A Tempting Friendship (Clover Park #10)

by Kylie Gilmore

  You think I believe that bullshit excuse? You hungover?

  No.

  Save me some time and tell me what’s up. Emily’s giving me the look.

  Angel chuckled. Emily was his stepbrother’s fiancée, a nurse at the same hospital where Jared worked as an orthopedic surgeon. If anything, Jared was the one hounding her as soon as they got home from Sunday dinner, not the other way around. His brother was a total horndog. Hell, they all were, every one of his brothers. Him too, though he had more control. Usually. All bets were off when he got the signal from Julia. He’d tucked a condom in his wallet the moment he decided to be her blind date. Now that he’d crossed the no-touch zone, things could go from zero to explosive at any moment.

  Go give her what she wants, Angel texted.

  I will. Don’t worry. You meet someone?

  He hesitated.

  Spill it.

  Yes. He hated to lie. On the other hand, Jared could be relentless in his teasing and would blab within minutes to the family grapevine.

  Who? Was it Julia?

  Angel sucked in a breath, on shaky ground between honesty and total disaster. How could I meet her? I already know her. Semantics, whatever.

  Name, please.

  He didn’t reply. His cell rang a moment later. Jared. “I’m missing out on some fine Emily action over here—”

  “Jared!” Emily hollered in the background. “I’m just watching TV!”

  Angel laughed.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Jared said. “The woman is hot for me. More than anyone she’s ever met in her life, right, Em?”

  “No doubt,” Emily replied with a laugh.

  He shook his head. Angel had dated Emily a year ago, and Jared was still trying to deal with the fact that Emily had slept with Angel first. Angel had dated off and on since meeting Julia way back when, but no one ever stuck because of the hold Julia had on his heart. A painful fact. He ended things with Emily after four months, the longest he’d dated anyone, because even though she was great, a pretty pediatric nurse with a soft spot for kids, he knew he could never love her the way he loved Julia. Not that he’d ever told Julia he loved her. At first he couldn’t because she was with Brad. And then she was grappling with grief and wasn’t ready to hear it. Maybe this new beginning between them—

  “Did you nail her?” Jared asked.

  Angel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Geez, Jare. I had a first date, okay? Not everyone rushes into bed.”

  “You like her? More than…” His brother was showing an uncommon sensitivity by not saying Julia’s name. In a text, yes, but he’d pulled back in deference to the touchy situation. It seemed Jared falling hard for Emily had softened him a bit. But today Angel didn’t mind hearing her name. Not at all.

  “Yes, I liked her more than ol’ Julia.” New Julia was much better than old Julia.

  “Well, hell, that’s great news, bro. Keep me posted. Gotta go, the woman is doing a striptease.”

  “I am not!” Emily hollered.

  “Get to it, woman,” Jared said. “Bye.” He hung up.

  Angel stared at his phone, wanting to call Julia to check in, but something stopped him. If he really wanted to pretend they had a first date, a fresh start, he wouldn’t call right away. He’d wait a day, maybe two, before following up.

  Could he really start again with Julia?

  God, he hoped so. He didn’t think he could live in this eternal state of want for much longer. Something had to give.

  ~ ~ ~

  Julia paced her living room, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself. Just a simple kiss on the hand, Angel’s silky tone, filled her with dangerous pleasure. Angel and sex had always been wrong.

  A memory of the first time she’d been with Angel came back to her in a flash so vivid she had to sit down. Brad hadn’t made it back to campus at the start of his senior year because he was too sick with mono. Ironically, she was the one who gave it to him (she’d been sick most of the summer). It was the first weekend back on campus, and she’d missed Angel something fierce. He’d been working all summer, and between that and her being sick, she hadn’t connected with him. But now she had him all to herself, and Brad was back home, recovering at his parents’ house.

