Resisting the Bad Boy (3 page)

Bent over the way she was, she almost toppled onto her head when a voice called out from above.
“What are YOU doing here?”

Abby shut her eyes and shivered. Not because she was soaked and freezing her ass off. But because she was suddenly very hot. Tear-your-clothes-off broiling. And the dangerous spike in her temperature had everything to do with that low, raspy growl. Or rather, the man behind the growl.

Connor.

She dragged in a slow breath and let the heat of his deep voice warm her like a luxurious fire for a beat…until it occurred to her—a few brain-foggy seconds later—that his clipped question earlier had been absolutely dripping with disdain.

Startled, she turned around to confirm her suspicions.

Sure enough, he was positively glaring at her, his lips curled in a contemptuous sneer. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to introduce myself to you again,
Abby
. What happened? Did you get lost on the way to Brian’s? Or did you follow the yellow brick road here thinking it was paved with gold?”

Her jaw dropped. “Ex
cuse
me?”

“Honestly, after how Brian’s gone on about you over the years, I never figured you for a brother-hopper. I can’t believe you’d do this to him. What was the big plan? Sneak back onto my property and attempt to seduce me in that trampy get-up?” His eyes dropped mockingly to her drenched chest, which was basically naked under the now transparent fabric plastered to her body like shrink wrap. “Did you really think
that
was going to tempt me enough that I’d forget you’re dating my brother?” He scoffed coldly and drilled her with a glower. “Let’s face it, honey, you’re not exactly the wet t-shirt type.”

Trembling with an equal amount of outrage and hurt, Abby shot him with the most lethal look she could muster before scrambling back to the porch and grabbing her book bag on the fly. Without another word—though she had a few choice ones in mind—she took off down the driveway.

Away from that colossal asshole.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

C
ONNOR WATCHED ABBY
flee his lot, upset and clearly mortified. While a part of him felt like a jerk for what he’d said to her, just picturing how bummed Brian would be about all this was enough to send those guilty feelings packing.

It’s not as if she was the first woman to show up at his house half-dressed and looking for a good time. But she was the only one he’d ever had to turn away because of his brother.

Running off with her tail between her legs was the very least she deserved for screwing with Brian. Connor just hoped Brian wasn’t too serious about her yet. The fact that they’d been best friends for so long surely complicated things. But no matter. He’d be brutally honest and help Brian nip the doomed relationship in the bud before she broke his heart down the line.

There would be no backseat-brothering on this one.

He’d done enough of that to last a lifetime.

Standing idly by while Brian had limited his life to just plain existing for the past year had been torture. But it had been a cakewalk compared to watching him spend a decade waiting for a horrible illness to slowly kill the love of his life.

Connor wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

It had been heartbreaking to witness. When the dementia specific to her disease had begun stealing everything that was sweet and good in Beth—along with all her memories of her husband and child—Brian had simply held her, whispering reminders of how much she was loved. Every day.

Honestly, Connor wasn’t sure he’d have been able to survive it had the roles been reversed. He still got chills thinking of the day he’d heard Beth’s slurred voice screaming for Brian to take Skylar and leave, let her kill herself to end it all.

Damn that disease. And damn the universe for this Abby fiasco on top of it all. Couldn’t it give Brian a break for a change?

“Uncle Connor? What are you doing home?”

Shit,
Skylar
. Had she caught the full frontal of Abby all slutted-up just now? With Abby being the closest thing to an aunt Skylar’s entire life—how the hell was he supposed to explain this without traumatizing the poor girl?
Damn that woman for putting me in this situation
.

“Why hello to you too, princess,” he tossed out casually. “I had a few hours free so I thought I’d hang out with you on your first day here.”

“Oh, cool.” She looked around. “Hey, where’d Abby go?”

Fan-frickin-tastic. “So you saw her here, huh? She wasn’t here long…she just stopped by to, uh—”

“She
left
?” A too-mature frown marred Skylar’s little face. “I told her to wait ‘til I brought back an umbrella for her.” Shaking out a butt-ugly yellow rain slicker, she pouted some more. “And she didn’t even take back her poncho!”

He did a double take. “What do you mean?”

“Abby lent it to me before we ran over here.”

Gulping, Connor felt cold hard shame starting to prickle his skin. “Abby ran all the way here in the rain with you?”

“Yeah, it started coming down right when I left school. She found me under a tree trying to stay dry.” Worried, Skylar surveyed the rapidly worsening weather. “Dad will totally kill me if she catches a cold this week with all her…
wait a sec
—” She swung a suspicious look his way. “Abby never leaves without saying bye. Did you say something to her?”

Smart girl.

Choosing to sidestep her question for the time being, he pulled out his smartphone and asked instead, “Do you spell Abby’s last name with two T’s or one at the end?”

“Two.” She raised a brow. “Why? Are you looking her up to
apologize
for something? If so, I have her cell number.”

He sighed. “I don’t think that’ll cut it. I think I need to send her a whole bunch of sorry-I-was-such-an-idiot flowers.”

“Holy moly, what did you say to her?”

Quickly texting a request for his assistant to order him the most extravagant floral arrangement she could find, he ignored his niece’s interrogation once again. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Abby lives would you?”

“Nope.” A slow smile hooked her lips. “But dad does.”

Silently, he unleashed a string of expletives and began estimating what the going rate was for bribing a kid nowadays.

It’d be worth it for the stay of execution by Brian’s hand.

“How the hell did you find out where I live?!”

