by Marilyn Lee
“I don’t.”
“Don’t you? Aren’t you even a little tired of that ‘friends with benefits’ nonsense?”
“No, or I’d do something about it.”
“Oh, come on, Lin. There comes a time in every woman’s life when she wants to know a man wants a serious relationship with her that goes beyond sex.”
“When I reach that point, I’ll do something about it,” I told her again. “I don’t need help landing a man.”
“I know that. Stop overreacting.” She squeezed my arm. “Let’s go meet Grant.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.” She laughed and tugged at my arm. “I promise you’ll like him.”
I gave her a cool look. This stunt would seal things for me. I was definitely going to be on that plane on Friday night flying back to L.A. But for now, I’d have to meet this Grant.
I pulled my arm from hers. “I don’t like this,” I told her.
“Lin—”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing else to say.”
She sighed and turned away.
I followed her into the living room, seething.
Jarrod and the other man occupying the room rose when we entered.
I cast a quick look at Grant then did a double take. The resemblance between the two men was superficial. Grant was a few inches taller. His hair was a much lighter brown and his eyes were an intense and almost startling blue. I guessed he was about ten years younger than Jarrod. He looked as if he’d be at home on the cover of an upscale men’s magazine. Whereas Jarrod was “interesting,” Grant was handsome with an unmistakable hard–body, but strangely enough, I was hard pressed to keep my gaze from lingering on Jarrod’s face as he introduced Grant.
“Lin, this is my cousin, Grant West. Grant, this is Linea Hills, Jen’s best friend.”
Grant flashed a dazzling white smile my way as his hand closed around mine. “I’m delighted to meet you, Linea. Or may I call you Lin?”
I noted a rather enchanting dimple in his left cheek. He held my hand longer than politeness dictated and he looked directly into my eyes as he spoke.
I swallowed hard, feeling almost as if he were looking directly into my soul and seeing my lustful thoughts. That’s a feeling I didn’t like one bit. “Sure. Everyone calls me Lin.” I flashed him a quick smile and withdrew my hand from his.
“Do they?” Like, Jarrod, he had a warm, deep baritone. “Then maybe I’ll call you Linea.”
“Why?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ve never liked being lost in a crowd with other men.”
I blinked at him. “Were we talking about men?”
He arched a brow. “Isn’t that what you meant?”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“I stand corrected. May I call you Linea?”
He possessed the air of a man used to getting everything he wanted from a woman. What had possessed Jen to think I’d be interested in a man who probably viewed himself as God’s gift? I flashed him a cool smile. “Sure…fine. Call me Linea if you like.”
“I do.”
I looked away from his intense gaze and the undeniable intimacy he managed to project into the two words. “Great.” I moved across the room to sit on the loveseat, my heart racing and my cheeks hot. Okay, Lin. Get a grip. You are not going to let some smooth talking ladies’ man get under your skin.
“What would you like to drink, Lin?” Jarrod asked me.
“A Martini,” I said. I glanced at Grant and found his blue gaze locked on me. I forced myself not to look away. If he wanted to stare, let him.
Jarrod nodded and turned to look at Jen. “The usual, hon?”
She nodded and slipped her arm through Grant’s.
He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek before they crossed the room toward the sofa and love seat.
Jen sat on the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable, Grant.”
“Thanks, Jen.”
I stiffened as I watched Grant move past the sofa. He paused by the loveseat.
I moistened my lips and glanced up.
He smiled down at me. “Do you mind, Linea?”
He was handsome and probably very charming. He radiated sex appeal. There were probably few women who would object to sharing a loveseat with him. What did that say about me or how Jarrod had affected me that I felt as if I were one of them?
I smiled again and nodded slowly. “Well, actually, I do—”
“Thanks.” He cut me off and sank down beside me on the loveseat.
He was a big man and I wasn’t a skinny Minnie. I could feel his thigh pressed against mine.
I glanced sideways to find him looking at me.
He smiled at me and deliberately placed his arm along the back of the seat.
Damn him. Although his fingers didn’t touch my bare shoulders, they were only inches away and seemed to radiate heat.
Why was he smiling? What the hell made him think I wanted to share a loveseat with him and have his hard thigh pressed against mine? Okay, Lin. Settle down. How’s he supposed to know you’re lusting after his cousin who just happens to be married to one of your oldest and best friends?
“Here you are, Lin.”
I tore my gaze away from Grant’s as Jarrod crossed the room and handed me my drink. “Thanks.” I accepted it and took several sips.
“Jen tells me you’re visiting from L.A,” Grant said.
What was wrong with me? Why did such a simple statement sound like a proposition? I nodded without looking at Grant. “Yes, but I won’t be here for much longer.” Thank God.
“Oh? When are you leaving?”
I sipped my drink, keeping my gaze on Jarrod and Jen who shared the sofa. “Excuse me?”
“Tell me, Linea, do I offend you in some way?”
