by Lori Foster
A complex question—but he chose to answer it simply. “You. Tonight and tomorrow.” After that, who knew?
Something shifted in her eyes, there and gone before he could decipher it. Her smile slipped into place, and she nodded. “Okay, sure, that works. But...Denver’s fight is next weekend, and then Thanksgiving is after that. Neither of those were part of our agreement, and they go way beyond tomorrow, so I’m not sure—”
Warm and soft, Stack pressed another kiss to her parted lips. “Quit keeping score, okay? Let’s just play it by ear instead of sticking to rules that never made sense in the first place.”
“Hey.” She playfully swatted at him. “My rules are what got me a date to the wedding.”
“No strings attached, I know. I was an ass.”
Clutching her heart, she pretended to faint. “You admitted it!”
Now it was his turn to swat her—and he did. Reaching around her, he landed a perfect smack to her ass.
Yelping, she bounced forward and against him. “Hey! That stung.”
Nowhere near contrite, he rubbed the lush spot with his palm. “Mmm. Want me to kiss it to make it better?”
“I do.” Before his gonads could celebrate, she sighed. “But I have to paint tonight. If I don’t, I won’t get things done by the deadline on Wednesday.”
“Tomorrow?”
Her gaze searched his. “I plan to finish painting in the morning, then I’m working at the resale shop a few hours. I’ll take the dogs with me—I think they’ll like that. But afterward I’ll have to run them back home, and then it’s my night at the rec center.”
From what he knew of her, she never missed her exercise. “How about I hang around after I finish my workout, and I’ll see you there?”
She visibly thought through several scenarios before pulling his mouth down to hers. “Hang around, and you could come home with me afterward.”
Finally. He’d started to think she’d keep putting him off with one commitment after another. He wasn’t insecure, and he didn’t need her to put him above other obligations—but he needed to know he wasn’t in this alone.
“Sounds like a plan.” Her lips were so soft under his. God, he loved her mouth. No more getting carried away on the street in front of his sister’s apartment. Wasn’t easy, but Stack pulled back. “Okay if I stay the night?”
Happiness brightened her smile. “It’d be awesome if you did.”
Now that was a reaction he could get into. “Awesome, huh? I promise to do my best.”
Her arms went around his neck, and she hugged him tight. “Stack?”
“Yeah?”
“Whitney is the reason you despise Phil, isn’t she?”
Well, hell. What a way to blindside a guy. First she got him thinking about tomorrow and sex, and then she threw out the tricky questions about the ex.
Taking a step back from her, physically and emotionally, Stack gave her a partial truth. “Phil is a lazy, unemployed, self-centered pothead who would use his own mother to keep from doing an honest day’s work or having to face his own responsibilities.”
Vanity nodded. “It’s your mother he takes advantage of, using her love for Tabby against her. I get that.”
Stack couldn’t hide his surprise at her perception, or her unfettered leap into his family’s private business.
Not bothering to temper his tone, he gave a cynical smile and said, “So on top of being sexy, you’re observant as hell. A nice combo.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “I’m observant enough to see that something happened between Phil and Whitney. And, given how she tried to sex you up in the kitchen, I assume she’s—”
“Sex me up?” Stack didn’t mean to, but he grinned.
She cocked a brow. “If we weren’t being watched, I’d slug you for laughing at me.”
If we weren’t being watched. Reality hit like ice water, and he turned his head to see Whitney at the glass entry doors to the apartment building, staring at them both.
No doubt plotting a way to get him back in her bed.
The ice water settled into his veins. “Ignore her.”
“Oh, my God.” Flattening her mouth, Vanity accused, “You’re still hung up on her.”
Lacking any humor, he laughed. “No.” He’d never been hung up on Whitney, but she had dented his pride. What he found most unforgiveable? How she’d fooled him. How he’d ended up feeling like an ass.
She let out a tense breath. “Well...good.”
Stack chucked her under her chin. “That reminds me. I appreciated your show of clinging worship. But if your intent was to scare her off, it didn’t work. In fact, I think she feels challenged.”
Vanity’s eyes turned watchful. “Not that it will do her any good.”
“No good at all,” he assured her. And still, Vanity studied him so long, he considered kissing her again to break her concentration.
“Okay.” She finally accepted that with a nod. “So maybe you aren’t still in love with her, but—”
“I was never in love with her.” To keep her from digging further, he partially explained. “Whitney and I were seeing each other until I dropped in on her one day and found Phil there. They both claimed he was only selling her pot. Doesn’t matter to me if she was buying from him or fucking him, neither is acceptable. She lied to me. End of story.”
Vanity bit her lip, looked away, but then squared her shoulders and faced him again. “That’s when you started hating Phil?”
“I disliked and distrusted the prick long before that. My sister could do better, if not for herself, then at least so she could stop dragging my mom down all the time.”
Vanity tipped her head. “What else happened?”
Stack looked up at the dark sky. “It’s getting late and you said you had work to do. There’s no reason to keep rehashing old news.”
Without argument she let him off the hook. “Okay.”
