Trying It All

by Christi Barth

  Nah, that wasn’t precise enough. Summer Sheridan irritated the shit out of him. If Riley said “black,” she said “ecru.” Ecru, for fuck’s sake!

  He’d warned her not to spill her Bloody Mary on the white top that looked like an upside-down handkerchief tied around her neck. Ridiculous-looking—even if it did provide enough flashes of side boob to make him look at her twenty more times than he should have this morning. She’d coolly corrected him that it was ecru. Which annoyed Riley so much he snuck an extra-gratuitous stare the next time the wind flapped her excuse for a shirt, revealing more side boob.

  With apparently no bra.

  Riley’s brain urged him to slip out the door, make a break for it. They’d argued only a couple of times at the noisy brunch on the roof deck. Probably due to the eight other people that acted as a buffer zone between them. Two of them, alone in a hallway? Not a good idea. Except Riley’s other brain—the one housed in his pressed navy shorts—kept his feet firmly planted and his eyes locked on those swaying hips and tan legs.

  “Thought you had a butler to open the door,” Summer said as she tapped her foot, waiting. “Are you being punished for something? Did you lose a bet?”

  Right. Like a man couldn’t open his own front door. Deliberately, Riley turned the knob and then swept his arm wide to indicate she should go first. “We do have a butler. Nobody could run this house better than Jerry.”

  “He looks like a linebacker. Where did you find him?”

  Riley thought about walking away. But that wasn’t an option, thanks to Griffin falling in love with Summer’s best friend, Chloe. She was around all the time now. That being the case, she ought to know Jerry’s story, if for no other reason than to treat him with respect instead of the mocking that had sharpened her tone so far. “Will you drop it if I tell you?”

  Summer batted at a low-hanging branch that arced across the sidewalk. “Maybe.”

  “I met Jerry at the gym. Asked him to spot me one day because, well, like you said, the guy’s enormous. We got to talking. He blew his knee out his rookie year in the NFL. Went through his money in less than a year after that. He was hard up. We were hard up for someone to help clean up after Hurricane Sandy. I offered him some work, and then he just stuck around.”

  Her eyes melted like Hershey’s Kisses left out in the sun. Dark and sweet and rich. “You saved him.”

  None of them characterized it that way. “The saving was completely mutual.”

  “You could’ve hired a real contractor. You gave him a shot instead. Who would’ve thought that the buttoned-up Riley Ness had a heart beneath all that starched cotton?”

  How come her praise felt like it was covered in tiny insult spikes? Riley paused to tie his shoe. “Jerry’s great. We didn’t know we needed him. But all our lives run better with him at the helm.” Things could be crazy at the old rectory Knox bought with his first gajillion dollars for them all to share.

  Knox would disappear on a whim to go skiing in Vail or to buy a company in New Mexico. Logan disappeared for months at a time to provide assistance at disaster sites around the world. Griff used to have odd hours as a Coast Guard rescue pilot before he’d recently been promoted. Josh worked on his food truck and partied too hard to even notice if his shirts were clean. Yeah, they all needed Jerry’s help to keep them on track.

  Looking up, Riley saw Summer stepping into the street. Backward, because she was still focused on him. Backward…and directly into the path of a bicyclist all hunched over in his spandex gear and zooming down the street.

  Shit. Riley didn’t have time to get all the way up. He lunged forward. Grabbed her knees as he rose from his crouch, swung her over his shoulder, and then made it back to the sidewalk as he straightened all the way.

  “What the hell? Put me down,” she demanded, slapping at his back.

  He whipped around in time for her to see the biker speed past. “I don’t need a tip or anything. But I’d prefer you stop hitting me for saving your life.”

  “Oh.” Her hands stilled. It gave him the opportunity to notice the smoothness of her legs beneath his palm. The generous swell of breasts against his shoulder. Her perfectly rounded ass, right in his line of sight.

  Damn. Suddenly, Riley couldn’t set her down fast enough. Even though it meant inhaling her floral perfume, which hardened his dick before her heels hit the cement.

