“Have fun,” was all she said.
He jumped on the highway and drove a little too fast with the music a little too loud, hoping to leave no room in his thoughts for remembering the taste of Emma’s lips.
Even before he’d spun her around, he’d known kissing her was a big mistake. He hadn’t realized the mistake was actually colossal, though, until she started stroking the back of his neck and his body reacted with an urgency that led nowhere but to bed. Together. Hot and sweaty and breathing hard between the sheets.
He got lucky and found a parking spot near Jasper’s Bar & Grille and breathed a sigh of relief as he walked through the door. Men drinking beer. Pretty waitresses. Sports on the big screens. Sanity.
It was a little slow, which wasn’t surprising for a Wednesday night, so there were plenty of open seats at the bar where Kevin appeared to be holding down the fort.
“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” he said as his cousin set a beer in front of him.
Kevin shrugged. “Terry’s having one of those parties where the women all get together and one of them sells the others a bunch of shit they don’t need so she can earn a free salad bowl or whatever. Paulie wanted to go and I sure as hell didn’t, so here I am. How’s fake almost-married life treating you?”
“I kissed her.” He chugged down a quarter of the mug.
“Yeah, so? Engaged people do that sometimes.”
“I kissed her after Cat left the room. I didn’t kiss her because we were pretending. I kissed her because…hell, I don’t need to draw you a map.”
“When did that happen?”
Sean looked at his watch. “About a half hour ago.”
Kevin gave a low whistle. “She still sleeping on the couch?”
“Yes. And she’s staying there, too, goddammit.”
“Did she punch you in the face? Knee you in the balls?”
“No.”
Kevin grinned. “So what’s the problem? You want her. She can at least tolerate you. Get it out of your system.”
He was afraid sleeping with Emma wouldn’t get her out of his system, but get her a little farther under his skin, instead. “Bad idea.”
“Call it a fringe benefit.”
“She’s already pretending she’s in love with me. Throwing real sex on top of that could get it all mixed up in her head.”
“You worried about her mixing it up…or you?”
That was ridiculous, so he snorted and swallowed some more beer. He had no interest in settling down—signing his life over to somebody else so soon after getting it back from Uncle Sam—and he sure as hell wasn’t planting flowers until retirement age. Assuming he didn’t lose his mind and suffocate himself in a mound of mulch before then.
“You ready for Saturday?” Kevin asked.
“Hell no.” He didn’t even want to think about that.
Kevin had to move on down the bar, so Sean sipped his beer and stared at the television without really seeing what was on.
Emma had felt way too good tucked up against his body on the couch. She was warm and her body fit perfectly against his and the viewing angle had let him appreciate all too much how long and perfectly shaped her legs were. And the heat of her thigh pressed against his…
Sean knocked back the rest of his beer and set the mug out on the far edge, looking for a refill.
Kevin came back and refilled it. “Nurse this one if you’re driving home. If you have another, you’re staying upstairs.”
“I’ll nurse it. Why don’t you throw in an order of chili-cheese fries for me, too.”
He watched the game and ate his fries, making the beer last. Emma would probably be asleep by the time he got back, those amazing legs peeking out from the worn flannel shorts that wouldn’t have been sexy on anybody else.
Hopefully the long, icy-cold shower he was going to need wouldn’t wake her up.
Emma ripped the sticky note off the bathroom mirror and tossed it in the trash.
Sean didn’t have to worry about her rubbing the back of his neck again anytime soon. And he certainly didn’t have to worry about her wanting to get naked. Not with him.
If they were a real couple, she’d throw his pillow onto the couch and let his feet dangle over the edge for a change. It was pathetic how fast he’d come up with a lame excuse to run away just because he’d kissed her.
It was just a kiss. A great kiss, yes, but still just a kiss. She hadn’t asked him to marry her—to really marry her, of course—or told him she wanted to have his baby. A hot, steamy, toe-curling, bone-melting kiss between two single adults was nothing to run from.
But now he’d made a big deal out of it and everything was going to be even more awkward than it had been for the last few days.