CHAPTER FIVE

      FIGHTING THE STRING of obscenities rioting on the tip of his tongue, Garrett ground his molars together and pinched the bridge of his nose.

      It didn’t get worse than this.

      Well, that wasn’t true. It did get worse. It had been worse. Back when he’d been eighteen and his older sister’s friends had been trying to hook up with him intentionally. That had been way worse.

      This, at least, was an accident.

      Nikki. Hell, no wonder he’d had that bizarre sense of connection. He’d been listening to Maeve talk about her for years. He knew she’d grown up in Milwaukee, worked insane hours as an accountant at some big downtown firm, liked action movies over chick-flicks, read everything from sci-fi to biographies and that her favorite snack was peanut butter cups and corn chips. She sang along to the radio, badly, when she thought no one was listening and she didn’t date—ever.

      So what the hell was she doing tumbling into bed with him? Bringing some stranger into her home?

      Garrett’s stomach dropped as his feet stilled on the carpet.

      It was all that talk about appreciating the simple stuff. Aw, hell. Maybe he had “whispered” her.

      “Um … Garrett?”

      The muscles along his spine tightened as he turned to look back and found her clutching that damn phone to her chest like some kind of security blanket.

      “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to lie to Maeve about this.”

      She thought he was worried about Maeve finding out? Not even close.

      “If she teases you, you’ll just have to man up and take it.”

      Man up? He laughed out loud. Nikki was definitely one of his sister’s friends, because no one else on the planet would have the gall to talk to him like that.

      “I’m not worried about a little teasing.” Though he knew full well there wouldn’t be anything little about it. The teasing would be merciless, carried out by a seasoned professional he’d trained himself. But teasing he could take. It was part of the deal. You dish it, you better be able to take it.

      “So what’s the problem, then?” she asked, working the thin cover until it was wrapped around her, pulled up tight to her neck.

      And that was the first thing. The sight of a woman who had been so completely open to him not twenty minutes ago—bare and beautiful and unselfconscious as she panted for more, urged him on with the dig of her heels at his back and begged him not to stop. That woman—his little sister’s best friend—who hadn’t had sex in three years and for some insane reason had brought him back to her bed—was hiding awkwardly behind a blanket. That was the problem. He hated it.

      Clearing his throat, he answered, “You deserve better.”

      The second thing. Maybe a part of him was disappointed. Felt short-changed.

      He’d thought for a moment they could have something. Obviously he wasn’t after a deep commitment or extended obligation. He needed another responsibility like he needed a hole in his head. But something light. Fun.

      She’d seemed really fun. And intelligent. And just … easy in a way that had nothing to do with the kind of women he’d been scratching his itch with the past fifteen years. The kind who knew the score and weren’t after anything more than he was. A few hours. Once in a while.

      Nichole had made him think about things like movies and conversation and walks and all the stuff an average joe had tried on for size back in high school or college. Not that he’d tell her all that. She didn’t need to know. Probably wouldn’t believe him anyway, considering how easily that Panty Whisperer business had rolled off her tongue.

      Damn, he could only imagine all the preconceived notions she must have about him. And the truth of it was, letting her hold on to them would serve his purpose better than any of the clarifications he could make. Because she was Maeve’s best friend. Which meant all the concerns he’d never had with other women were suddenly there, front and center.

      He couldn’t attempt something casual with her because he’d worry about the implications his relationship with her would have on the one she had with Maeve. On his relationship with Maeve. And even though he was looking for more than some single night score, the relationship he was ready for was about taking in the occasional sunset … not riding off into one. It was about enjoying some pleasurable company for a while … not forever.

      It was about dating. Casually—his eyes cut back to Nichole—but exclusively.

      “Look, Nikki, you’re an amazing girl, but I don’t date my sisters’ friends. It’s a rule I’ve got.”

      Her expression cleared and she was leaning toward him then, the blanket draping more provocatively than she could have realized, based on the shy way she’d been covering up just moments before. He tried not to let his eye linger on the seductive gaps and tantalizing glimpses of the flesh he’d had full access to and could still feel beneath his fingers and lips, but were now completely off-limits. Round. Soft. Succulent. The kind of tempting swells that begged to be nipped and nibbled. Licked and suckled.

      The sound of a throat clearing in a pointed, eyes-up-here-mister kind of way had Garrett yanked out of that land of forbidden territory and rubbing a hand along the tightening muscles of his neck.

      “Okay, I know you’re freaking out a little right now.”

      The hand stilled as he arched a brow at the woman who’d just uttered the impossible. “Excuse me?”

      Those bare shoulders were pulled up into a delicate shrug as she waved a hand around in his direction. “But you honestly don’t need to be. I didn’t have any misconceptions about what was happening tonight. Where it could go or what it could mean. Really.”

      Uh-huh. “You don’t need to pretend with me, Nikki. I think we both know—”

      “No, Garrett. I don’t know what you think you know about me. But—”

      “I know it’s been three years. And before that dry spell you’d gone out with precisely two guys. Both of whom you ended up engaged to. So I’d say, yeah, you probably were serious.” Too serious for a guy like him.

      “So, I’m going to pretend it doesn’t creep me out that you know that. And I’ll wait until you leave to have my discussion with your sister about privacy, trust and boundaries—”

      Oh, man. This was going downhill fast. Holding out a staying hand, he tried not to get caught up in all the ways the bit of red rushing to the skin at Nichole’s neck and shoulders was different than what he’d sampled earlier.

      “What?” she snapped.

      “Don’t get pissed at Maeve about this.” And already with the complications a simple exchange of names might have avoided. “Please. She was just giving me some reassurance about the crowd she hung around with. Making