  “Thank you. I can’t believe you picked me up like that. You’re really…” Summer’s eyes trailed across his pecs, down his arms. So slowly that he felt the heat of her gaze like a phantom touch. “…strong.”

  “And really pissed. A third grader knows to look before walking into the street.” Okay, maybe he was using anger to burn off the fear that had clenched his gut when he’d seen her almost get run over. “You’ve got to pay attention, Summer.”

  “I pay attention when something interests me.”

  And damned if her gaze didn’t keep slowly lowering as she checked him out all the way down to his deck shoes.

  Impossible, reckless woman.

  Hot, tempting woman.

  She started walking again, and swung her purse back in the direction of the rectory. “Why’d you leave your own party early?”

  “I have to work.” Riley slipped behind her to give room—and a tight nod—to a pair of sweat-drenched joggers in way too many layers of spandex for the August heat.

  “You work for the National Transportation Safety Board. They don’t strike me as an impress the boss by putting in weekend time and you’ll make partner kind of place.”

  Out of patience, he snapped, “You’ve never seen a highway accident on a Sunday?”

  “If there was an accident you would’ve peeled out of here at light speed, instead of being all polite and holding the door.”

  Huh. She’d actually countered him with intuitive reasoning. Unexpected, to say the least. And as unwelcome as toenail fungus. “I have to spend some time on HR stuff. There’s no time to get to it during the week.”

  “It figures that you’re in charge of people.” Summer tweaked the collar of his shirt. “What with being all stiff and always telling people what to do.”

  The part of him that lived in a house with his best friends from high school? That made dirty jokes and fart noises with his armpit when Josh was in the hot tub? That part wanted to tell Summer exactly how stiff he could be. Under the right circumstances. With the right woman under him.

  But he didn’t. No point in going there. Not with a woman who contradicted every other word out of his mouth. Instead, he decided on polite small talk, since they were headed the same way on the sidewalk, and asked, “Why’d you leave brunch early?”

  “Work.”

  “Big folding emergency at your store?” Riley wasn’t proud of the dig. But Summer annoyed him. Their Labor Day weekend brunch was a tradition. Their roof deck had a terrific view of the District, Josh’s food was amazing, and a lot of women would have killed to be invited. How could she just abandon her best friend like that?

  The fact that he’d left early for the very same reason? That he’d left behind his four best friends, drinking and telling stories in a way that still felt new all over again with Logan finally back?

  Not the point.

  Not his point, anyway.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Summer asked, raising her voice, as she was now several steps away.

  Flaky. Her brain flaked off in more directions than the almond croissant he’d bitten into this morning. Another reason she drove him nuts. Nothing about her was reasoned or orderly. Especially not the dark hair that the breeze blew across her breasts. “I’m crossing the street.”

  “Me too.” She extended an arm to indicate the low, curved white wall a block—and a steady stream of cars—away. “The Dupont Circle Metro station’s right over there.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. It did not prevent a giggle from escaping. “Are you seriously walking an extra t
en steps just to use the crosswalk?”

  Riley could not believe they were even having this conversation. That they were yelling at each other across five cracked squares of cement because neither one of them would give an inch, conversationally or directionally. “Of course.”

  “How old are you?”

  He should just walk away. But Riley truly liked Chloe, and Griffin truly loved her. Which meant putting up with her nutcase best friend. On a sigh, he said, “Twenty-eight.”

  “Have you ever jaywalked?”

  “Of course not.” Had she lost her mind? “I’m the investigator-in-charge for the Office of Highway Safety in the NTSB. I’ve seen vehicular accidents on streets no busier than this one that would make you lose your lunch.”

  This time Summer clutched her stomach as she bent in half, laughter rolling out of her mouth in annoyingly musical waves. “From jaywalking?”

  Well, no.

  But he damn well wouldn’t admit that. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Respecting the rules of the road keeps everyone safe.”

  “Don’t you ever take risks?”

