Freaking out about the whole thing, but not sorry.
For his part, Wright seemed way too calm and self-assured for her comfort. Did he not realize what they were doing? Was he not wise enough to know this was unwise?
He glanced around again, a lost expression, possibly not that self-assured after all. “I know this is a lot to process. For me too.”
Thank goodness.
“But it’s all going to be fine. I should probably get you back inside now.”
Yes, he probably should.
If Wright was another guy, and she was this attracted to him, she might ask him in. But there was no way. If anyone saw him coming inside with her this late, guilt tattooed all over their faces, tongues would start wagging. The more they wagged, the more tawdry the story would get, because that’s how things worked in a small town.
She couldn’t risk her brothers hearing secondhand, and God help her if they saw her and Wright right now.
“We’ll . . .” Wright scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”
Talking seemed like a really bad idea. As a matter of fact, all of this was awful. And amazing. “Okay.”
They stood toe to toe as the seconds ticked by. Was she supposed to hug him good night? Kiss him again? The handbook on How to End the Evening after Making Out with Your Friend didn’t exist, and it was a damn shame.
“I . . .” Wright took the smallest stutter step forward. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“No.” Wow, that’d come out way too forceful. “Sorry. I mean, no, that’d be—someone could see us. I’ll go by myself.”
“Right. Good thinking.”
She should leave now, except she couldn’t get by him. She was trapped between his big body and the Jeep.
A whimper built in her throat at the images that created.
“Oh, sorry.” He seemed to realize the issue and stepped aside.
With slow steps at first, Sophie eased by him. If she lingered too long, chances were they’d end up kissing again. Each kiss grew deeper, went on a little longer, their hands wandering a little farther. A third time and they would end up on second base.
Or was that third?
Sophie quickened her pace. Going from zero to her tongue in Wright’s mouth was enough for one night. No way could she handle his hand down her pants, brushing his fingers against her—“Dammit.” She tripped going up the front steps of the inn.
Yeah, she’d had all she could handle for one night.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Wright woke to find himself sprawled horizontally across his bed, the sheets wrapped around him like a burrito. As he attempted to untangle himself, the memory of the night before flooded back.
“Ah hell.” He flopped back on the bed.
No wonder his bedding was like a rat’s nest. Now he remembered. All night last night he’d gone back and forth between carnal dreams and horrible nightmares.
He and Sophie all over each other. Naked in his bed, on the floor, standing up, sitting down, and yes, even in the kitchen, and one particularly kinky dream involving the floating dock.
Then the relentless nightmare. Her looks of betrayal, rejection.
He was telling her about leaving Honeywilde for a new job—the locations changing from Charleston to Chicago to Asheville to LA—where he would never go.
He was pretty sure she dream-slapped him at one point.
Then there were the dreams about the other Bradleys. The big Bradleys, who could kick his ass, and would kick his ass if they thought he was fooling around with their sister.
Best friend or not, Devlin would have no qualms about tearing him a new one if he hurt Sophie.
But he would never hurt her. The sky would fall before he’d allow it.
With a groan, he rolled farther into his sheets until they engulfed him.
Technically, he’d already hurt her once before. Now . . . well, now he didn’t know where they stood, but he wasn’t going to hurt her again.
Sophie wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Last night, his blood had turned to fire, burning in his veins with the need to touch her and hold her and bring her the kind of pleasure that’d ruin her for all others. Mark her and keep her and make her his, make sure the world knew she wasn’t looking for anyone else—and none of these prehistoric reactions could be normal.
They sure as hell weren’t rational.
He banged the back of his head against the bed. He needed a harder surface, because something was seriously wrong with him.
Who thought these things? He was a modern guy, in a very forward-thinking career, and he’d been in plenty of relationships. Not once had he ever wanted to suck kisses into a woman’s skin, hard enough to see the result the next day and mark Sophie in a way they would both know.
Or even better, have Sophie do the same to him.
He shifted against his thickening cock, happily on board with the idea.
“Holy shit, you have got to get it together.” Wright unrolled from his bed burrito and slapped his face with both hands.
His body battled with his brain, and his body was leading the charge.
He’d been with Sophie through the few boyfriends she’d had. Unless he was mistaken, she probably didn’t have a ton of experience. But after last night, the way she clung to his kisses, her slender frame pressed against him, small curves making him want to whine like a stray dog, any notions of “little Soph” were gone.
He knew the woman Sophie had become. Complicated and sexy, and stronger than she realized.
Feet planted on the floor, he leaned forward with his elbows digging into his thighs. He had to talk to her, ensure every moment from last night was real and they were still on the same page.
And he needed to kiss her again. As soon as possible.
* * *
He didn’t see her all morning.
Normally, she stopped into the kitchen once or twice during or after breakfast. But not today.
He wasn’t going to let that bother him, but when lunch came and went, he was officially bothered. His job chained him to the kitchen most days, and she knew that. That was why she typically visited him. Sophie had the freedom to wander the resort.
