Fighting Dirty. Lori Foster
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pricked her eyes and her own smile kept twitching. “I can’t wait.”
When Cannon regained everyone’s attention, they faced forward again. But this time, Armie slipped his arm over her shoulders. It was so much like the old days when she’d been younger and Armie was always around, teasing her and looking out for her. Just being there. Emotions swelled.
“I’ve known for a little while now,” Yvette said.
That got everyone playfully complaining.
“We had Denver’s fight, and then he and Cherry got married,” Cannon explained. “Then Stack and Vanity turned Vegas into a wedding, and we figured that was all good news enough.”
“Ours could wait,” Yvette said. “But now I’m so glad to share.”
“Must be something in the air,” Vanity said. “Stack’s sister is expecting, too.”
Denver cocked a brow at Cherry, but she hurriedly said, “No. Not me. I’m enjoying being a wife for a while.”
Vanity saluted her. “Hear, hear.”
For the next hour everyone chatted and laughed, discussing everything from names to nursery furniture to a baby shower. The food Yvette had set out got devoured in record time and overall, the mood remained jovial. After she’d put in enough time for Cannon and Yvette to know she was thrilled with their news, Merissa decided to slip away. Or at least, she tried to. Armie followed her without being obvious to others. She, of course, was acutely aware of his nearness. If he looked at her, she felt it like a warm touch. Whenever he brushed against her, it hit her like a jolt. Maybe he could take it, but she couldn’t.
For the sake of her own pride, she needed away from him. Right now.
Yet when she hugged her brother and Yvette goodbye, Armie was there. She pulled on her coat and bumped into him. Without bothering to button up, intent only on escape, Merissa darted outside.
Finally alone, she paused a moment and concentrated on regrouping. The brisk evening air stung her nose and a chilling wind cut through her. She closed her coat and turned up the collar.
She’d just taken a deep breath when the door opened again and Armie stepped out.
The porch light illuminated them and part of the yard with its yellow glow. In nothing but his T-shirt, shoulders up against the cold, Armie watched her.
“What,” Merissa demanded, “are you doing?”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I wanted to talk a second.”
No and no. She didn’t want to talk. She already knew what he’d say anyway. “Not necessary.” She turned and headed to her car, and damn him, he stayed right on her heels. At the curb she spun to face him. “Armie!”
One side of his mouth curled. “Rissy.”
She threw up her hands in an expression of frustration.
He rubbed one eye, the back of his neck. Dropping his hands, he stared at her. “That kiss?”
Shocked, all the air dragged from her lungs, she went still.
“From a few months ago,” he clarified, as if she didn’t remember, as if it didn’t replay in her mind almost nonstop, every single day. “In Rowdy’s bar?”
“Right. I remember.” Although she often wished she could forget.
She’d tried hitting on Leese, just to shake off her melancholy over Armie. But Leese was a pretty awesome guy and he’d let her down easy, while making it clear he’d be on board except he knew her heart was elsewhere. Since then, she and Leese had become even closer friends.
“What about that kiss?”
For the longest time Armie stared at her, then he stepped closer and breathed, “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever felt.”
Oh God. She couldn’t hear this. She couldn’t feed the hope.
“I’m going to be straight with you.”
Her heart punched. “Okay.”
“There’s not a thing in this universe I’d enjoy more than having you.”
Having her? Just hearing him say it made her body react.
He touched her hair, smoothed it back over her shoulder. “Not winning the lottery. Not a title belt. Nothing.”
His thumb moved over her neck and her pulse leaped.
“I’ve thought about it,” he whispered. “A lot.”
“Me, too.”
“Shh.” He touched a fingertip to her lips to quiet her. “I seriously doubt we’re thinking the same things.”
She badly wanted to know what he thought. Armie was known for his sexual excesses and the variety of his experience. Far too often she tortured herself wondering what things Armie might want to do with her.
“And that’s the problem,” he added.
She wanted to cry that there was no problem, but she could already see he wouldn’t listen.
“I want you, Rissy. That should never be in question.” He held her chin, searched her face, and repeated, “Never.”
And there it was: unrelenting hope. Unsure what to say, she nodded.
“But more than that, I want you to have better than me.”
Wait... “What?” He couldn’t be serious. Better than him? Did he not know what an amazing man he was? How could that be? He had friends who cared about him. He had Cannon, and damn it, her brother was the finest man she knew. Cannon wouldn’t be best friends with a man who wasn’t every bit as awesome.
“I know you’re leaving your brother’s house because of me, and that’s the last thing that should ever happen. I don’t want to chase you away from your family. I don’t want to make you feel bad.”
“Too late.”
His face tightened. He dropped his hands and took a step back. “This is where you have to help me.” Looking far too serious, he said, “I don’t ever want to hurt you—you have to know that. So you need to get your priorities straight.”
She shook her head—but he said it anyway.
“Move on. Find yourself a good guy. Hell...” He choked a little, then whispered, “Settle down, get married, have kids of your own.”
Without him.
That’s what he meant. Do all of that—without him. A refreshing wave of anger helped to smother some of the awful pain. “You think I can’t?”
“I know you can.” He swallowed. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”
That made her laugh. Any man—other than him. “Did you notice my new look? I mean, all the other guys did.”
Very quietly, he confirmed, “I noticed.”
“Well, that’s me, moving on.” She flipped her hair. “New look, new attitude. I might even take a new position at the bank.” A different managerial position that would give her some distance from Armie. Sucked that she’d also be farther away from her brother—especially since she’d soon be an aunt—but she didn’t know any other way. “I’ve decided to take a page from your book, Armie.”
“Jesus.”
“What? You think you’re the only one to play the field, to get a little wild? I want experiences, too.” She’d wanted those experiences with him, but never would she beg him. “Go on about your life with a clear conscience—because I’ll be going on with mine.”
Jerking away, she got in her car and fumbled for her keys. Armie stood there, rigid, his gaze unreadable. And somehow, despite being a real