  She invited Angel back to her room, knowing her roommate was away. And though he joined her there, he didn’t make a move. Instead they talked all night, getting deep into philosophical discussions like why are we here on this earth? What is our purpose? What is the meaning of life? As it got late, neither one of them wanted to break the connection, this meeting of the minds that satisfied them both on a deep level. She’d changed into a T-shirt and sweats, he kept his T-shirt and jeans on, and they’d gotten comfortable, lounging on her bed as they talked into the wee hours of the night. Eventually they lay down on their sides, facing each other, talking and talking and talking. Angel’s head eclipsed most of the light from her nightstand, giving him an aura that she thought almost like a halo. Her Angel, always so good to her. Unlike Brad, who sometimes made her cry with his insensitive remarks tossed out in a joking way that still managed to cut deep in her sensitive heart.

  At some point Angel must’ve turned out the light because the next thing she knew, it was morning, the first rays of light filtering through the thin curtains, slowly making her aware of Angel spooning her from behind, one arm wrapped around her. They were on top of the covers like they’d talked until they conked out. She slowly turned to face him. He was sound asleep. She gazed at him, pretending for a moment that it was just the two of them in the world. She listened to him breathe, so steady and reassuring, like the man himself. His dark brown hair was adorably rumpled, the five o’clock shadow on his jaw more pronounced, his dark lashes sweeping over his cheeks. She let her gaze trail lower. He’d taken off his jeans and wore only a T-shirt and navy blue boxer briefs. His olive skin glowed with good health, his muscles defined from his biceps to his flat stomach to his legs, hard male perfection. Her fingers tingled, longing to touch. She forgot herself, forgot she was supposed to marry Brad at the end of the school year. Though Brad hadn’t yet proposed, it was understood. She reached out to gently stroke his thick, wavy hair. She slid her fingers through it and around to the soft wave at the nape of his neck that she’d always longed to feel. His hair was so thick yet so soft.

  She stroked his hair again while she looked her fill at his gorgeous face. His eyes opened suddenly, the heat in them registering on a deep primal level. Desire flooded her, making her light-headed, all of her nerve endings tingling, craving his touch. Acting on pure instinct, she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in, placing a soft kiss on his warm lips. A jolt ran through her at the contact, their very first kiss, and her eyes met his in equal parts shock and wonder.

  “Julia,” he said gruffly. That one word a warning—danger ahead. Only wrapped in the cocoon of dim morning light, nothing felt more right than what she did next, showing him what she wanted because she couldn’t say the words. She sat up and pulled her T-shirt over her head.

  He sat up too, gazing at her for a long heated moment before he took his own T-shirt off in one quick move. She took him in hungrily, from his broad shoulders to his beautiful chest with dark hair tapering down to boxer briefs tented with a massive erection. He groaned, and then, finally he touched her, his fingers tangling in her hair as his mouth claimed hers in a hard kiss of possession. A raw, carnal need consumed her. She pressed closer, her hands frantic to touch all of him, needing to join together. A frustrated whimper of need escaped from the back of her throat as she pulled at his briefs. He pulled them off, and then he was on her, his mouth demanding, his hands rough and all over her, the fire between them out of control as they fell back on the mattress, their mouths fused together. He pulled back just long enough to yank her sweats and panties down and off before thrusting inside her. She threw her head back in exultation. He thrust deep, over and over, both of them panting, her nails scratc
hing down his back as the pressure built, bringing her to a trembling state like she’d never experienced before, like she was about to shatter. Her eyes flew open in shock and euphoria, meeting Angel’s dark heated gaze in a body and soul connection she couldn’t fight, merely got sucked under, lost in it, lost in him as they raced together to what they both craved. Her climax hit in a sharp and sudden peak, the room dimming around her, and then she flew, soaring with a rush of pleasure. The room came back into focus as Angel pumped into her, rocking her with aftershocks until he exploded inside her. He stayed buried deep, his harsh breath rasping near her ear.

  Slowly, reality crept in—Angel, heavy on top of her, sticky between the legs from the wrong man, still shaky from a heart-pounding release. She took in his dark hair so different from Brad’s golden blond. The wrong man, her brain shouted. An overwhelming remorse and guilt seized her, making it hard to breathe. She pushed him as hard as she could, both hands on his shoulders. He rolled off her, but he didn’t leave. Instead he held her, side by side, chest to chest, his hand stroking her hair and down her back, soothing her. She breathed easy again, closing her eyes, lulled by the gentle strokes. A long time passed like that. Her heart resumed its steady beat, her limbs became heavy, her body melted into his heat.

