by K. J. Wolf
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 K.J. Wolf
ISBN: 978-1-77130-441-2
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To Dan
DANGEROUSLY SAFE
K.J. Wolf
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
“I know you’re in there!”
Hannah Monroe pounded her fist against the storm door for the third time. The glass shuddered as she hit it, making her reflection vibrate in the dimming light. Her stomach growled, and she shivered. She wasn’t dressed to stand in the cold, hadn’t eaten all day, and her dinner plans depended on Chris. He needed to get his butt in gear.
At least she’d had the night off from working at the bar. Her boss, Roxy, knew about her hatred of all things Valentine's Day. She also knew why love was the last thing in the world Hannah wanted in her life.
Roxy had grown up in a violent household with screwed-up parents, too. Hannah's folks had ignored her when they weren't putting her down, while her father smacked her mother around until she hit the bottle. Roxy also knew about the attempted rape of Hannah and did whatever she could to make her feel safe, including keeping her from being exposed to romance's number one holiday.
The last thing Hannah wanted to do was spend her time watching lovey-dovey couples pretend to give a crap about each other. What a crock.
His truck was parked in the driveway, so she knew he was home. That man never went anywhere unless it was in his truck surrounded by all the things he thought he might need. Chris worked as a carpenter. Apparently you never knew when you’d run into a carpentry emergency and need your tools, stat.
That quirky trait might have bothered others or left them scratching their heads, but it was one of the things she loved most about Chris. He was dependable. Safe. He lived life the way she wanted to feel. Stable. Secure.
She listened for footsteps before she opened the outer door and banged on the interior one. “Damn it, Christopher Worth! Open the door!”
As she raised her fist again she heard the faint muffled sound of steps on hardwood floors. His pace sounded heavy and determined. Good, she thought. At least he wasn’t ignoring her anymore.
The door flew open with such force she hopped backwards. She could see Chris’s white t-shirt reflecting what little light was left, but his face remained in the shadows. Seconds ticked by while she waited for him to say something. He didn’t.
She took a step forward. “Hey, stranger.” God, that sounded lame.
“What do you want?” His voice came out flat and tired.
“I came to see you, Chris. You weren’t answering your phone.” She opened the storm door wide and moved closer. “Come bar hop with me, and maybe we’ll both get lucky.”
Chris leaned into the fading light, and he lowered his chin to look at her. His shadowed eyes looked glassy and cold. She fought the urge to cup his cheek with her hand. “Go away, Hannah. I’m not in the mood tonight.”
She took a deep breath and wagged a finger in his face. “You’re better than this, Chris. She’s not worth it. Stop wallowing and come out with me!”
His hand shot out, and he grabbed her finger. “I’m not in the mood, Hannah,” he snarled. She could smell the beer on his breath.
“Are you drinking? I’ll join you.” She yanked her finger out of his grasp and turned sideways to slink through the narrow opening at his side, sliding along his solid frame. Every nerve ending in her body came alive at the contact. No matter how many years they’d been friends, the thrill of brushing against his body hadn’t faded.
“Hannah.”
She ignored him, threw her jacket towards the hall closet floor, and strode straight back through his small bungalow house into his kitchen. The cool air hit her bare skin, and she cursed herself for not dressing more appropriately. Chris liked his house cool. Really cool. Every time she came over she’d shudder with chills if she hadn’t worn layers. The white tank top that showed off her red bra underneath and tight jean ensemble had been intended to draw attention to her assets, not keep her warm in the arctic chill of his house.
Light spilled out of the fridge and into the kitchen. She grabbed a beer and turned, smacking into Chris’s solid chest. “Damn it! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
She reached behind her to close the door until she saw the features of his face for the first time in the light. He looked like shit.
Chris stood at his full height of six-foot-four, but everything about his posture made him appear shorter, from his slumped shoulders to his hanging head. His always perfectly disorganized brown hair now stood pressed to his head in some places while sticking straight up in others. The dark circles underneath his eyes made the normally vibrant green irises appear dull.
She hadn’t seen stubble on his face since his high school years when he’d wanted to show off his new banner of manhood, but it was back. The urge to run her fingers along his strong, angled jawline and over to his lips consumed her. She cleared her throat.
Seeing him in such bad shape threw her, and she didn’t get it. She wanted to take his pain away.
Taking his clothes off and soothing his sensitive parts with her hands and tongue seemed like the perfect way to do just that. Dammit. She cleared her throat.
“What the hell, Chris? You look like crap.” They’d known each other for more than ten years, and he’d never let a breakup get to him like this before. He’d been a little down but not to the point he didn’t want to see her. Nothing had ever shaken him.