  “No.” Riley spent his whole life mitigating risk. Educating himself to prevent any possible risk from occurring. He knew how to escape a car if it plunged underwater. How to start a fire under any conditions. How to rock-climb without ropes. He’d even learned Spanish and French, and was contemplating taking up Chinese. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Come on, do something risky.” Straightening up, she crooked a finger and slid him a sultry look of invitation from beneath half-lowered lids. Christ. A woman should not be able to look that sexy at noon on a Sunday in broad daylight. “Jaywalk with me. It’ll be good for you. You’re too serious, Riley.”

  “ ‘Do something risky,’ coming from the girl who just plays with dresses all day?” He snorted. What did she ever risk? Getting a paper cut from a price tag? “In my world, people die from a car trying to outrun a train. Someone checks their Instagram feed a little too long while they’re behind the wheel, and people die. If I use the crosswalk, I cut my chances of being accidentally mown down by more than seventy percent.”

  “Living forever’s only fun if you truly live.”

  That jab stung. Because it was the same riff the guys threw at him, over and over again. “I live. I just follow the rules. Obey the speed limit. Turn off my phone before the plane starts to taxi.”

  Summer tossed her cloud of hair back. Gave him a knowing look. No, a knowing smirk. “Oh, I get it now.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not uptight. You’re chicken.”

  The woman had crossed a line. He’d gone through wilderness training and survival training. He’d climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. Become a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He’d pushed himself to physical and mental limits most men wouldn’t be able to attain. Being sensible? In no fucking way was it comparable to being scared.

  Riley’s long strides ate up the distance between them. Furious, he spat out, “You want me to try something risky?”

  “Yes. Just once. But I don’t think you’ve got the balls,” she taunted.

  Riley grabbed her face with both hands. Her lips parted in surprise. And he swooped right onto them.

  Her lips were soft. So soft and pliable it almost deterred him. But then…they were so soft and pliable that he couldn’t possibly stop. Instead of holding her still, his hands curved to cup the back of her head, his thumbs caressing those impossibly high cheekbones that gave her the look of someone made to walk a runway.

  Riley nipped at her wide bottom lip. Soothed it with a stroke of his tongue that savored the sweet, lingering tang of the orange cream cheese icing on the cinnamon rolls from brunch. He wanted to keep going. To nip and bite and lick down her neck, over the side of the breasts she flashed at him all day. To gobble down her sweetness and spice just like he had those rolls.

  Her moan refocused him. This wasn’t just following through on a dare anymore. This was a real kiss. A real moment of pure, physical pleasure. So he dropped his hands to the small of her back and hauled Summer tight against him.

  Thanks to her ridiculous—and ridiculously sexy—high heels, everything lined up right. The notch between her thighs ground right against his dick behind the suddenly too-tight fly of his shorts. Breasts plumped against his chest. Breasts he was pretty sure he could fit entirely into his mouth…He might have pictured them a time or ten since meeting her in the spring. Tight nipples insistently poked at his pecs.

  The kiss kept going. Ry slipped his tongue in as she let out a kittenish purr. God, it was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. The soft, tiny mewl fired through his blood. Fired him up. His tongue tangled with hers. Like they were two swords, fencing for the win. Because there would damn sure be a winner. The way they were grappling at each other? It wasn’t just fun. It was about proving something.

  Her mouth—made for kissing. And more. His tongue slid deep. Felt her wetness. And Riley couldn’t help imagining how all that warm wetness would feel locked around another part of his body. Summer’s hands came up to fist in his shirt. Shit—for a second, he worried she’d push him away. But then those fists pulled him even closer. One smooth calf twined around his. He wanted to walk her back ten steps to the nearest tree and just sink into her.

  Which was crazy. Riley didn’t even like this woman. He’d kissed her to save his pride. To defend his honor. To get her off his back. And now he wanted to put Summer on hers, spread her thighs, and—

  That was it. Riley let go. Let go of the sweet ass he didn’t even remember moving down to squeeze. Let go of those luscious lips. Yanked his head back and deliberately stepped out of the semicircle of her curved leg.