  “Julia,” he finally said, “please tell me you’re on the pill.” Neither of them had thought of birth control in their desperate need.

  “I am.” Guilt pricked at her again, making her tense up. She was on the pill because she was in a serious relationship with Brad. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. What had she done? “You should go.”

  “I should, but I’m not.”

  “This was wrong,” she whispered. “We can never do this again.”

  Angel kissed her fiercely, roughly, stealing her breath. She lost herself, overwhelmed with all that he made her feel. He pulled back a long moment later and spoke, the words a hot whisper against her tender lips. “What we have is right and good.”

  “It’s wrong!” she cried.

  His mouth settled over hers, softer this time, molding her to him as he cupped the back of her head. His tongue swept inside, drawing a needy whimper from the back of her throat. He deepened the kiss as his hand slid down her back, palming her ass and pressing her against his hardness. Her body drenched with throbbing need, an overwhelming craving made her rock her hips restlessly against him even as her brain screamed at her to stop the madness. She’d never craved Brad like this, once had been enough with him. It must be because Angel was forbidden. Her best friend. Brad’s best friend. Angel shifted to the side of her neck, nipping and soothing with his tongue, his rough stubble scraping against her. She forced her eyes open and tried to think. Only one thing was clear—Brad was sick in bed and she screwed his best friend. Worse, she wanted to do it again. Desperately.

  She rolled away from Angel, giving him her back, and he pressed close, holding her from behind. Not demanding, not pushing for anything, just holding her, bringing her comfort. She didn’t know how long he held her. Her body relaxed so deeply she floated in and out of consciousness, lulled from his heat, safe in his arms where the outside world couldn’t touch them. She breathed in his scent, Angel mixed with musky sex, both a potent aphrodisiac and a reminder of what they’d done wrong. Slowly, she became aware of his hardness pressing into her hip, his hand now splayed low across her belly, making her ache with desire. She told herself to pull away, but her sinner body had other ideas. She lifted her leg and wrapped it back over his, silently telling him what she wanted. He didn’t hesitate, thrusting fully and deeply in one stroke. She closed her eyes, pretending it was a mystery lover in some alternate world, where their joining was right. A moan escaped her lips as she gave over to the dark desire again, which only spurred him on as he thrust fiercely, pulling her back onto him to take him deeper, making her forget this was her gentle Angel. His fingers were wicked, circling and stroking, drawing her up to dizzying heights and pushing her over the edge in a shattering crash that left her panting and shaking. He took some more, the pleasure still intense as he reached his own explosive release, his teeth sinking into the cord of her neck in a primal hold that sent her over again with a startled cry.

  After, he soothed her with long strokes of his warm hand, brushing her hair back, stroking down her arm and over her hip, down her thigh. The rhythmic touch smoothed the rough edges of the sinful lust that left her shaky, pulling her back from the guilt and remorse and leaving her at peace again.

  She couldn’t stop wanting him. He made sure of that.

  All weekend long, Angel pushed her from one extreme to another, alternately shaking her to her core and soothing her back to a peaceful state of contentment. The guilt quickly waned, replaced by a fierce craving that Angel met with fiery intensity. And every time doubt crept in, he’d sense her guilt the moment she looked at him. And he’d grab her and kiss her, all while telling her between wild kisses that what they had was right and good. But the words didn’t work for her, she couldn’t be convinced. So what she taught him, without meaning to, was that she responded best if he just took over, no words necessary. If he just pressed in from behind her where she couldn’t look in the face of her sin.

  And then the day after their sex-drenched weekend, Brad landed in the hospital, and Angel bailed.