His longest break in the day was between lunch and Honeywilde’s coffee and cookies hour, and that was the time he usually tried to get away from the place; take a walk around the lake or, on particularly busy days, sit in a quiet spot and stare off into oblivion for a few seconds.
Today he had enough time for a walk, and he used it to go in search of Sophie.
In the blazing afternoon sun, he found her arranging chairs and lounges at the lakeside with Trevor.
She had on a navy tank top and khaki shorts. Simple enough, but damn, she looked good. An enormous navy-and-white striped beach hat sheltered her fair skin from the harsh rays, big sunglasses covering her face. Trevor, on the other hand, was a tawny brown, with only a ball cap and maybe some SPF 30 for protection.
“You guys need a hand?”
Sophie straightened at the sound of his voice, turning toward him.
“Yeah, man.” Trevor was hauling two umbrellas from the tiny building where they kept the beach furniture. “Grab a few more of those umbrellas and we should be set.”
As soon as the umbrellas were up and Sophie had the plastic Adirondacks positioned exactly the way she wanted them, Trevor got fidgety.
“You need a hand with anything else here, sis? I’ve got something I’m working on that’d I’d like to get back to.”
“What are you working on?” Wright asked.
“No, you can go.” Sophie kept him from answering. “Thanks for the hand.”
With that, Trevor was nothing but a blur, leaving the beach.
“Am I not allowed to know what he’s working on? I didn’t know Trev worked independently.”
She fussed with one of the chairs again. “I don’t know what he’s working on either, but I didn’t want you encouraging him to st
ay.”
“You’re going to talk to me now instead of avoiding me like you have all morning.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
He stood, silent, and cocked an eyebrow at her.
Eventually, she glanced over. “Fine, I’ve been avoiding you. But we can’t do this here.”
Voice pitched low, he leaned forward. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Oh my god.” She held her hat and checked the area around them to see if anyone could hear.
They couldn’t.
“You can’t say things like that.”
“We say stuff like that all the time.”
“Not . . .” Another check. “Not now we can’t.”
“What do you mean, we can’t now?”
With those huge sunglasses, he couldn’t tell if she was looking at him or through him, couldn’t read her expression or even fathom a guess as to what she was trying to say.
“Come on.” He took her hand and started walking.
“Where are we going? You can’t hold my hand like that.”
“No one out here cares. We’re only going right here.” He led her inside the small storage building.
A stack of plastic chairs and extra umbrellas still filled one side of the building. Inside was dark and stuffy, the only light coming from the open door, but he needed a place where he could talk to her. Immediately.
“You’ve been avoiding me all day.”
“No, I haven’t.”
He gave her a blank-faced stare. “Before we fought, I’d see you two or three times a morning.”
“I’ve been busy today.”
“You’re busy every day. You’re the busiest person at Honeywilde, and you’d still manage to pop into the kitchen. I thought you would again since—”
“We kissed.”
“Exactly.”
“No, I mean we kissed, Wright. You and I. Twice. I . . .” She jerked the sunglasses off her face and looked around the cramped building. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
He knew exactly what to do. Kiss again, and again and again. “It felt like a lot more than a kiss.”
Her hand went to her forehead, knocking her hat off balance as she rubbed. “I know, and that’s why . . .”
“Why what? I’m not dating anyone anymore. You’re not dating that shit heel either. Why shouldn’t we kiss?”
Even in the dark, he could make out her eyes going bigger and rounder than soup bowls, her voice shrill and a little manic. “Why not? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Easy.” He moved her away from the door. “You’re going to have guests running in here to save a dying cat.”
She grabbed his arm. “Be serious. You know exactly why, whether we’re dating other people or not. We can’t just start dating or hooking up.”
Okay, so they weren’t on the same page.
“My family is finally getting along. Business is going well and my brothers aren’t at each other’s throats. Things are copacetic. Peaceful. Do you realize we’ve had zero drama—I mean, besides you and me not speaking—almost all summer? That’s an entire season. That’s a huge deal in this family.”
“I know, but—”
“And the last Honeywilde drama was when I wasn’t speaking to you and Dev held an inquisition after the Blueberry Festival as to why.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I made something up. Doesn’t matter. What matters is, if Dev found out his best friend and baby sister were fooling around, at best, he’d be disturbed. At worst, he’d be furious. He’s finally happy. Our Devlin. Happy.”
Shit. If anyone knew how hard Dev had to fight for happiness, it was Wright. “But what if the two of us being together made him happy?”
Sophie snorted. “You didn’t invite me to cotillion, Wright. Knowing we made out in the kitchen and the parking lot of a bar isn’t going to make any of my brothers happy.”
“Shit.” She had a point. “Then I could ask you out proper. Do this the right way.”
“And the two of us will date under the scrutiny of my entire family? Every day, my brothers watching you like hawks? Three big, annoyed hawks? Wondering how long you’ve had your eye on me? What you’re up to and whether or not you’re going to dump me like you did Kate?”
Wright’s mouth fell open. “You know I wouldn’t do that. I dumped her because . . .”
