Falling for the Good Guy (Can't Resist #2)(6)

But that was nothing compared to the effect his eyes had on her. On all women, undoubtedly. Where Connor's were a piercing ice blue always deep in thought, Brian's were warmer, earthier, always rich with affection. The startling color of the ocean, his eyes had a depth of conquered pain that just sucked you in, made it difficult to look away. And if ever you caught those eyes smiling at his daughter, the fierce protectiveness and sheer determination for hope where his had clearly been through the ringer made it impossible not to get emotionally invested, inspired.

Captivated.

Made it impossible not to want to love him with every inch of your soul.

Abby didn’t know when her feet had walked her over to the couch, or why her eyes were now running along the lines of his body in a way she’d denied herself for as long as she’d known him, but here she was. How did this happen? How could her reaction to Brian be this different after just one night, one kiss? The way her skin tingled now at the mere thought of his name was pitching her toward a minor panic attack. She could hardly breathe.

“You’re going to give me a big head if you keep staring at me like that.”

She gasped as one of Brian’s thickly muscled, sleep-warmed arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her down on top of him. Abby hesitated for a brief second before eventually letting him pull her in the rest of the way for a head-to-toe good morning hug.

If she were being totally honest with herself, she’d always adored the feel of Brian’s massive arms wrapped around her in one of his ‘I’m here for you’ python squeezes. It was addicting, as was the way he’d hold her close whenever she’d fall asleep on him during a DVD.

Now feeling his arms around her when they weren’t both upright...this was a whole new kind of addicting.

When she opened her eyes—funny, she didn’t remember closing them—she saw Brian looking at her with a sleepy combination of humor and hunger. “Why are you tiptoeing around me today, woman? I was expecting my usual pillow in the face wake-up call.”

Sugarplums, had his voice always sounded this sexy? She averted her eyes…which ended up being a lateral move as she was now staring directly at his chest. “I was giving you a few extra minutes; you looked more tired than usual,” she mumbled into one hard pec. All mostly true. “Didn’t you sleep well last night?”

She could feel him smiling against her temple. “Not exactly.”

Frowning, she tipped her head back and looked at him in concern. “But you always sleep like a coma patient on this sofa.”

“The sofa was fine. I, on the other hand, was less so.” He dragged his fingers through her hair in long strokes. As if he were petting a cat.

She almost purred. “Wh-why?” A fully enunciated word. And in a near-normal tone with barely even a stutter. She was so proud of herself.

“Let’s just say I was a little…uncomfortable,” he murmured, shifting over so she could stop imitating a human blanket and instead wedge herself between him and the backrest of the couch.

Another lateral move.

“You should‘ve told me. I would’ve had you sleep in my bed—”

“Do tell,” he teased, deliberately making that innocent sentence sound dirty.

Abby felt her cheeks burn. “I meant I would’ve slept out here.”

“Spoilsport.” He grazed a knuckle over her hot skin. “And like I said, that’s not the kind of ‘discomfort’ that was keeping me up.”

“Oh.” She dragged a corner of the quilt draped at his waist up to cover her face. Or did smothering only work on extinguishing cooking fires? Everything he was saying was simply more kindling to the most dangerous kind of fire. “Brian, I appreciate the effort,” she mumbled from under the quilt, “but truly, you don’t have to work this hard to help me get over Connor.”

Before she could so much as yelp, she went from being simply wedged to being thoroughly hot-dogged—a more apt description here than sandwiched—with a very intense-looking Brian launching a now full-body interrogation of her every reaction to him. From the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his, to the way her fingers instantly flexed into his obliques when his fingertips skimmed over her shoulder blades, she could see the fireburst of sea green around his pupils flare with every new bit of damning data her body revealed to him.

“Is that all you think this is, Abby? Don’t you feel what’s happening between us?”

She felt something alright. And she was trying her damndest not to move her hips at all lest she wake it up even more.

Something in her expression must have given her thoughts away.

With an incredulous headshake, Brian let out a low, throaty chuckle. “I’d ask you what you were thinking just now but I’m not sure I could handle it.”

Honestly, she wasn’t too certain she could handle it either. The saying about big hands? Apparently very, very true…

“Sweetheart, I’ll give you exactly two seconds to come back to me or else I’m going in after you,” he warned, gripping the couch cushion in a way that belied the smile in his voice.

Who knew watching a man’s forearms flex at close range could this mesmerizing?

“And…time.”

“I’m back, I’m back!” she exclaimed, yanking her gaze back up to meet his.