Page 77 of Just One of the Groomsmen
He leaned over and brushed her hair off her face. “Promise me something?”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “Hmm?”
“Anytime you get this drunk, you come to my houseboat instead of going home.”
He would rather wrestle his willpower and know she was safe with him than worry about her alone in this state any day.
She yawned, her eyelids remaining shut. “Fine. But remember, I can take care of myself.”
He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Got it.”
Back in the day, he would’ve climbed in bed next to her, the way he had dozens of times before, not thinking twice about it. If he curled up next to her now, it wouldn’t be for extra warmth or minor cuddling, and he’d never be able to fall asleep.
Flash happily took the spot Tucker wanted, jumping on the bed and curling up next to her, and then he was jealous of his dog.
He carefully weaved around everything Addie had spilled on her way in and lay back on the couch. Every sigh, every moan, they all carried over to him, making it damn near impossible to fall asleep.
Eventually he managed to drift off, and no surprise, nearly every one of his dreams involved the woman who’d crashed into his house and taken over his bed.
Chapter Eighteen
A wet, rough tongue woke up Addie, heavy panting accompanying it.
While she’d been desperate for a kiss last night, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.
She feared opening her eyes would confirm the blips of memories flickering through her head had actually happened, but after another doggy kiss, she decided it was face reality or death by puppy breath.
Sunshine assaulted her eyes and she squinted as she pushed herself to sitting.
Flash barked like he’d been waiting years for her to wake up, and she scratched his head as she noted her surroundings.
The houseboat.
She glanced down. Sequined black dress.
Nope, not a dream.
She’d shown up at her best friend’s house and propositioned him.
With a groan, she dropped her head in her hands, then peeked through her fingers at the expectant white puppy she was clearly failing to impress.
“Where’s Tucker?” she asked, and Flash simply tilted his head. Not that she’d expected him to tell her.
Addie slipped out of the covers, padding past the remnants of last night’s poker game—empty beer bottles, crumpled bags of chips, and their trusty deck of cards.
That was where she should’ve been last night. Where she belonged.
Not in some ritzy club learning flirting tricks she could use to embarrass herself.
When it came to that sort of thing, she could embarrass herself plenty without hair flips and winks—oh holy crap, Iwinkedat Tucker. While I pawed at his bare chest.
His very nice, very cut, bare chest.
She ducked into the bathroom, started at her reflection, and tried to smooth down her hair. She used her finger to brush her teeth with toothpaste and then swished with Listerine until her mouth burned with a minty, bad-breath-destroying fire.
That’s about as good as it’s gonna get.
The scent of coffee tempted her toward the pot as soon as she exited the bathroom, and she helped herself to a mug.