I felt like a grouchy teenager as I took another quick sip of my drink. I knew my juvenile behavior had triggered the question. I smiled and turned to face him. “Of course not.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Last time I checked I didn’t have any unsightly hair growing out of my ears or nose. I took particular care to ensure my breath was as fresh as possible before we met so hopefully that’s not a problem for you.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s not.”
“Are my ears too big?”
“Are your ears too…what?” I placed my glass on the table to my right.
“I’m trying to figure out why you’re avoiding looking at me. What about me offends or turns you off? I know L.A. is full of handsome men, but I didn’t think I was so butt ugly I was impossible to look at.”
I had a feeling he knew perfectly well women found him attractive. Nevertheless, his point was well taken. I held up a hand, palm outward. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.”
“Great. So what is it?”
“I didn’t sleep very well last night and I’m a little tired,” I said, feigning a yawn.
“So you don’t think I’m butt ugly?”
I shrugged, smiling suddenly. “Well…not butt ugly…maybe just average ugly.”
He laughed and shifted closer to me on the loveseat until I felt as if I were practically pinned to the side.
Neither his arm nor his fingers actually touched me, but I immediately felt heat rise to my cheeks. I tried to maintain his gaze but finally looked away.
He leaned close and spoke with his lips inches from my ear. “Relax. I rarely bite in public.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back in a low voice.
He laughed again.
I ignored him. He could laugh all he liked—as long as he kept his big paws to himself.
Jen wrinkled her nose before bolting off the sofa. “I’d better go take dinner out of the oven.” She looked at Jarrod, who’d also risen to his feet. “Check the table for me, hon.”
He nodded. “Of course.” He looked over to Grant and me. “Give me a few moments and then join us in the dining room.”
I watched in panic as they both left the room, leav
ing me alone with Grant. Great. Get a grip, Lin. Since when is it a bad thing to be left alone with a handsome man?
I met Grant’s gaze and flashed him a quick smile.
He smiled back.
I blinked. He had a very nice mouth that curved while his smile spread to his eyes. And damn his gaze was intense and very blue. His cologne tickled my nose. I looked at his mouth again, noting his full bottom lip. It looked very…kissable. For the life of me I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Worse, it was difficult to look away from his mouth.
He arched a brow. “Tactful, aren’t they?”
I laughed and some of my tension dissipated. “Very.”
“Jen tells me you’re not seeing anyone special, Linea.”
He made my name almost sound like a secret caress. Okay, girl. I don’t know what was in that drink but it’s going to your head. “Did she also tell you that was my preference?”
“No, but that’s probably because it went without saying.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Having met you, it’s obvious that if you wanted it any other way, you’d have a special man in your life.”
Okay. He definitely had a flair for saying the right thing. But I wanted to make it clear I had no wish to flirt with him or have him flirt with me. “Thanks for the compliment, but I am dating.”
He arched a brow, his gaze resting on my breasts. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”
To which response I had no answer.
“So you’re dating, but are you seeing anyone you’re serious about or interested in seeing exclusively?”
“Is that question for me or…the girls, here?” I asked, touching the side of my right breast.
He lifted his gaze to mine, his lips twitching. “I beg your pardon. They…your girls are very…impressive.”
I considered them one of my best assets so it was difficult to be annoyed with him just because he clearly thought so too. “They’re shy,” I told him.
“Really? I’m sure they…and you are used to male compliments and appreciation.”
Damn he made it difficult to not like him.
“So are either of you…three seeing anyone exclusively?”
I shrugged. “Not exclusively, but definitely seriously.” I liked sex as much as the next woman, but I didn’t hop into bed casually.
“Ahhh. Serious enough to preclude your interest in anyone else?”
Damn he was persistent. I nodded and rose. “Yes.”
He stood up and looked down at my breasts. “And do they agree?”
“Yes.” I turned away.
He placed a hand on my arm. “Are you sure they agree?”
I turned back. “What?”
“I could have sworn the right one just whispered my name,”
I stared at him.
He stared back. “And now the left one just made it a chorus. I think they like me and I know I like them.”
What the hell was I suppose to say to that?
Jarrod appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is ready.”
“Great.” I walked across the room without looking at Grant. But I could feel his gaze on me as he followed me from the room and down the hall.
At the dining room door, he touched my arm. “Linea?”
I reluctantly turned to face him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was totally out of line.”
Yes, he had been. So shouldn’t I have been annoyed instead of…excited? I shrugged. “Think nothing of it. The girls do tend to have that effect on men.”
He turned a laugh into a cough and followed me into the dining room.
During the meal that followed, each time I looked up, I found Grant watching me from across the table. Sometimes he smiled. Sometimes he just stared. But he made no particular effort to engage me in conversation. That suited me just fine since he generated conflicting feelings in me.
If only he’d stop staring at me and if I could stop looking to see if he still had that intense blue gaze of his turned in my direction. But I kept peeking and he kept staring throughout the meal.
We had after dinner drinks and coffee out by the pool. With the pool lights reflecting off the water and soft jazz filling the air, I finally relaxed. I was debating whether I’d need a swim after the others went to bed, when Jen struck again.
