Shit. She hadn’t known that. “Yeah.” Sara nodded, hating the heat she could feel blooming across her cheeks. “That’s what we were watching. In his, uh, room.” Why had she said that? She couldn’t even be honest about what room they’d been in, for cripes sake? Too late now. “He has the better TV,” she added.
Kim rubbed her injured leg, grimacing. “His TV’s the same size as yours.”
“Oh yeah, but he’s got a nicer…screen. And fluffy pillows. Mine are all ratty.” Sara fought not to groan. Oh God. Could I be any more pathetic? Or less believable?
Her friend gave her an odd look and didn’t say anything further. Brad’s eyes, however, were doing enough talking for both of them. And what they were saying would’ve involved a lot of swear words, she would wager, had there been an audio soundtrack.
Brad eased around Sara and helped Kim to her feet with the innate tenderness that attracted her almost as much as his Defcon-level sex appeal. “Can you put weight on your ankle?”
Kim tried and shook her head. “Ouch, no. Hurts.”
“Okay.” He focused on his sister while Sara took Kim’s other arm. “Guess we’re headed for the hospital.”
Spending the night in the ER with his sister and his almost-lover was not how Brad had expected the evening to go.
Like the trooper she was, Kim waited without complaint for two hours for them to attend to her sprained ankle and barely even moaned in the backseat of his truck as they ventured to the all-night pharmacy to fill her prescription for pain meds. Once they were back home, they set her up on the couch with ice cream and a stack of novels, along with the TV remote. The sprain was bad enough she’d get a day or two off from work and wouldn’t be getting off the couch often for the foreseeable future. Which meant any nocturnal activities would either need to be kept to a minimum, or they’d have to invest in some gags, since he’d recently learned Sara was a screamer.
Hell, if he didn’t get to have all of Sara soon, he’d be a screamer too.
She kept shooting him wry looks, as if she knew he’d sported a hard-on for the first hour they’d been at the hospital. Hearing people hacking up lungs and seeing them shuffling along hallways dragging IV poles had killed the last of his desire, but now that he was following Sara up the stairs, her heart-shaped behind twitching with each movement, he had to give praise for his cock’s resiliency. It sure was bouncing back.
At the top of the stairs, she turned and held out a hand. He looked down at it and then up at her, unsure what she was offering. Sex? Companionship? Some kinky brew of the two?
His expression must’ve revealed his confusion, because she stepped closer to touch his chest. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Let’s,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm. She laughed.
Her other distinguished boyfriend-types probably would’ve said something like, “Let me find my smoking jacket.” He wasn’t distinguished, and he wasn’t her boyfriend—yet—though he was about to start his campaign for that title. Why pretend he only wanted a few furtive clutches with her when he already longed for so much more?
At the threshold of her bedroom, she gave him what he considered her doctor face. “Just to sleep, okay? Kim will probably be up all night, and I don’t want to press our luck.”
He pushed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and tried to control his temper. “Why are we doing this again?”
Playfully she walked her fingers up his abs. “Have you forgotten already?”
“Not that.” He snatched her hand and pressed his lips to the center
of her palm. “I mean the whole lying thing. Do you really think my sister’s that much of an ogre that she’d begrudge us a little happiness? Or do you think it’s hotter to run around in secret?”
Hurt flashed in Sara’s big brown eyes, and he wished he could snatch the words back. “Look—”
“I’m not sure what sort of impression I’ve given you. Obviously not a very good one if you think I’d create artificial drama to make things ‘hot’. I told you, I like it here.” She opened her mouth as if she intended to say more, then shook her head and walked into her bedroom. And started to strip.
Yeah, that would definitely help his concentration.
To assist his synapses in functioning, he focused on the small cluster of watercolor paintings on the wall opposite her bed. The artwork featured different birds at the sanctuary, and their colorful plumage offered a bright spot in the room. Almost as bright as Telly’s equally gorgeous feathers, currently fluttering as he charged around his cage.
Something had set him off, probably their edgy voices. Sara had told him her bird hated arguments. So did he, unless he saw a good reason to fight. As far as he was concerned, they didn’t have one.
Brad waited until Sara rounded the bed to walk toward her closet before he wandered over to Telly’s cage. He’d stayed in the living room for the last few days while Sara was sick, but now that she was feeling better, she’d insisted on bringing him back. Brad slipped his finger between the bars, and as usual, Telly barely spared him a glance. He ignored everyone but Sara.
Since his mistress had just slipped back into her nightgown from earlier—that happened to be silky, blue, and short—Brad definitely understood Telly’s fascination.
After spending a long moment gulping down the sight of Sara’s attire, Brad resolutely faced Telly again. “I know you like it here,” he said in his most conciliatory voice. “We like having you too. Us being together has nothing to do with that.”
“That’s because it’s new. You forget I’m the queen of soured relationships.”
He looked back at her as she slipped into bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Her ample chest, attractively revealed by her low-cut nightie. “I’ve had a few too. Including a marriage, in case you’ve forgotten.” He couldn’t help his irritation any more than he could help staring at her breasts. Her disgusted exhale drew his gaze to her face, though that noise could’ve been from his focus on her cleavage as much as the reminder about his ex-wife. Not his fault she was so damn hot. “I’m just saying, I’m not new to the game, babe. I know things go bad. I also know if you start out assuming they’ll go south, you’ll usually get your wish.”