Page 19 of Blame it on the Kiss
She giggled and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “All right. But only because I don’t want to disappoint your mom.”
He slipped off his sports coat and put it around her bare shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The trip took about fifteen minutes. They didn’t talk, but the silence felt nice. He fought the urge to pick up her hand when their fingers brushed.
“Here I am.” She stopped in front of a small Spanish Colonial style house with a small brick porch. The plum-colored front door beckoned visitors inside with understated warmth. “Thanks for the escort.”
“Any time.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
She lifted a hand to her shoulder, to pull off his jacket he guessed, but instead she stilled as they stared at each other. Under the light of the moon her eyes took on the hue of the evening sky. Breathtaking. Unforgettable.
In the distance he heard the faint drone of a television. The scent of firewood reached his nose. She dropped her gaze, sliding it down his chest to his stomach, his legs, and then slowly back up again. Her open perusal made him hard and he cursed the effect she had on him. Why did she have to be Payton’s best friend and Cooper’s sister? He could deny it over and over again, but the truth was he wanted to finish what they’d started. Nothing serious, just some fun.
Her naturally pink lips parted a fraction.
Despite the fact that they stood in her quaint neighborhood with little space between the houses, he’d swear nothing else existed but the two of them.
“Something on your mind?” he asked. Tell me I am, he thought. Tell me this tangled attraction goes both ways.
Possession, affection, necessity, all swam through his veins as he stared at Honor’s expressive face. She tried to hide, but he saw how much he affected her even when she didn’t want him to.
“Just the usual. Here you go.” She handed him his jacket. “Thanks again.”
“Wait. Do you have a minute?”
She gave a small, confused shake of her head. “I guess so.”
“I’ve got to give the best man speech. Maybe you could tell me what you think.” Where the hell had that come from?You don’t want to say good-night.
Damn if that little voice inside his head hadn’t decided to take over his common sense. He wanted nothing to do with her. He wanted everything to do with her.
And so he’d take a few more minutes.
“Oh. Okay.” A cold breeze picked up wisps of her hair. Her body shook and she crossed her arms over her chest.
Bryce put his coat back around her.
“Why don’t you come inside for a minute and give it to me?”
He couldn’t help but let his dirty mind picture a few ways he’d like to give it to her. His inappropriate thoughts must have shown on his face because her cheeks reddened and she added, “The speech. You can give me your speech.”
Without waiting for him to answer, she pulled the lapel of his jacket tighter and led him into her house. “Have a seat.” She nodded to her couch in the small open space. “I’ll be right back. I need something warm to drink. Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He watched her enter the kitchen before he sat. One word best described her home—cozy. Wood flooring, comfortable furnishings, rich-colored paintings decorating the walls. On the fireplace mantle sat three framed photographs. Her and Cooper. Cooper with an older couple Bryce assumed were their parents. And one with her and Payton, huge smiles on their faces, the ocean behind them. Seeing the two of them together nearly cut off the oxygen supply to his lungs. This was a bad idea, being in her home, because the person he was most drawn to in that photo wasn’t the woman he’d loved.
A book on the ottoman caught his eye and he picked it up to distract himself. His mom loved Roseville pottery and had a large collection of the American made designs. “You like Roseville?” he called out.
“Yes,” Honor answered, glancing over at him from the kitchen counter. She gave a barely there smile as she slipped his jacket off and hung it over the back of a chair before turning back to her task.
Bryce thumbed through the glossy pages of the book. About to set it back on the ottoman, he froze when the next page he turned to carried a note tucked into the spine so it wouldn’t fall out.
The beige parchment paper the size of a postcard had a list written on it in neat cursive writing that he recognized as Payton’s.
1) Have a one night stand
2) Get a tattoo