  She leapt to her feet. She didn’t know what to do with all these feelings and desires Angel had stirred up, but the one thing that had made her feel good and in control was decluttering. Never mind that it was nine o’clock at night and she had work tomorrow. She couldn’t possibly sleep with the chaos in her head. She still had the kitchen, bathroom, two bedrooms, and the basement. She shuddered thinking of the basement. It was Brad’s space more than any in the house, and there were just too many reminders. Of course, the bedroom had its own reminders, though they’d only had one month together before he shipped out. He only got leave once a year. The very last year of his service when he’d been so close to getting out was when he was killed. She didn’t dream of him anymore. Worse, his voice and features had faded in her memory.

  She headed to the master bedroom and sat down on his side of the bed. She’d long since taken to sleeping sprawled across the center of the queen-sized bed, but this was the side with his nightstand. She turned and took in the long dresser with the mirror above it across from the foot of the bed. One drawer. She’d empty one drawer of his—the sock drawer. You couldn’t get any safer than a sock drawer. She crossed to the dresser, opened the top drawer on his side and peeked inside at the neat rows of socks, boxer briefs, and a couple pairs of jogging pants, rolled up to fit, that he slept in. Exactly as she’d placed them before he shipped out. He’d taken only the bare minimum with him.

  She stepped back. Were these things she needed to save? No. Probably no one would want these for charity either. She fetched a large garbage bag and returned. She stood there for a moment, frozen, and then shook her head. It’s just socks and underwear. Nothing’s going to bite you. She was being silly. She had many more reminders of Brad than socks. She grabbed a couple pairs of socks and tossed them in the bag. That wasn’t so tough. She kept going, enjoying the soft plunk as each pair hit the bag, liking even more the nice, neat empty space inside the drawer.

  Something about decluttering was really freeing spiritually. She had no idea why, but she was so glad she’d picked up that book. She kept going—socks, check; underwear, check; pants. Wait. She should donate the pants. Maybe someone would get some use out of them. She set the first pair on top of the dresser, reached in for the second pair tucked in the back, and something scraped against her hand. She felt around. Something paper. She bent down and peered up to the top of the dresser drawer. An envelope was taped there with her name printed in Brad’s tiny handwriting. Her hand flew to her mouth. Holy shit. He’d left her a letter. Chills ran through her. Oh, God. She never thought she’d hear from him again. How long had it been there? Five years? Eight years? Before he shipped out?


  With shaking fingers, she carefully peeled the envelope off the drawer and sank to the floor. She leaned back against the bed, staring at her name in shock before bursting into tears. It was like Brad was watching her from heaven and knew she’d gone out with Angel. Guilt and shame swamped her. He was a hero. She was a sinner. What had she done?

  She took a deep, quivering breath, opened the envelope, and pulled out a folded piece of lined paper. It was dated the day before he shipped out eight years ago.

  Dear Julia,

  If you’re reading this, I’m long gone. (On the small chance you’re reading this and I’m still active duty, put it back, and we’ll talk later.) Knowing you, you’ve left all my stuff exactly as it was because you like things to stay the same. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t work that way. Anyway, assuming I’m dead (sorry to be morbid), please know that everything I did, I did for you. I knew when you were ready to go through my mess of stuff, you’d be ready to move on. I hope it hasn’t been too long. Here’s what I want, the last time I’ll ever ask anything from you, I want you to sell the house and start fresh. I know you, Julia, you cling to the past, look how long it took you to forgive your parents. I’ll always be a part of you just like you’ll always be a part of me. I love you. You were always the better half of us.

  Love,

  Brad

  P.S. Go see my parents. Get the letter taped inside the top dresser drawer in my old room. Read it with my parents. I know that’s two things I asked from you, but you can’t argue with a dead guy. Ha-ha. Say hi to Angel for me. He’d better have looked out for you like he promised.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth. She could hear Brad’s voice, clear as day, that devil-may-care attitude, the way he expressed his emotions, only rarely, but so sincerely they wrapped around your heart. She blinked a few times as it slowly sank in that her suspicions were true. Angel had hung around her the last five years because Brad told him to. She was his responsibility, his duty. Angel and Brad had always been protective of her. They met her when she was a vulnerable eighteen, still reeling from the shock of being adopted. Obviously she could never truly start again with Angel. He’d always see her as that young girl he had to watch over.