Chris was the rock in her life. It was the reason she wanted to keep him as a friend. Sure, he was beyond hot, and the way he smelled like sawdust and cologne had become her favorite smell in the world. But having Chris as a friend was worth way more than a quick roll in the hay, right?
He’d seen her through the toughest years of her life with her parents’ violent fighting, the attempted rape in school, and every other bump in the road she’d gone over since they’d met. She didn’t know how she’d survive losing him if they wandered out of the friend-zone.
Not that he wanted her like that. Nothing he’d ever done gave her any reason to think he was interested in her “that way.” She’d been there for him when he’d broken up with the two girls he’d been serious about and any other tough times in his life. He treated her like one of the guys. It felt right that way. Safe.
He reached behind her for a beer, and his arm grazed the side of her breast as he pulled back. Her nipples strained against the lace of her bra, causing a tug in the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs.
“I’m tired, Hannah. I’m not up to whatever you have in mind. Just go on without me.”
“Go on without … don’t walk away from me, Christopher Worth!” The fridge door closed as she followed him leaving the room dark. She bumped her shoulder on the wall on her way to the living room. “Damn! What is going on with you?”
Her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, and she saw his outline sitting on the sofa. She plopped down next to him and cracked open the beer. It hissed and foamed over the edge.
“Shit. Sorry!” Her tongue darted out to catch the foam sliding down the can and over her fingers.
She twisted her lips to the side. “Hello? Everybody else has someone else, and it’s Valentine’s Day! We have a deal. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Yeah. I know. “
His apathetic response stung more than it should have. Wasn’t he the one who suggested they make a pact that whenever they were both single on Valentine’s Day, they would spend it together? It had been his idea, and now he wanted to sulk and regret it. Hell, no.
Any other girl might have taken the hint and walked away. She couldn’t leave Chris like this. And spending Valentine’s Day without him would just plain suck. Pact or no pact, they were best friends. She was there to stay.
“Chris, talk to me.” He didn’t say a word. She was going to need the help of alcohol to keep her cool with him. The cold beer hit her stomach, chilling her body another degree. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she set the can on the table with a thump and moved to get another from the fridge. Chris placed his hand on her arm to stop her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
“If you’re staying, you’re drinking the good stuff with me.” He reached over the armrest, and she heard sticky plastic pulling apart. There was a cooler next to him.
Chris turned on the lamp behind the sofa before he plunked two frosted shot glasses onto the coffee table. He poured from a tall, dark bottle and handed one to Hannah. She lifted it to her nose. “Jameson?”
He grinned. “Is there any other whiskey? Now down the hatch like a good girl,” he said before throwing his drink back into his mouth.
Hannah could drink like the rest of the guys most of the time, but something about that particular brand of whiskey got to her and fast. She also had an empty stomach. If she threw it back like Chris, she’d be a slobbering mess in no time. She knew she should take her time and sip it, but he was watching and waiting. The silence between them grew into an unspoken challenge.
She raised the glass to her lips and tossed back the dark brown liquid. Lord, it burned down the throat and into the stomach! It took all her willpower to resist coughing, and her eyes watered.
Chris steadied her hand with his and poured more into her glass. The alcohol must have already made its way into her system. She could have sworn his fingers lingered too long before sliding away.
Damn. Every nerve responded to him in with a violent intensity she’d pushed down for a long time. Tonight could prove to be too hard to be around him. Maybe another drink was all she needed to keep her feelings in check.
This time she sipped from the shot glass enjoying the slow warmth as it slid down. Chris downed another shot and poured some more. She traced the lip of her glass with her index finger as she watched his head tilt back, his Adam’s apple bob, and moisture glisten on his lips.
She clenched her thighs when the ache between her legs grew uncomfortable as she thought about licking the alcohol off of those lips. This wasn’t good. They’d been buzzed around each other before, and she’d been able to keep it together. Tonight shouldn’t be any different.
“You ever get tired of being alone, Hannah?”
Her vision swam when her eyes snapped to his face and took a moment to steady. “Huh?”
“You know. Most of our friends are married or will be getting married soon. It’s just you and me on the singles’ scene. Don’t you get tired of it?”
Hannah didn’t have any complaints about being single. Everyone in her life had been unreliable or untrustworthy with the exception of Chris. She didn’t depend on anyone but herself from day-to-day. Chris was a rare gem in her life.
Her job as a bartender didn’t give her much hope for the possibility of ever having a stable relationship. The shit people told her about cheating, lying, and all kinds of other crap they did to each other was enough to keep her single.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not like there’s a lot of outstanding guys out there just dying to show me what it’s like to have a healthy relationship. I doubt I’ll ever settle with one guy for long. I’ll always get let down or hurt. It’s just the way it is.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Even me?”
