Page 38 of Inviting Trouble
His voice was gruff. “Just tell me what it is.”
“I’d rather show you.”
“That’s not a good idea.” But his hot gaze said otherwise.
“Sure it is,” she said gamely. Like this was all just fun and games. Like her heart wasn’t in her throat.
“Mad,” he said gently. He cleared his throat and gazed out at the dance floor. “You’re special. I would never treat you like that.”
“Treat me like what?”
He met her eyes with a pained look. “You deserve better than me.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head slowly. “One day you’re going to meet some great guy who can give you everything you deserve.”
She put a hand on his arm, needing to get through to him. “I know what I want.”
His jaw clenched tight. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I won’t break,” she said quietly.
He stared at her for so long her heart swelled with hope. She could tell he was letting that sink in, considering what it meant. That she could handle him.
Someone clanged on glassware. “Gather around for cutting the cake.”
Park inclined his head. “Better get in on the cake before your brothers finish it off.”
Mad stood there for a moment, torn between wrenching disappointment and very motivating aggravation. She met his eyes directly. “I’m coming for you, Park.”
~ ~ ~
Park stood near the front of the circle gathered around Claire and Jake cutting the wedding cake. Not that he cared about cake. He just needed to get away from the sleek heat of Mad doing her damnedest to entice him. The photographer got in close as Jake and Claire cut into the cake, both of their hands guiding the knife. He tried to focus, but his mind kept tripping back to Mad.
Mad in that slinky black dress pressed against him.
Mad with adoration in her eyes, believing him to be a better man than he ever could be.
Mad coming for him.
That hit him in a double whammy—heart and groin—as his brain translated a very different meaning. It was one thing to deny his own attraction, near hell to deny hers too. The temptation to cross that line battled with his need to keep her from getting hurt.
His gaze drifted across the circle to where Mad stood with her friends. He found it hard not to notice her. He’d spent most of his life making sure she was okay. Even when he was away, he checked in on her, checked in with Josh too, who spent the most time with her. He kept space between them the rest of the night. It was the only way he could think of to keep his hands off her. As soon as the reception ended, he headed back to his room upstairs.
Once safely inside his room, he stripped down to his undershirt and boxer briefs and flopped down on the bed. He turned off the light and threw an arm over his eyes as if that would banish Mad from his mind. Next thing he knew a vision of a younger Mad flooded his brain. The night of his going-away party.
The night she wore his blue flannel shirt with a ripped revealing shirt underneath.
The night he first realized Mad was going to be trouble for him.
Everyone had said their goodbyes and gone to bed. He’d settled on the sofa, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, knowing he was about to leave the only place that had ever felt like home. He was eighteen and it was time to prove himself as a man. To make his dad proud. An hour passed while he stared at the ceiling, and then he heard her soft footsteps padding down the stairs. They had a full house, but she was the only one with soft footsteps. Her brothers and dad were heavy footed.
He closed his eyes, pretending to be sleeping.
“Park,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond. Not going there. Not noticing her. Not touching her.
