Page 8 of Holding Out

“First,” Becca said aloud, “I would need to have sex.”

She sighed.

She got the bedding and stepped into the dark living room, colliding with someone.A short, terrified shriek escaped her.The someone felt like a wall of muscle and smelled ofGriff, and he grabbed her arms to steady her.

“Sorry,” he said.“I left my phone on the kitchen island.”

“Oh, it’s you.”Her heart was pounding, two-thirds from being scared into an early grave, and one-third from the effects of Griff up-close-and-personal.

He was still holding onto her arms.His hands were warm.And strong.She obeyed an impulse that came from nowhere.“I was just going to watchThe Princess Bridebefore bed.You want to stay and watch with me?”

“What, like now?”He let go of her arms and stepped back.

Damn, she thought.The offer had just popped out, but he wasn’t into it, which made her—weird and pathetic?

He tilted his head and looked at her curiously.Not like he thought she was weird and pathetic.More like ...like he’d never quite seen her before, but she was coming into focus.It was a nice feeling.

He shrugged.“I mean, I don’t have anywhere to be.If you aren’t too tired.”

“Nah.”She shrugged.“I’m wired to the gills, to be honest.”

A little bubble of excitement, which had no right to be there at all, formed in her chest.Probably better to pop that sucker before it exploded in her face.She shouldn’t have made thePrincess Brideoverture, but now that she had, she should definitely keep two feet of couch space between them, send him home, and go to sleep.

That would happen anyway, because she and Griff had known each other for two years and if he’d had theslightestinterest in making a move on her, he would have done it ages ago.Instead, he’d always treated her like Alia’s little sister, and she was sure that her PG movie selection was going to firmly root her in that territory.

Even so, the dangerous, NC-17 idea she’d had earlier raised its snaky little head and hissed enticingly at her.

Shut up, she told it.

But it didn’t.

3

The woman on the couch next to him smelled so good it waskillinghim.Some girly scent like vanilla.He didn’t think it was fair that women used food scents on their bodies.It made him think about licking them even when he knew better.

And he definitely knew better than to lick Becca, even if she did smell like a cupcake.The thought made him remember their winning streak in Taboo and he smiled.

His other problem was that she was just far enough away that they weren’t touching, but close enough that he could feel her warmth, which meant the skin all down the side of his arm was lit up with awareness.And not just his arm, if he was being honest.Pretty much his whole body.

He had no idea how this had happened.How watchingThe Princess Bridehad somehow morphed into a sexual minefield.

He’d been on his way to get laid.He had a plan.Buy himself a drink.Survey the bar.Buy the prettiest girl there a drink, or two.Ask her about herself.Listen.Tell her how beautiful she was.Ask if she wanted to go somewhere else.And so on.

Instead he was watching Inigo Montoya cross swords with the six-fingered man and thinking about a little swordplay of his own.

He told himself that as soon as the credits rolled, he was going to jump to his feet and get the hell out of there.

But then the credits rolled, and he didn’t move.Becca got up, turned on a lamp, and sat down a little farther from him on the couch.It was theoretically a safe distance.It did stop the buzz that had been leaping between her skin and his, but now he could see her, and she was extra pretty in the low light.

And he still didn’t get up.Instead, he sought around for small talk.

“Hey.You still working at that salon place?”

“Yeah.Well, sort of.Julia’s Salon and Day Spa.”

“Sort of?”He raised an eyebrow.

“The building got bought and they raised the rent.The owner can’t afford to stay there, so she’s going to close that business and semi-retire to Bainbridge Island, open a smaller salon there.So—” She sighed.“I’ve got to find a new job.”

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