“We’re not like that, you idiot. I’m talking about the guys I’ve dated. You’re different. I know you’d never hurt me like they have.” She paused. “So, this isn’t so much about Ariel as it is about you not wanting to be alone. Is that it? Geesh. Buddy, you’re better off without Ariel, first of all. She wasn’t right for you. Secondly, you’re not alone. You’ve got me.”
The fact that she’d never liked any of Chris’s girlfriends didn’t matter. He just hadn’t met anyone who was good enough for him yet.
Chris rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Did you ever wonder what it would be like if we hooked up?”
She held her breath. “What?”
He shifted so he was facing her with his arm resting on the back of the couch. “Have you ever thought about you and me … you know. Dating?”
“No.”
She hadn’t seen the tiny light in his eyes until she said that little word, and it fizzled out. “Not ‘no,’ Chris. We just we aren’t like that. I love you too much and value our friendship way too much to risk it by adding sex to the equation. I thought that’s how you felt, too. Right?”
Chris pressed his lips together, looked away, and breathed a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I guess.”
Her heart was racing. Did he want more with her? She almost didn’t want to know. Almost.
She worked to slow her pulse. “Chris. Do you want to try dating?”
He looked down for a long time. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just so sick of trying so hard to make it work and having everything fall apart every time. You know?”
“Dude. You’re drunk. It’s not as bad as you think.” She moved to rest her head on his shoulder before pulling back with her nose wrinkled. “When was the last time you showered?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What? Do I smell? So what? It’s not like anyone cares.”
“I care, you moron. Go take a shower. You’ll feel better. I will, too. Trust me.”
Chris reached over to cup her chin in his hand. “You’re lucky I love you so much or else I wouldn’t put up with you, Hannah Monroe,” he said before he gave her a peck on the lips and held her eyes making her fingers itch to grab his face and touch lips again. She thought he was going to say something else, but he pulled back and headed down the hall to the bathroom.
It wasn’t the first time he’d given her a quick kiss on the lips, but it was the first time she’d almost given in to the urge and grabbed him to make it less chaste. A lot less chaste. The whiskey must have been getting to her.
She heard the water hit the tub in the shower and took a sip of her drink. Her head felt pleasant, light, and free of worry. And all she could think about was that Chris was naked just down the hall. That and he’d mentioned dating each other. Holy crap!
Her subconscious screamed he’d been hinting that he wanted more with her. It had been in his eyes until she’d shut him down, right?
She’d imagined being naked with him more times than she could count. But her common sense screamed there was no way she should venture into that territory.
It did happen though, right? In fact, there were friends who used each other for sex but never truly crossed that proverbial line into more. They could do it, right?
She threw back the rest of the liquor without thinking. It burned a lot less this time. In fact, she felt great. So great that her annoying Jiminy Cricket voice had dimmed to a whisper and she could ignore it. She poured herself another drink and tipped it into her mouth.
Chris was still naked just steps
away. And he’d brought up having something more than friendship. The ingredients were there. She was up to finding out if the recipe tasted as good as it looked. He only thought he wanted a relationship with her. What he really wanted was someone to be with on Valentine’s Day, and she was easily accessible. Right? She could do that.
He was still down the hallway, naked. And he’s the one who had cracked the door to their friendship open to something more. So if she walked down the hallway, got naked, and joined him, it would be on him, right?
The night started out with the hope she’d be able to hook up with someone. It had been too long since she’d gotten laid.
And Chris did it for her. He turned her on. The energy it took to suppress it could be exhausting.
She stared at the bottle of whiskey. What if he turned her down? Then she would have ruined everything without any of the fun. Was it worth that risk?
The answer was standing on the table right in front of her. She smacked her hand on her forehead. No matter what happened, she had Mr. Jameson to blame. Yup. Chris knew she was a lightweight. Most times he wouldn’t even offer her any. Mr. Jameson made her do it. She had a scapegoat, and Chris was ultimately the one behind it.
It would be her way out if things didn’t work out the way she’d hoped. She could claim drunkenness had her doing things beyond her control. He’d have no choice but to forget their one night together and keep their friendship in-check. They could enjoy great, no-strings attached sex if she played her cards right.
The room spun when she stood up and took a step towards the hallway. Her body swayed for a second before she steadied and took measured steps until she stopped outside of the bathroom. The door was ajar. That was just about an invitation from Chris.
She raised the white tank top over her head and looked down at her bra. Thank God she’d worn the red lace demi-cup bra and matching thong tonight. She thought they showed off her best assets—her big tits and rounded ass. Of course, she’d hoped to be hooking up with someone when she’d chosen them. Having that someone be Chris was just a pleasant, unexpected twist.
