Resisting the Bad Boy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE)

by Duke, Violet

  “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.”

  “Shit.” The horror returned to his voice. “Okay, that’s it, no more of the devil’s juice for me. I clearly can’t handle the stuff.”

  She gasped in mock alarm. “You mean our MMA fight nights will be limited to pizza and soda?”

  He paused. “Good point. I guess I’ll have to keep beer on the list of acceptable beverages. Just for you.”

  “Aw, you’re so good to me,” she chuckled as she checked the time again. “Shoot, I better get going. I’m meeting with a few teachers about expanding my tutoring roster this year.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to start volunteering until September,” he admonished sternly. “Abby, you can’t keep putting off your dissertation. Those kids can get by without you.”

  “Just setting things up, I promise. Fear not, I’m sticking to my plan. Just me and my laptop ‘til I go back to work next month.”

  “Good. I already instructed Skylar to gather her friends and chase you out of school if you show up over the next three weeks. We also blacked out every day on the calendar until ASU is back in session to remind us to leave you alone.”

  “No need to go that far. I won’t be writing the entire time. And since my teaching line is straight freshman comp again this semester, I’m all set with my syllabus and lesson plans already. I’m sure I’ll have pockets of time to hang out here and there.”

  “Well, then you can go get reacquainted with your colleagues and the other equally brainy candidates in your program. Go get all academic again. Skylar and I have been monopolizing your time way too much lately. If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself in front of your doctoral defense panel dropping Skylar’s OMGs and my far more delightful f-bombs.”

  Oy, her professors would think she was having a seizure and send her back to pre-dissertation comp exams for sure.

  “Besides,” he continued, “we’ve already begun the detox process to do without our Abby fix for a few weeks. Sure, we’ll be strung out since you’ve gotten us all addicted to your greatness, but we’ll be fine,” he assured softly. “Really.”

  A wash of tears stung her eyes. “Okay. Well you tell Skylar I’m never too busy for her. Or her dad.”

  “Sure thing.” The awkward pause that followed had him quickly clearing his throat. “Alright, my prep period’s almost up so I better finish eating. Happy writing, babe.”

  Abby hung up the phone with a pinch of sadness. Three whole weeks without talking to Brian on a daily basis?

  Huh.

  Ten-to-one odds he’ll crack first.

  Abby eyed the ominous black clouds that had appeared out of nowhere sometime during her last meeting of the day. “Great,” she muttered, rubbing her bare arms. Arizona’s unpredictable monsoon season at its finest.

  In a mocking curtsy, Mother Nature smoothly edged out the last tiny bit of blue in the sky and dumped a city-dousing waterfall of rain onto the ground within a six-second window.

  Lovely. Not even a nice drizzle to give her a head start.

  “Don’t you even think about it!”

  Abby spun around to see Evelyn Ramirez, the English department head, running down the hall with a fire hydrant yellow Piñon Pine Middle School rain cloak. “You were going to run out in that downpour, weren’t you?” she accused as she slapped the school spirit poncho into Abby’s grateful hands.

  Abby smiled sheepishly. “I don’t live that far away.”

  A disapproving headshake was all she got back as she donned the thin plastic, glad that it was long enough to cover the book bag at her hip. “Thanks Eve. I’ll return it tomorrow.”

  “You most certainly will not. You’re not coming in, remember? That dissertation isn’t going to write itself, missy. And if you come around after school one day with your bleeding heart, these kids will pounce and suck you dry.”

  At Eve’s fierce look, which was at least half serious, Abby laughed. “Okay, I’ll keep it as a reminder of just that.”

  A crash of thunder made them both jump. Eve studied the courtyard through the sheets of rain coming down. “That’s a storm, alright. You better just make a break for it now.”

  Abby was thinking the same thing. After a final thanks, she darted out into the pounding rain.

  Exiting the school premises, she cut to the shortest route back to her house, resigned to splash through ankle-deep road puddles to save time. With just under a block left to go, however, she slowed down when she spotted a girl huddling under an anorexic sidewalk tree, trying in vain to stay dry.

  “Skylar?” she called out, wiping the water out of her eyes to make sure she was seeing correctly.

  The girl’s guarded stranger-danger expression dissolved into a relieved smile. “Abby, hi!”

  Running over, Abby again cursed the fickle Arizona weather when she saw that Skylar was similarly not dressed for the rain. “Why aren’t you at your Uncle Connor’s?”

  “I stayed back afterschool to sign-up for some clubs. Then out of the blue, it started pouring like crazy. I’ve been trying to call my dad because I figured he and Coach Bill canceled fall football tryouts today but he isn’t answering his cell.”

  “Your dad had a faculty meeting before practice today so he probably doesn’t have his phone on.” Without thinking twice, Abby immediately yanked off her new sunbright rain barrier and slipped it over Skylar’s head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have way more padding than you, hon. You need this more than I do to stay warm.” While Skylar was busy trying to find the poncho’s elusive armholes, Abby rustled around in her bag for one of the plastic bags she usually kept in case she needed to carry library books when she was doing research. Finding one, she wrapped up her book bag to protect it from the rain. “Okay, there are no two ways about it, we just have to make a mad dash for your uncle’s house.” She gripped Skylar’s hand. “Ready?”