She rose suddenly, pulling Jarrod to his feet. “Help me take the cups and coffee pot inside, hon.”
“Of course.”
I smothered a sigh as Grant and I were left alone by the pool on loungers, with just a small table between us.
“When are you returning to L.A., again, Linea?”
I turned to find Grant watching me. “I’m not sure.” What? I frowned. Why had I just said that? Early Saturday morning, I’d be back in L.A.
“Then I’d love to buy you lunch or dinner tomorrow.”
I experienced an unmistakable surge of pleasure. I moistened my lips. “I…I’ll see if Jen is available.”
“Why? She’s not invited.”
“Oh. You mean just the two of us?”
“Yes, Linea. Just the two of us…unless you count the girls, who are, of course invited too.”
“Oh.” I digested the idea in silence.
“Which do you prefer? Lunch or dinner?”
“I…” Oh, get a grip, Linea. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve been asked out by a handsome male. “Let’s do lunch.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer dinner?”
“Why would I prefer dinner?”
He shrugged. “We can’t dance at lunch.”
I wasn’t so sure dancing with him would be a good idea. “Let’s do lunch.”
“Okay. How about I have lunch with you but dinner with them?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
He laughed too, but sobered first. “I’m serious. Would they have dinner with me?”
I shook my head. “We’re a package deal.”
“Maybe if I leaned close and asked them, they’d agree.”
The thought triggered another bout of laughter.
“If you keep laughing at me like that, you’ll give me a complex.”
“Nice try,” I said, smiling.
“All right. We’ll do lunch. Now that we have that settled, let me show you how much better dinner would have been than lunch.”
“Excuse me?”
He rose and stood over me with his hand extended. “Dance with me.”
I blinked up at him. “Dance with you? Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
“Thanks, but—”
“I wasn’t asking you. I was asking them,” he said, his gaze lingering on my breasts.
As if they had a mind of their own and liked all the attention they were receiving, I felt my nipples tighten.
I saw a flash of white as he smiled. “We have the perfect music, lighting, and atmosphere. Let’s make the most of them.”
The song playing wasn’t conducive to anything but slow dancing or what my parents would call slow dragging. Did I want to slow dance with him? Hell yeah.
“I don’t bite or grind against unwilling partners, Linea.”
How like a man to offer unwanted assurances.
“Nor do I have wandering hands.”
You are behaving like a silly teenager afraid of being kissed for the first time. Dance with him, already. “I’m glad to hear it,” I said lightly and gave him my hand.
I felt a tingle shoot down my back when his fingers closed around mine before he lifted me to my feet.
I flashed a quick smile at him.
He drew me into his arms.
With his hands resting against my back, I felt as if he’d enfolded me in a warm, sensual cocoon. His chest felt hard against my breasts. I could feel his thighs pressed against me. His cologne filled my senses. Damn but he was nice to be close to.
Feeling my heartbeat increase and my pussy tingle, I moistened my lips. Should I admit he was holding me closer than I liked
?
Almost as if he’d read my thoughts, he slipped an arm around my waist, stepped back, and took one of my hands in his. His chest no longer pressed against my breasts.
I released a relieved breath.
“Is this better?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Good. I wouldn’t want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable with me, Linea.”
He had a very warm, sexy voice. I could imagine how sexy it would be to have him whispering soft, intimate things in my ear as he fucked me. Feeling my cheeks burn, I flashed him a quick smile.
His hand tightened around mine as he drew me a little closer.
It was difficult to resist the urge to grind myself against his groin and my breasts against his chest. Get a grip, Linea. You are not some damned alley cat in heat. You’re not going to behave like one.
As we danced in silence, my curiosity about him was aroused. Had he ever been married? If no, why not? What kind of women did he prefer? Was he sleeping with anyone? Did he want to sleep with me? Did I want to sleep with him? Of course I did, but I wouldn’t. I already had two casual lovers in my life. I wasn’t going to add another one. And I didn’t do one night stands.
Despite my resolve, it was hard not to think about sex in such close proximity to his big body. Was he as aware of me physically as I was of him? I couldn’t tell. He kept his word. He didn’t grind against me or allow his hands to wander over my body.
The only indication he gave of enjoying the dance was the fact that he continued to guide me around several moments after the music ended. He was also slow to release my hand and to drop his arm from my waist. Even then he didn’t immediately step back.
That’s when I realized my head rested against his shoulder. My cheeks burned. I swallowed and stepped back, not allowing my gaze to rise any farther than the knot in his silk tie.
“Thanks.” He managed to infuse an incredible amount of sizzle into the one word.
I had to struggle to keep visions of falling into bed with him at the first opportunity at bay. “Sure,” I said, hoping my voice was steadier than it sounded to my sensitive ears.
“Tell the girls I said thanks.”
I bit back the urge to suggest he tell them himself—with his hands. I arched a brow. “I will.”
“So do you want to make it dinner tomorrow instead of lunch?”