Connor winced, but stood his ground atop Abby’s doorstep. Thankfully, the gigantic doorway-filling flower arrangement his assistant had purchased for him was allowing him to hide for a few precious seconds longer. Blindly shoving the flowers forward, he waited for Abby to take them.

But she didn’t. After a few moments of silence, he took a peek around them to see if she was even still there. She was.

And she was trying like hell not to laugh.

“Is this monstrosity for a funeral?”

Grateful for the buried humor he heard in her voice, he let out the breath he’d been holding and ventured with caution, “Depends. Are you going to kill me for what I said earlier?”

“Right after I maim your brother for giving you my address,” she promised sweetly, with just the hint of a smile.

He dropped the ridiculously heavy flowers onto the ground. “He didn’t. I asked one of my investigators at the firm to dig up your info. Brian doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Afraid to tell him?” she prodded with little sympathy.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

Leaning against the doorframe, she took her sweet time answering, “Nah, Brian will probably just laugh his ass off.”

That’s
what he was afraid of.

And clearly, the grinning imp darn well knew it, too.

Seeing her amusement at his expense ripen even more, he saw a brief opening and took a shot, “So are you going to put me out of my misery already and forgive me?”

“I don’t know. Did you apologize?” she countered.

Damn, she wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

“I’m…sorry, Abby. Truly.” The words were rusty and foreign in his mouth; they weren’t ones he used very often.

Suddenly, her smile dissolved into a look of remembered irritation. “Sorry for calling me a gold digging whore or for saying I was too fat to be in a trashy wet t-shirt contest?”

He reeled back as if bitch-slapped. “I didn’t call you fat! Good lord, you don’t really think that about yourself, do you?”

“Of course not,” she snapped.

“Good.” He wasn’t a fan of women who were constantly putting themselves down. “If you did, I’d tell you to go get some new glasses. Your body’s gorgeous.”

She bristled in disbelief. “I’m not some self-conscious girl in need of your validation, you big twerp. I
laugh
when my dress size stays in the double digits during holiday months; it means my friends and family put that much more love into their dishes that year. I don’t need false compliments by a guy who dates size zero models to feel good about myself.”

He shot his hands in the air like a good little gunfire target. “It wasn’t a false compliment. What I said back at my house was the lie—if any of it had been even remotely true, I wouldn’t have said it. I’m not a cruel person. The fact that I
did
say it meant it was the furthest thing from the truth, which made it a safe insult. Truth is, you were so unbelievably sexy in that wet t-shirt, I could hardly bear it.”

Even now, the lingering memory of how she’d looked with the soaked fabric plastered to her smoking hot body was more than he—and the fit of slacks—could bear.

She paused long enough for him to see about five different emotions flit across her face before she eventually landed on one…and exploded, “You are SO annoying! Are you really trying to turn an insulting, objectifying, insanely illogical comment like that into a half-baked compliment?!”

He grinned. “Is it working?”

“No!” But she couldn’t completely tamp down the smile that was obviously trying to escape.

She really did have a great smile.

Danger, Connor Sullivan, danger.
He was getting sucked in by her all over again. “So, where should I put these?” he asked levelly, picking up the flowers again to avoid looking at her. “Over on that table by the window?”

“And have it block all the light in my living room?” she laughed, opening the door all the way to let him in, seemingly unaffected by the electricity he felt buzzing between them. “I guess you can put it on the kitchen table; I’m pretty sure it’s sturdy enough to handle the weight.” She admired the colorful assortment as he set it down. “Thank you, Connor. They’re beautiful. Unnecessary, but appreciated all the same.”

“They’re entirely necessary,” he said gruffly, rejoining her in the living room, “I was way out of line.”

She lifted a shoulder. “You thought you were protecting Brian; I understand the compulsion, trust me.”

Brian
. The mental splash of ice cold reality was just as effective today as it’d been the other night. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he switched over to small talk, “Yeah, he’s one of the good ones. Have you two been dating long?”

She replied very…carefully, “What has Brian told you?”

“Nothing at all, really. I was actually surprised to see you with him at the party.” Stunned was more like it. Seeing Brian with any woman other than Beth had been an altogether surreal experience. “You look cute together.”

Okay, now the shifty woman looked like she was chewing on an old wad of gum. His eyes narrowed.
Had
he been right in his accusations earlier? Maybe she’d just used Skylar as her cover. A very effective one. “How serious are you about Brian? If you don’t mind me asking.”

With a quick glance at the clock, she evaded poorly, “Oh, look at the time. I’ve got a meeting to get to and I need to shower first.” She reopened the front door. Subtle. “Thanks for the flowers, Connor. I accept your apology, of course.”

Briskly ignoring his body’s response to the image of her in the shower, he caught her by the elbow and crowded her against the wall. “You’re hiding something. What is it?”

She shook her head in denial and suddenly, the warm scent of chocolate assailed his senses. His gaze dropped down to her lips. “Hot cocoa,” he murmured. So the empty mug on the kitchen table hadn’t been filled with coffee then.

Her response was barely a whisper. “I was cold.”

His blood fired. Imagining all the ways he could’ve helped warm her up nearly brought him to his knees. Tugging on her elbow once more, he pulled her body flush against his.

Jesus, every inch of her fit him perfectly.

Damn it.

“
I
’
M NOT POACHING
my brother’s woman,” he rumbled in her ear, his words a hot, rough brand against her skin.

Abby shivered, arched her neck at the sensation. No, of course he wouldn’t poach. Not Connor. She’d been hearing about Saint Connor for years now from both Brian and Beth. A bit of a man whore, yes, but an otherwise great guy.