  Skylar’s wary ‘not really’ was still hanging in the air under the tree when Abby yanked her out into the rain and started them on a frantic six-block sprint uphill in the opposite direction of her own home.

  By the time they got to Connor’s mini McMansion, Abby was sure she looked like a drowned stray cat. She certainly felt like one. Racing up his absurdly long driveway, she wordlessly pointed to the side yard, knowing she’d never be heard over the drumming rain. Skylar just nodded and followed her around the house to the back porch. The night of the party, Abby remembered seeing a mudroom of sorts at that entrance. As water-logged as they were, she didn’t want to go near the grand front entry.

  “OMG! That was insane!” screeched Skylar when they finally managed to dive under cover.

  Chortling in agreement, Abby clutched her side and tried to catch her breath. A long distance sprinter she was not.

  As soon as she was physically able to speak without gasping, she pushed Skylar into the house. “Go in and get warmed up. I’m sure your uncle has an old t-shirt and drawstring swim trunks you can borrow while you throw your wet clothes in the dryer. If he doesn’t, or if they look to be made out of some fancy materials worth more than your ipod, text me and I’ll drive back over here with some spare clothes.”

  “Wait, you’re going? You can’t walk back to your house in all this rain. Come in and wait it out.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s going to let up, kiddo. I’ll be fine. A few more minutes of rain won’t kill me.”

  “Well at least let me find you an umbrella. I’ll go check the closets.” Skylar bounded down the hall, clearly knowing where she
was going in this museum of a home.

  “Don’t track water onto the carpet!” Abby hollered after her, marveling over the echo that bounced off the crown molding and pristine marble floors. Why a hardcore bachelor like Connor needed such a huge, extravagant house was beyond her.

  Realizing that she was dripping all over the nice flagstone porch, she went over to the covered walkway near the garage to wring out about a gallon of desert rain from her hair. Normally, she loved having long, thick hair that could knock out an innocent bystander if she attempted to do a shampoo commercial hair flip. Today was not one of those days.

  Bent over and focused entirely on squeeze-drying the wet blanket of hair cloaking her face, Abby almost toppled onto her head when a voice sounded out from above, “What are YOU doing here?”

  Abby shut her eyes and shivered. Not because she was soaked and freezing her ass off. But because she was suddenly hot. Very hot. Tear-your-clothes-off broiling. And the dangerous spike in her temperature had everything to do with that low, raspy growl. Or rather, the man behind the growl.

  Connor.

  She dragged in a slow breath and let the heat of his deep voice warm her like a luxurious fire for a beat…until it occurred to her—a few brain-foggy seconds later—that his clipped question earlier had been absolutely dripping with disdain.

  Startled, she looked up to confirm her suspicions.

  Sure enough, Connor was standing there positively glaring at her, his lips curled in a contemptuous sneer, well into the territory of hostile.

  “Don’t worry, Abby, I’m not going to introduce myself to you again today.” He eyed her up and down. “So what’s the story behind all this? Did you somehow get lost on the way to Brian’s? Or did you perhaps follow the yellow brick road here thinking it was paved with gold?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “Honestly, after how Brian’s gone on and on about you over the years, I never figured you for a brother-hopper. I can’t believe you’d do this to him. What was the big plan? Sneak back onto my property and attempt to seduce me in that trampy get-up?” His eyes dropped mockingly to her drenched chest, which was basically naked under the now transparent fabric plastered to her body like shrink wrap. “Did you really think that was going to tempt me enough that I’d forget you’re dating my brother?” He scoffed coldly and drilled her with a glower. “Let’s face it, honey, you’re not exactly the wet t-shirt type.”

  Trembling with an equal amount of outrage and hurt, Abby shot him with the most lethal look she could muster before scrambling back to the porch and grabbing her book bag on the fly. Without another word—though she had a few choice ones in mind—she turned and took off down the driveway.

  Away from that colossal asshole.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As CONNOR WATCHED ABBY flee his lot, upset and clearly mortified, he wondered why the sight of her tears were having such an effect on him. It’s not as if she was the first woman he’d shot down for showing up at his house half-dressed and looking for a good time. She was, however, the only one he’d ever had to turn away because of his brother.

  Okay, so a part of him felt like a jerk for what he’d said to her. But just picturing how bummed Brian would be about all this was enough to send those guilty feelings packing. Running off with her tail between her legs was the very least she deserved for screwing with Brian. Connor just hoped his brother wasn’t too serious about her yet. The fact that the two had been best friends for so long surely complicated things. Regardless, he’d be brutally honest and help Brian nip the doomed relationship in the bud before she broke his heart down the line.

  There would be no backseat-brothering on this one.

  Standing idly by while Brian had limited his life to just plain existing for the past year had been torture. But it had been a cakewalk compared to seeing him spend a decade waiting for a horrible illness to slowly kill the love of his life.