  “You and I both know that was the riskiest damn thing I could possibly do today.” Riley looked at her still unfocused eyes, her kiss-swollen lips. Proof that she’d enjoyed it every bit as much as he had. “Oh, and you also know now that I’ve got the balls. I’ve got the whole package.”

  Then he forced his hands to unclench and took off for the Metro stop. Took the escalator down to the subway two steps at a time. And didn’t bother to look back for her even once.

  Chapter 2

  Summer closed her eyes. Spun in a circle with her arms out, like Wonder Woman, because, well, why not? Stopped when she was just on the edge of dizzy. She grabbed the first hanger her fingers touched and opened her eyes.

  A black boatneck top, leotard-tight, that would count as cropped if you stood up straight. It’d show just a flirty glimpse of tummy. Paired with a tight black miniskirt that flared into a swingy, wide ruffle, it’d be perfect for autumn. Sandals would work on a warmer day, and a cool day would have boots and a sleek leather jacket.

  “This one’s a definite yes for the photo shoot,” she said, brandishing it at Chloe.

  Chloe. Her best friend since college. Despite the shocking lack of fashion sense that had her in a plain pink tank and shapeless gray shorts today. Chloe didn’t nod approvingly at Summer’s wise choice. Chloe didn’t snake out an arm to take it for herself.

  Nope. Chloe just let her head sag back on that swanlike neck and groaned.

  “What?” Summer snipped out. Because she’d been holding back her own groans all day. Not that hers were clothing related. No, they were all about Riley Ness. The infuriating, rigid man who apparently thought she had all the sense of a twig. The sexy, surprisingly sensual man who’d kissed her into a puddle two days ago and managed to sneak back into her brain with annoying regularity.

  His raw, brute strength when he’d lifted her onto his shoulder. The way he’d saved her in the blink of an eye. The way those rock-hard muscles on his back twitched when she touched them.

  Pointing a finger at the hanger, Chloe muttered, “You said that about the last ten outfits you picked. In a row, I might add.”

  Adding it to the pile, Summer asked, “So?”

  Chloe slammed shut the doors on the tall, white armoire. “You’re supposed to be curating a lis
t. Winnowing down. Choosing only the absolutely perfect outfits for the photo shoot to launch your online shopping site.”

  “They’re all perfect.” Summer shrugged. And reopened the doors. Customers were browsing at the front of the shop. They’d make their way back here eventually, and she didn’t want them to miss out on what might be the exact outfit they needed. “Forever Summer is my boutique, after all. It’s quite reasonable to assume everything in here is perfect. I have impeccable taste.” She posed with a seersucker beret on one raised finger and a ruched blue silk scarf trailing onto the floor from her other hand.

  Giggling, Chloe said, “Stow the fake snooty-diva talk. You can’t put everything in here in the photo shoot for your new sales page. You’ve talked all your friends into posing, but we’re not coming back to do it every week. You get one day. Seven looks per person.”

  “You’re very rigid about the rules.” Not just today, either. This was a long-running argument. One that reminded her, yet again—damn it!—of Riley.

  Chloe had always been a turn-in-her-homework-on-time student. Never ditched a class for the sheer fun of it. And that was before the horrific event that changed both their lives. That turned Chloe into a battened-down, near-shut-in. And sent Summer running into the wind to try everything life had to offer. Happily, Chloe falling for the dreamy Griff had led her to peel back her protective shell. Summer, on the other hand, didn’t intend to change.

  Not ever.

  Most certainly not for a man. No matter how spectacular his skills between the sheets.

  “They’re your rules!” Chloe’s blue eyes bugged out in frustration. But that happened so often during her conversations with Summer that it was easy to ignore. “You laid them out in the marketing plan for this launch.”

  “My rules? Means I can change them.” There had to be a few perks to being in charge, right? To make up for working twelve-hour days and stressing about an expansion Summer didn’t entirely know how she could possibly handle by herself? Stress that didn’t allow her the time to daydream about the man who couldn’t be more wrong for her but kissed like a sex god.