NICE GIRL TO LOVE (THE COMPLETE THREE-BOOK COLLECTION)(4)

“That you’d have to dust off the ole grammar knowledge you ‘misplaced’ to attempt to help him with his homework?” ribbed Abby.

Connor blinked. Seriously, who was this woman?

Jim chortled heartily. “You caught me. Thank God for well-written paralegals and first-years.”

“Hence my stand on standardizing a more rigorous business and technical writing curriculum in core education.” Abby threw an I-told-you-so grin over at Brian. “Brian, this is James Holt, one of the greatest legal minds in the city…well, next to your father and brother of course. James, this is Brian Sullivan of those Sullivans,” she editorialized behind an impishly cupped hand. “He’s the rebel son who chose the career path of teaching business economics over lawyering.”

Brian and Hank shook hands and immediately launched into conversation over current commerce affairs.

Never had Connor felt so invisible.

“You can get back to your party now,” said Abby in a conspiratorial tone. “No worries, I’ll keep an eye on Brian for you tonight.”

The innocuous words hit him like a bucket of ice on his lap, shriveling his growing interest in the woman right up.

Reality check, jackass—she was Brian’s date.

Brian’s smart, captivating, completely off-limits date.

He took a blatant step away from the all too fascinating brunette and fumbled for a recovery, “I, uh…thanks. For taking care of it for me. Him, not it...Brian, that is.” Rendered idiotic by the amused, utterly female smile curving her plump lips, he finished lamely, “You’re good for him.”

“Thanks, Connor. I’ve always thought the same of you.”

Lord, he could listen to the way she said his name all day, her husky teacher voice an inspiration for instant fantasies of the lusty sex-in-the-classroom variety.

Yep, he had to get the hell away from her. Fast.

“You’re right, I should return to my guests. It’s been a pleasure, Abby. Enjoy your evening.” With that and a cursory nod, he excused himself like a bat out of hell, waiting until he was safely at the other end of the room before allowing himself one final glance back.

Just in time to see Brian whispering in her ear, of course.




“YOU WERE GETTING READY to hit on Victoria.”

“What?! No!”

Abby snickered at the degree of horror in Brian’s voice as she recounted the party events from two nights prior. “Yup. It was a close call, too. I got you out of your brother’s house when you started saying how hot she was.” She tsked into the phone. “I told you all that expensive liquor Connor keeps would sneak up on you harder than the cheap stuff we drink.”

“Still. Victoria?”

She could almost hear him shuddering.

“Good god, I’m glad you saved me when you did. I knew it’d be a good idea to bring you to that party.”

“Except now Connor thinks you and I are dating.”

“So what if he does?” queried Brian indifferently. “Maybe now he’ll stop giving me those pitying looks he thinks I don’t see. You don’t mind playing along, do you?”

She thought about it for a second. “No, I guess not. I only see the man every few years or so.” And he evidently only remembers me every ten.

The pity party from that depressing fact was quickly broken up by the blaring school bell over the phone line. She checked the time. “Is that the end of lunch for you?”

“Yeah, but I have a prep period next.”

“Nice. So, how’s the first day going so far?”

“Great if you don’t count how many rabid alpha students I have again this year,” he grumbled, though affectionately. “I swear, some of these kids think they’re getting their MBAs. If their term projects weren’t coincidentally due right before winter ball and prom, I’m pretty sure they’d turn in fifty-page papers.”

Coincidence. Sure. If she had a penny for every time she’d had to help him grade papers at the last minute, she’d be loaded. Though a brilliant teacher, Brian had astonishingly little regard for assessments.

“Oh hey, speaking of school dances.” Abby grinned finkishly. “I hear Skylar can look forward to her first one in the spring. You freaking out yet?”

Brian groaned. “Don’t remind me. My blood pressure is not ready for a preteen daughter going to a dance with boys. Did she call you specifically to complain about my lack of joy in all this?”

“Actually she told me when I was over there yesterday.”

“You came over?”

“During the four hours you slept off your hangover, yes.”

“Ah, that solves the case of the missing dirty dishes.”

“Guilty. Oh, and I tasted the culinary genius you made her before you went back to bed by the way. I thought the Cajun flavored eggs had a superb crunch.”

“Why, thanks. Charred shell bits give it an extra zing, I think.”

“Not to mention added protein, too…which went well with the waffles I made her.”

He sighed. “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

“Often. Why just the other night, I recall at least a dozen instances. The fact that they were all localized to my chest area as I dragged your drunk butt into your house didn’t diminish the heartfelt sentiment behind the words one bit.”