  Connor wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

  Day after day, he’d watched Brian go to that hospital room and whisper reminders to Beth of how much she was loved, long after the dementia from her disease had stolen everything that was sweet and good in her...along with all her memories of her husband and child. It had been heartbreaking to witness. Honestly, Connor wasn’t sure he’d have been able to survive it had the roles been reversed, and God knew the years before the hospitalization had been just as bad, in an entirely different way. He still got chills thinking of the day he’d heard Beth’s slurred voice screaming for Brian to take Skylar and leave, let her kill herself to end it all.

  Damn that disease.

  And damn the universe for this Abby fiasco on top of it all. Couldn’t it give his little brother a break for a change—

  “Uncle Connor? What are you doing home?”

  Connor almost jumped out of his skin.

  Shit, Skylar.

  His inner diatribe temporarily forgotten, Connor immediately shifted to damage control assessment. What were the chances that Skylar had caught the full frontal of Abby all slutted-up just now? With Abby being the closest thing Skylar had for an aunt, how the hell was he supposed to explain this without traumatizing the poor girl? Damn that woman for putting me in this situation.

  “Why hello to you too, princess,” he tossed out casually. “I had a few hours free so I thought I’d hang out with you on your first day here.”

  “Oh, cool.” She looked around. “Hey, where’d Abby go?”

  Fan-frickin-tastic. “So you saw her here, huh? She wasn’t here long…she just stopped by to, uh—”

  “She left?” A too-mature frown marred Skylar’s little pixie face. “I told her to wait ‘til I brought back an umbrella for her.” Shaking out a butt-ugly yellow rain slicker, she pouted some more. “And she didn’t even take back her poncho!”

  He did a double take. “What do you mean?”

  “Abby lent it to me before we ran over here.”

  Gulping, Connor felt cold hard shame start to prickle over his skin. “Abby ran all the way here in the rain with you?”

  “Yeah, it started coming down right when I left school. She found me under a tree trying to stay dry.”

  Worried, Skylar surveyed the rapidly worsening weather. “Dad will totally kill me if she catches a cold this week with all her…wait a sec—” She swung a suspicious look back his way. “Abby never leaves without saying bye. Did you say something to her?”

  Smart girl.

  Choosing to sidestep her question for the time being, he pulled out his smartphone and asked instead, “Do you spell Abby’s last name with two T’s or one at the end?”

  “Two.” She raised a brow. “Why? Are you looking her up to apologize for something? If so, I have her cell number.”

  He sighed. “I don’t think that’ll cut it. I think I need to send her a whole bunch of sorry-I-was-such-an-idiot flowers.”

  “Holy moly, what did you say to her?”

  Quickly texting a request for his assistant to order him the most extravagant floral arrangement she could find, he ignored his niece’s interrogation once again. “You wouldn’t happen to know Abby’s address would you?”

  “Nope.” A slow, serves-you-right smile hooked her lips. “But dad does.”

  Silently, he unleashed a string of expletives and began estimating what the going rate was for bribing a kid nowadays.

  It’d be worth it for the stay of execution by Brian’s hand.

  “How the hell did you find out where I live?”

  Connor winced, but stood his ground atop Abby’s doorstep. Thankfully, the gigantic doorway-filling flower arrangement his assistant had purchased for him was allowing him to hide for a few precious seconds longer. Blindly shoving the flowers forward, he waited for Abby to take them.

  When she didn’t, he took a peek around the massive bouquet to see if she was even still there. She was.

  And she was trying her damndest not to laugh.

  “Is this monstrosity for a funer
al?”

  Grateful for the buried humor he heard in her voice, he let out the breath he’d been holding and ventured with caution, “Depends. Are you going to kill me for what I said earlier?”

  “Right after I maim your brother for giving you my address,” she promised sweetly, with just the hint of a smile.

  He dropped the ridiculously heavy flowers onto the ground. “He didn’t. I asked one of my investigators at the firm to dig up your info. Brian doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “Afraid to tell him?” she prodded with little sympathy.

  “Shouldn’t I be?”

  Leaning against the doorframe, she took her sweet time answering, “Nah, Brian will probably just laugh his ass off.”

  That’s what he was afraid of.

  And clearly, the grinning imp darn well knew it, too.

  Seeing her amusement at his expense ripen even more, he saw a brief opening and took a shot, “So are you going to put me out of my misery already and forgive me?”

  “I don’t know. Did you apologize?” she countered.

  Damn, she wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

  “I’m…sorry, Abby. Truly.” The words were rusty and foreign in his mouth; they weren’t ones he used very often.

  Suddenly, her smile dissolved into a look of remembered irritation. “Sorry for calling me a gold digging whore or for saying I was too fat to be in a trashy wet t-shirt contest?”

  He reeled back as if bitch-slapped. “I didn’t call you fat! Good lord, you don’t really think that about yourself, do you?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped.

  “Good.” He wasn’t a fan of women who were constantly putting themselves down. “If you did, I’d tell you to go get some new glasses. Your body’s gorgeous.”

  She bristled in disbelief. “I’m not some self-conscious girl in need of your validation, you big twerp. I laugh when my dress size stays in the double digits during holiday months; it means my friends and family put that much more love into their dishes that year. I don’t need false compliments from a guy who dates size zero models to feel good about myself.”