Instant Temptation (Wilder #3)(49)

She blinked and found Nolan’s face peering into her own, a bemused smile on his lips. “Yes, why?”

“You look like you’re thinking way too hard.”

“Nope. Not thinking.” She closed her eyes. “Mind’s empty. Carry on.” She sensed his smile. To help him along, she leaned into him, lips puckered as she wondered—did he kiss good? With tongue? Without?

Or worse, with too much tongue. Her eyes flew open, and she found his lips nearly touching hers. “Oh!

Sorry! Um, would you like some water? I’m really dry, I think I need some water.”

He opened his eyes. He didn’t sigh, but he looked like he was thinking about it. “I’m fine, thanks. Harley—”

“Hang on.” She whirled into the kitchen, moved to the cupboard for a glass, and set her forehead against the wood. What was that? You can do this, she told herself. You can be attracted to someone other than TJ. You can be attracted to Nolan. You were only a few days ago.

“Harley.”

Almost yelping in surprise at the sound of him just behind her, she straightened and filled her glass at the sink. When she turned, Nolan was leaning back against the fridge, once again studying her with that slightly bemused expression.

She realized she caused that expression in men a lot.

“Better?” he asked as she drank.

“Much.”

Nodding, he came close again, his intent in his deep blue eyes.

Okay, Harley, this is your chance. A nice man. A good man. A long-term, happily-ever-after man. She let him take the glass from her, which he set in the sink. See, he’s neat, too, she told herself as he shifted closer, his eyes lit with pleasure, and then—and then the alien within her lifted her hand between them, halting his progress. “I forgot to get my mail today.”

He went still for a beat, then blinked. “And…you need to get it right now?”

Her heart was suddenly thundering. “Um…no. That would be silly.” She gripped his shirt and forcibly pulled him in. His hands went to her hips and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Nolan?”

Again he stopped, his eyes suddenly flashing with both wry humor and resignment. “Are you thirsty again?”

“No,” she whispered miserably. “Worse.”

His smile faded but he remained gentle as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Harley.”

“No, it’s not.” She closed her eyes, then felt the sweet press of his mouth on her forehead. “I’m sorry,”

she whispered.

“You can’t fake chemistry,” he said.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

He let out a soft, regretful laugh at the clichéd line, and she winced. “I mean—”

“I know.”

“God, I’m such a jerk.”

“No,” he said. “You’ve clearly got your mind on something else. Or someone else.” He paused thoughtfully at her grimace. “I heard you had a long two nights out there in Desolation.”

“Yes.”

“And that TJ Wilder was your guide.”

She grimaced again. “Not guide, exactly.”

“Ah.” He let out another low laugh, this one mirthless, as he nodded, not looking thrilled. “So it is a someone.”

Dammit. “I don’t want there to be, trust me.” But unfortunately, her head and her heart were two very different beasts, with two very different tastes. “I’m really so very sorry.”

He opened his mouth just as Skye bounded in from outside. “Hi honey, I’m home!” she yelled, shutting the door, not yet looking into the kitchen. “I heard you and TJ Wilder had a romp worthy of his last name. It’s all over town that—” She turned, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the sight of Nolan. Smile frozen, she gave him a little finger waggle. “Hi, Cute Stuff. Has Harley ever told you that I have a drinking problem? I’m coming off a three-day bender as we speak.”

“Skye,” Harley murmured.

Nolan looked like he was thinking about smiling. “It’s okay, Skye. I was dumped before you got in the front door.”

“Dumped?” Skye looked at Harley and raised a curious brow. “Interesting.”

Nolan made to leave, but Harley grabbed his hand. “Nolan—”

“It’s okay, Harley. No hard feelings.”

Well maybe he didn’t have hard feelings, but she sure as hell did. This was TJ and his magic fingers’

fault. If he hadn’t given her that orgasm, she’d have been fine. Fine.

Okay, so it wasn’t TJ’s fault, but she wanted someone to blame. She supposed she should grow up and look in the mirror. “I want you to know, Nolan, that whatever you heard isn’t true.” Well, unless he heard that she’d crawled into TJ’s sleeping bag and let him—oh, God. “Most of it anyway.”

“Harley,” he said with terrifying kindness. “It’s okay to stop talking.”

Right. Miserable, she nodded. And when the door closed behind him, she turned to Skye, who lifted her hands in surrender.

“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” Skye said. “You can’t shoot the messenger.”

“Wanna bet?”