That shouldn’t have surprised Stack; she’d said from the start that she wouldn’t pry. He glanced at the dogs. “You’re okay with them still?”
“They’re awesome.”
Great. So he and the dogs now ranked the same.
Without admitting she was cold, Vanity stepped in closer to steal his heat. After a few seconds, she said, “I know you don’t like lies.”
New alertness surged into his veins. “No, I don’t.” Wondering what she was up to now, he put his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. “Did you lie to me, darlin’?”
“You don’t have to use that silky voice on me.”
Silky voice? The things she said... “I didn’t—”
“I did lie,” she blurted, making him go rigid.
He tipped up her chin. “About?”
“Lynn said I could return the dogs to her.” She snuggled back in, her face to his neck. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told her that you insisted she have at least a week to get rested up.”
That was it? “I do insist.”
He felt her smile against his throat. “Good, then I didn’t fib after all.”
It was ridiculous to keep her standing there in the brisk night air. But he wasn’t ready to let her go.
“Stack?”
“Hmm?”
She leaned away to make eye contact. “I won’t pry. I promise.”
“Thanks.”
“But...”
There were always buts. He waited.
“If you’re lingering so you can talk to Whitney again, you can just tell me to go. Since we don’t have any type of agreement—”
“Wrong.” Damn, how did she so easily get him twisted up? “The original agreement is gone. Now we have a new agreement.”
“A new one?”
Damn right. And soon as he figured it out, he’d explain it to her.
Eyes wider, she said, “But—”
Stack put his mouth over hers, kissed her quiet and then softly admitted, “I’m lingering because I wasn’t ready to let you go.”
&n
bsp; She didn’t look spooked by his possessive admission. Actually, she looked really pleased.
A good time to state his intentions. “New agreement—when you have free time, you save it for me.”
Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t seeing anyone else right now anyway. Were you?”
“No.” With Vanity around, how could he even think of another woman? “You’re it.”
She looked startled by that bold statement. You’re it. True enough for him, but would it scare her off?
Showing uncertainty, she licked her lips and spent far too long thinking about it. “Sooo...neither of us will mix it up?”
“Right.” Truthfully, he couldn’t bear the thought of any other man touching her.
It irked that she tacked on, “For as long as it lasts?”
He’d make it last as long as he needed. “Fine.”
Vanity gave it quick consideration. “Fine.”
He started to exhale in relief.
“But I have a stipulation.”
Damn. “Let’s hear it.”
“A onetime thing would be no big deal. Anything more could get awkward if we let it. So promise me now, when it ends, it ends. No blame and no hard feelings.”
So she already expected it to end? Until she said it, he had, too. With his career on the fast track, he didn’t want to complicate things with a time-sucking committed relationship. But all the same, he didn’t like having it spelled out. “You do seem to have a thing for stating the rules up-front.”
She gave him a stern look. “I relocated all the way from California. Your friends are, for the most part, my only friends, too. I don’t want there to be a falling-out.”
Like a knockout blow, it hit him. Vanity had lost her entire family, then followed her best friend to Ohio. She and Yvette were close, he and Cannon were close. Vanity didn’t want to risk losing anyone else, not for any reason.
Definitely not for a fling with him.
With a lot to think about, Stack opened her car door and waited for her to get in. Once she’d fastened her seat belt, he leaned down, cupped her face and took one more taste to last him through the night. “No awkwardness, I promise.” How the hell he’d keep that promise, he didn’t know. But he knew he wouldn’t let her be hurt, so if it came to that, he’d work it out. Somehow. “If you need help with the dogs, let me know.”
“I won’t.”
Always unexpected confusion from Vanity. “Won’t need help, or won’t let me know?”
She smiled. “Either.” She started up her car, looked him over again, and said with ripe anticipation, “Tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow.” He closed her door, stepped back, and watched her pull away.
Before Vanity had even reached the next block, Whitney started toward him. Cold inside and out, Stack took in her leggy, swingy stride—then turned his back on her and went to his own car.
“Stack!”
He wouldn’t reply. She had nothing to say that he wanted to hear.
“Stack, please. Talk to me. Let me explain.”
For a single heartbeat he hesitated, curious as to what excuse she’d give for showing up here, now. He had a feeling Phil had manipulated things. He wondered why. But he wasn’t an idiot.
Vanity might act cool about him “carrying on,” as she’d once put it. But he knew women better than that.
They’d clicked, and for right now, he didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat. What he wanted was Vanity. Again. Repeatedly. And he wanted to hear more about her work, the loss of family members.
He wanted to discover all the different facets to her personality, because so far what he’d seen had been pretty impressive.
Whitney had almost reached his car when he pulled away—leaving her without a backward glance.
He thought only about tomorrow. About Vanity.
About the fact that she was slowly reeling him in, and she didn’t appear to be trying. More unsettling than that—he enjoyed her efforts.
CHAPTER TEN
THE LIGHT TAP sounded on her door just as she poured her third cup of coffee. Blowing over the top to cool it, she padded barefoot to the front room, peeked out the window, and saw Stack wearing a big sweatshirt, jogging pants and running shoes.
