it, he’d start liking her.

Which wouldn’t be smart, and if he was anything, he was smart, and careful, and determined to be detached, especially when it came to his current housemate. Getting in deep—on anything but the physical level—with Tommi Smith would be nothing but trouble. When he decided to settle down with a woman, which he would sometime in the distant future, he didn’t want to worry about her having one eye on him and the other on the lookout for her next conquest.

Tommi wriggled into her jeans, did up the six fly buttons, and snuggled into a cream-colored sweater. She brushed her hair and pulled it back roughly in a tortoiseshell clip. She frowned at her white sneakers…not the best in this weather, but they’d have to do.

When she was done and she’d caught her breath, which had been untrustworthy since she’d closed the bedroom door behind herself less than ten minutes ago, she sat on the chair near the window and stared out at the misty afternoon.

That kiss…