Page 72 of My Best Friend's Mardi Gras Wedding

She could change her mind, of course.She could roll over to him, kiss him, run her hand over his abs, and ask him to undress her.He’d do it.She was ninety-nine percent sure.

But did she want to go back to Iowa, to the good, hard-working men in her small town, with memories of a hot night in a mansion with a playboy bartender who would talk dirty to her in a sexy Southern drawl?

That was hardly fair to them.

She’d want to be thrown over their shoulders.She’d want to wear a hot red dress that made them look at her hungrily.She’d want them to kiss her passionately in the middle of a room full of people.She’d want them to tell Andrew that they were taking her to bed and they were going to have breakfast together and that Andrew could just fuck off.No, Josh hadn’t said that in so many words, but he’d implied it.

None of the guys at home would ever tell Andrew any of that.

She could never wear that dress in Elton, Iowa.There was absolutely no occasion for it.

And her father would be mortified if anyone kissed her in public, not to mention throwing her over their shoulder.

She heard the water running and felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

From running water?What?She pulled her pillow over her head again and groaned.How could running water be sexy?He was brushing his teeth.Other guys would do that.They’d run water in the next room while she waited in bed.They’d come and join her under the comforter with minty fresh breath.

She heard the door open and she moved the pillow to look over at him.

He smiled at her as he crossed to the bed and she realized that in that moment, Josh Landry had just ruined watching other men come to bed.

Crap.

Then it got even worse.He started to unbutton his shirt.

Look away.You should look away.Don’t let him ruin watching any other man take his shirt off.

She didn’t look away.

The slow reveal of tanned, smooth skin, light brown hair, and deliciously defined pecs and abs made her feel a tight, hot coil tighten in her stomach.She wasn’t sure she was breathing.She couldn’t be distracted by something trivial like taking oxygen into her lungs.

Holy…

The guy was ripped.His abs were absolutely drool-worthy.His muscles rippled mouthwateringly as he shrugged his shirt off and tossed it toward the chair in the corner.

He was right beside the bed now, looking down at her.His expression was hard to read.He looked faintly amused but also pained.He stopped, blew out a breath, then leaned and switched off the lamp on the bedside table.It had been the only light in the room other than the faint glow that trickled through the window from the moon and lights at the front of the house.

It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust so she missed him shedding his pants and kicking them toward the chair.That was probably for the best, but she couldn’t deny the stab of disappointment.She felt the mattress dip, however, as he sat down and then twisted to lie back, and she scooted closer to the opposite edge of the bed.She wasn’t sure she could handle having even his big toe touch her.

Josh tugged on the comforter and shifted a few times, getting comfortable.Then everything was quiet.

Tori lay still, for some reason trying to quiet her breathing and not wiggle.Maybe he fell asleep quickly.Maybe he snored.Maybe he wouldn’t say anything else charming or sexy or sweet.

“So, tell me about Fiona.”

Crap.He’d said something sweet.

“You don’t really want to know about my goats,” she said lightly.

“I do, actually,” he said.

The dark seemed to make his voice huskier.Or maybe it was her imagination.“Really?”

“I do,” he said again.“I like hearing you talk about your passions.And it will distract me.”

“Distract you?”

“Thinking about how sweet you are will help menotthink about how fucking good you smell or the fact that you’re lying over there in your pajamas.”

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