She shivered from the arousal that coursed through her at his gruffly spoken promise.
Oh, God. She wanted him to kiss her. But as soon as she tilted her head, angling her lips toward his, he shifted, his mouth moving closer to her ear.
“I won’t be satisfied until I’ve kissed you everywhere,” he breathed against her cheek. “And I do mean everywhere, Reilly.”
Reilly grabbed his sleeve in an attempt to keep herself upright. Her knees were weak, and adrenaline was flooding her system. She’d wanted to hear him say things like that for so long. For years, she’d been infatuated with this man. She’d never allowed it to get in the way of their friendship or other relationships she’d tried on for size, but every time she broke up with someone, her focus came right back to him.
And here they were. Both single. Both obviously interested. Why was he fighting this?
Reilly decided not to press him for more. As much as she wanted him, she wasn’t that girl. And she never would be. Call her old-fashioned, but she wanted him to make the first move, and she’d already done her part in showing him she would be receptive.
“Fine,” she whispered against his cheek. “If you don’t want me, I’m sure there’s someone else who—”
The last words died on her tongue because Brady crushed his mouth to hers. His hand curled behind her head, the other across her lower back, holding her in place as he took a deep breath and then licked along the seam of her lips. Reilly didn’t resist. She couldn’t. Brady McCord was kissing her, and it was so much better than she’d ever dreamed. And boy had she dreamed about it.
She whimpered, leaning into him and sliding her tongue against his. She was still fisting the sleeve of his shirt to keep her balance, but she wasn’t going anywhere. He had one hand still palming her head, the other banded around her waist, and just like that morning, there was no mistaking his arousal. It was hot and heavy between them.
“You don’t tempt a starving man with filet mignon and then threaten to take it away, darlin’.”
She was filet mignon? Wow. She would’ve settled for being a New York strip, but that…
Someone cleared their throat. Reilly remembered they were standing inside the gingerbread house in the middle of Walker Park. Families were out to enjoy the festivities, which meant there were likely kids watching.
Before she could step away from Brady, he took her hand and turned her so that she was in front of him. He guided her past the parents who pretended not to notice them making out while their two-year-old admired the Christmas tree.
Brady’s fingers twined with hers, and he curled them inward, holding her hand as he steered her out of the gingerbread house and around to the side.
“You’re dangerous,” he said, his eyes smoldering as they peered into hers.
“I could say the same about you.”
As they stood there, her hand still in his, Reilly knew he was going to come up with an excuse as to why that could never happen again. And it wouldn’t be too hard considering she was related to his favorite excuse—his best friend Donovan.
But before he could, she scrounged for as much courage as she could muster and decided to throw him a curveball.
“If you never want to kiss me again, that’s fine,” she said, keeping her voice level. “But if you use my brother as your reasoning, I can promise you, Brady McCord, itwillnever happen again.”
“No?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t live at home. I don’t rely on my brothers, my sister, or my parents to pay my bills. I’ve got a job—no, Iownmy own business because my daddy entrusted me to operate the store because no one else wanted it. So don’t think it’s up to Donovan who I do or do not kiss.”
With that off her chest, she stood there and waited for him to make a decision. She only hoped he couldn’t hear the heavy thud of her heart. There was no doubt it was going to crack right down the middle if he rejected her now, and since he was holding her hand, she couldn’t very well cross her fingers and hope to God he wouldn’t be an idiot.
So she waited and hoped she was on Santa’s nice list this year. And while she was hoping, she decided she hoped Brady McCord was on the naughty list because, damn, wouldn’t that be fun?
***
Reilly was right.
Deep down, Brady knew she was a grown-ass woman, as she so eloquently put it. She could make her own decisions, but she didn’t understand that it wasn’t about seeking permission from her brother. That wasn’t the point. It was about not betraying that kind of trust with his best friend. Donovan expected Brady to respect his family, and to do that, Brady had to walk away from this.
There was no denying he wanted her. More than oxygen at the moment. But what sort of man would he be if he simply took what he wanted without regard to the consequences or boundaries? His mother had raised him better than that.
“I’m sorry, Reilly,” he said softly.
Based on her expression, that was the last thing she expected him to say. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. Twice, she opened her mouth, probably to blast him, only to close it again.
It took about ten seconds as the information registered in her brain, but then the sassy woman he deeply cared about returned, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.