Sophie gazed up at him, her hat askew, lightly freckled shoulders on display in the tank top. Damn, he loved those freckles, especially with her skin flushed from the heat and exertion of working by the lake.
“I dumped her because I kissed you.”
Her expression softened. “I know. But do you want to explain to Dev about how you kissed me when you had a girlfriend? Because I don’t.”
Wright bit back another curse. “No.”
Nothing could stop his desire to kiss her again. Take her into his arms and feel the gentle give of her lips, the small curves of her body.
“So what do we do? Never touch each other again, when that’s all I can think about?” He took a step closer, and her eyebrows rose, her expression shifting away from the wry look to something expectant.
“Kissing you. Kissing you other places. Everywhere.”
With her lips pinched together, she glanced away. “Wright.”
“No one can hear me. Stop worrying. Last night was wonderful.”
“I know, but . . .”
“But what?”
“But if we do that again, and it leads to . . .” She gave him a pointed look.
Everything within him screamed Yes! He wanted their kissing to lead exactly there. Sex and more sex and Sophie being his. If she didn’t want to rock the apple cart now that Honeywilde and the Bradley family were finally a balanced bunch, fine. He could live with not bumping up against her brothers for the time being.
“Who says your brothers have to know what we do?” The question was out of his mouth before he could catch it.
Sophie gasped and his mouth fell open too. He was equally shocked he’d suggested it.
“Are you suggesting we hide this from my family?”
“Technically, what we do isn’t their business unless you want it to be. Dev didn’t tell us he was with Anna. So this is your call. If you want to tell them, I’m in. I’ll deal with the scrutiny. I’ll go tell your brothers right now.”
“No!” Sophie pinched her lips together again.
“Then we don’t have to say a word to them.”
“But . . . it feels wrong to lie. Doesn’t that mean we’re wrong?”
He could see where this was going. Sophie was a soft heart. Always had been. The last thing she’d ever want was to hurt or disappoint anyone. She was a pleaser, going above and beyond to make her family happy, even if it meant putting herself last.
And they were treading into what many thought was questionable territory: attraction and sexual interest for someone who was once a platonic friend.
Especially when that friend was his best friend’s sister.
Now that he’d accepted his desire for Sophie, there were plenty of times in the past when he should’ve known.
Two years ago, during a long, hot summer like this one, he and Dev had taken a day off. Dev had already stopped drinking by then and gone on to bed, but Wright didn’t want to go home. He’d pilfered the bar for beer and sat on the verandah.
Sophie had flopped down next to him and taken his beer. She gave it back after a sip or two, but it tasted like beer and citrus-flavored ChapStick.
He should’ve been disgusted at the fruit flavor disrupting his perfectly good beer. Instead, he’d shifted in his seat, his dick twitching in interest about what she’d taste like if he kissed her. But because sometimes he was a horny guy, like anybody else, he’d written it off.
Then he’d damned himself for having impure thoughts about the Bradley baby sister, and drunk half his beer to put out the fire and brimstone.
Sophie had lingered, griping
about something or other with the staff. A cool breeze blew across the verandah and he’d tried not to notice, but her nipples pebbled against the cotton of her shirt, just enough to see.
He’d jerked his gaze away and told himself boobs were boobs and they were all attractive. He was a hot-blooded, heterosexual male. How could he not notice?
She kept talking and making him laugh with her impressions of her brothers, and he didn’t want to leave. Two more beers borrowed from the bar, and he got her to stay. Together, they complained about almost every single person they worked with, and a few of the folks in town, laughing until his sides hurt.
When she did finally leave, he craved her company. He saw her every day, talked to her all the time, and still he wanted more.
He didn’t want Sophie. He liked her. At least, that’s what he’d told himself at the time.
Now he was done fighting his desire. He liked her and he wanted her.
Sophie fiddled with the sunglasses in her hand and shrugged. “I don’t know, but if I feel this guilty about last night, then maybe we shouldn’t do it.” Her statement was a plea, her gaze longing for answers.
He only had one answer, and it wasn’t going to change.
Even as she questioned everything they were doing, she took a step toward him, not away. “We should stop, right?”
He closed the gap between them in one step. “Wrong.”
Chapter 7
Wright cupped her face with both hands and kissed her. With more pressure and purpose than ever before, like he was making a statement, he molded their lips together and she fell in.
Headfirst, she fell into kissing him, grabbing his bent arms, sliding her hands up until the tips of her fingers went underneath the short sleeves of his shirt. His skin was hot from the sun and smooth. She’d seen Wright’s arms a million times, at least half of those times with some kind of pervy thought, but now she’d never be able to look at them with any other kind of thought.
Hard muscle, the rise and fall making a perfect arc, and even though it was a little more than her hands could hold on to, trying to get a good grip was half the fun.
Wright deepened the kiss and she opened to him, all her talk about why they shouldn’t do this, couldn’t do this, falling away and rolling across the sandy lakeside. He swept his tongue against hers, gentle sucking pulls against her lips before he rained kisses along her jaw, his hands smoothing down her neck to her collarbone.
A Taste of Temptation Page 7