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“I fell asleep.” She tried to take a breath to calm down the racing of her heart. She glanced up at his concerned face and instantly regretted it, dropping her gaze back to the button. She couldn’t look him in his eyes and talk to him about this. She never wanted to talk about what happened. Her face burned. “I was watching TV and apparently it didn’t hold my interest so I fell asleep. Or maybe it was the glass of wine. The cable box automatically turns off if no one changes the channel and then the TV shuts off. I didn’t know you’d be bringing someone home.”
“It’s not your fault.” His hand rose and she automatically flinched, worried he’d touch her and she didn’t know how it would feel. Did she want him to touch her? Would it feel different? Would she like it? Her brain couldn’t stop spinning. But then he stroked his hand down his beard. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Habit. My older brothers picked on me. I always got the two for flinching.” She grabbed the afghan and balled it up on her lap. “Honestly, I’m not afraid of you.”
Frankly she was terrified, but not of him, by whatever her insides were currently doing. Did she want him to do that to her? Bend her over the counter and. . . . Her cheeks flushed with heat and that small pulse between her legs ached.
Even though she wasn’t watching his eyes, she felt his gaze roam over her like a physical caress. Her chest kept rising and falling and she couldn’t get her heart to calm down. This was physical attraction, right? He was gorgeous and well-built; it made sense for her to primally want him. Surely, this was a temporary attraction and it would go away by the morning.
“Good.” He stood.
She couldn’t stop herself from looking up at him. He seemed distracted and confused. His blue eyes met hers and once again his gaze pinned her in place. The moment stretched and she swore she could hear her heart thundering in her ears as his gaze dropped to her lips. A breath escaped her as she thought about his lips pressed against hers. Did she want him to?
“Jonah,” called the woman from his room, breaking the spell.
He closed his eyes and when he opened them, the heat in them had vanished. He was just Jonah again. “Good night.”
He turned and walked toward his bedroom. Lacy stood and hurried toward the bathroom. He paused and she accidentally clipped her side with his elbow. She almost fell into the wall, but he grabbed hold of her arms at the last minute and steadied her. Her mouth dropped open as she gasped at the heat of the contact. His hands tightened on her arms. Her heart stopped.
Just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he released her. He disappeared into his room with his woman, shutting the door softly.
She closed her mouth and shook off the weirdness flowing through her. Her arms still burned from his touch. She had no idea who got the point for that interaction. Neither of them seemed to win.
* * *
What in theholy hell was the racket this morning? Lacy struggled to untangle herself from her blankets. Eyes still closed and hair doing its normal morning bird’s nest, she found her doorknob and headed toward the sound. Arms stretched out to stop her from running into the counter.
Her fingers rammed into solid flesh. She patted the warm skin a couple of times to try to determine what it was. The noise stopped.
“Too loud,” she said, still not one hundred percent with it. She tapped the solid skin in front of her. Part of her wanted to press into the warmth. “Coffee.”
A dark, low chuckle preceded a hot cup of coffee pressed into her hand.
“Thank you.”
She wandered away, opening her eyes to follow the floor to her spot on the couch, and nursed her coffee addiction.
“Does she do that every morning?” a woman’s voice asked.
“So far.” Even through the gravel of his voice, his amusement registered somewhere in her brain.
“She’s a feral little kitten, isn’t she?” The woman sounded amused as well.
Good, be amused. Coffee was life. In the morning, it was the only thing that mattered.
Jonah didn’t respond, vocally at least. Lacy felt like hell in the mornings and her brain didn’t function properly before at least one cup was down her gullet. A habit she’d developed in high school, because her second crush worked at a Starbucks. She cuddled into the corner of the couch and continued to take sips of her life-giving drug of choice.
When she had enough to open her eyes, Lacy pushed the hair out of her face. She looked over the back of the couch and met the curious gaze of the brunette sitting across from Jonah at the counter. Her brain still wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Something niggled in a corner of her mind, but when she turned to Jonah, her brain short circuited again.
Athletic pants hung off Jonah’s hips. His chest was bare and Lacy swallowed before she returned her gaze to the woman. Her fingers tingled remembering his warm skin beneath them.
“Well, good morning.” The woman smiled and Lacy resisted the urge to hiss at her like the feral cat the woman thought she was. “I’m Candy.”
Of course, she was. Tall, leggy, beautiful Candy. Just the type of girl who would get someone like Jonah. Not even offering a nod to the lady, Lacy drank more coffee. Jonah leaned against the kitchen sink, drinking his smoothie. She glared at the smoothie.
For a second, she thought his lips tipped into a smile at her, but then it vanished.
“I don’t think you’ll get much from her this morning,” Jonah said. He winked at Lacy. “She had a late night.”