The chilly morning fogged his every breath, and he had this small, sexy, maybe anticipatory smile on his mouth.
The accelerating of her heartbeat made it tough to keep it cool, but she opened the door with a casual, “Hey, Stack. I wasn’t expecting you.”
He pressed in without an invitation, closed the door, took her mug from her, and then took her mouth.
Yup, anticipation. Had he missed her? She hoped so, because she’d sure missed him. Long into the night she’d thought about him, about him with Whitney, about his reaction if he ever learned of her machinations.
The lingering kiss swept away her worries.
God, he was better than the coffee, delivering a stronger jolt than caffeine ever could.
With small nibbling kisses, he eased away. “I needed that.”
Eyes still closed, she nodded. “Mmm. Me, too.”
The smile sounded in his tone when he whispered, “Hi.”
She struggled to ground herself. “Okay. I could get used to that.”
“To unexpected visitors?”
Her eyes felt heavy as she got them open. “To morning kisses.”
Bringing his brows together, he said, “You want to clarify that as per our understanding last night?”
Lifting a brow, she showed her confusion.
“Morning kisses from...?”
“Oh.” She leaned in and hugged him. “I could get used to hot morning kissing from a hotter fighter—”
He reached as if to smack her butt again.
Laughing, her bottom now covered with both of her hands, she blurted, “A hot fighter named Stack Hannigan!”
He grinned with her. “There you go.” Then he pointed to his mouth. “One more?”
“With pleasure.” She slipped her arms around his neck and teased, catching his bottom lip in her teeth, then licking his upper lip, and lastly angling her head to taste him deeply.
He growled, held her with one arm, and took over.
She was about to drag him to the floor when he said, “Much more of that and I’ll spill your coffee.”
Oh, yeah, she’d forgotten all about it.
He looked her over and smiled. “Cute.”
“What?”
“The messy hair, flannel pants, naked toes and paint on your cheek.” Between his fingers, he rubbed a hank of hair that had fallen from her hasty updo. “It’ll wash out?”
“Hmm?” She pulled the thick lock of hair out to see it, and grimaced at the blue paint with flecks of yellow and amber. Quickly she tucked it behind her ear. “It will, yes.”
“Toes aren’t cold?”
“A little. I was downstairs painting but left my slippers at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Got paint on them, too, huh?”
His grin charmed her. “Maybe.” When she painted, she tended to get it everywhere. Luckily she also had a shower in the basement, and a utility tub for cleaning her brushes.
“I especially like this camisole.” Bold as you please, Stack traced one finger around her nipple, sending a shiver all the way to her core.
Returning to reality, she inhaled sharply and stepped out of reach. “Did you come by just to warm me up, or for another reason?”
“Since you said you’d be working, I figured I’d take the dogs for a jog.” Wearing a curious frown, he glanced beyond her. “Where are they?”
Uh-oh. Heat flashed to her face, making her warmer still. “Um...” Somehow she just knew he would end up irked. “See, I was painting and they were great, except that they kept wanting in and out, so when Leese called—”
With no inflection whatsoever—which sort of made it worse—he restated, “Leese called you.”
Fascinating how his eyes darkened to gray-blue. S
he nodded. “Remember, he and I are friends.”
He started around her for the kitchen—looking for Leese?
Vanity hurried after him. “He had the same idea as you! They’re all out jogging.”
Stopping abruptly, Stack kept his back to her. The set of his shoulders, his spine, showed his displeasure.
And still Vanity soaked up the sight of him.
Bright morning sunshine poured through the window, showing the blond highlights in his brown hair, caressing the breadth of those amazing shoulders.
She paused right behind him. “I’m not interested in Leese. Not that way.”
“What way is that?”
She stepped closer to his back, slid her hands under his loose sweatshirt, up his bare sides, then crisscrossed them over his chest. She rested her cheek against him. “The way I’m interested in you.”
His head tipped back. “Sexually.”
“That, yes.” She trailed one hand down, over those lust-inspiring abs that tightened even more with her touch, then lower still.
“Vanity,” he warned in a voice turned to gravel.
But he made no attempt to stop her.
Through the soft material of his jogging pants, she cupped his testicles, felt him stiffen—pretty much all over—and lightly fondled him. “I have no interest in Leese other than as a friend. But with you... I hope it doesn’t scare you off, but everything about you interests me.”
After drawing three quick breaths, he retrieved her hand from his pants and turned to face her. He kept his gaze steady, his expression impassive.
She couldn’t read his mood, and that worried her.
“If you needed help with the dogs, you should have called me. Not another man, Vanity. Me.”
Tricky. She licked her lips as she considered how to explain without irritating him more. “The thing is, I didn’t call Leese, he called me.”
His jaw worked, his right eye ticked. “He shouldn’t have.”
Indignation chased off her concern. Much as she loved Stack, much as she hoped for a forever kind of relationship with him, there were certain things she wouldn’t allow. “I want you, Stack. A lot.”
He didn’t book, and he didn’t look alarmed by that declaration. In fact, the slight easing at the corners of his mouth encouraged her.