Page 9 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

“You’re an addict.”

“Flatterer.”

He closed the door with a grin, and she relaxed against the seat, enjoying the rush of hot air blasting her. Since she was the best friend not on kid patrol, she was going to have to bust out the phone tree to let everyone from the shower know that Gemma was okay, starting with Gemma’s close friends, Ryan Phillips and Callie Jacobsen. It was going to be a really long night.

Eric got in and blew on his hands. “Shit, I say I wouldn’t ever live anywhere else, and then the cold weather hits, and I think Hawaii sounds nice this time of year.”

“I like the cold, as long as I’m able to stay home in my fleece-lined leggings and comfy sweater.”

“I can’t wear leggings. My thighs are too big,” Eric joked.

The image of big, bearded Eric Henderson strolling around in tights sent Gracie into the giggles. Soon, she could hardly breathe, she was laughing so hysterically.

“Really? The image of me in skintight cotton is that funny?”

Suddenly, her whole body sagged and her mirth turned into gut-wrenching sobs. When Eric’s large arms wrapped around her and pulled her across the middle console, she buried her face in his chest and let it all go.

“Hey, don’t cry. You can laugh at me all you want.”

Gracie would have been suspicious of his sweetness if his embrace didn’t feel so damn good.

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I keep crying all over your shirt.”

“I really don’t mind, Gracie Lou.” His gaze locked on hers, sending her heart pounding into overdrive at the warmth in his dark eyes. “You should know that I’d do just about anything for you.”

* * *

Shit! Fuck! Fuckity shit fuck!

Why in the hell had he saidthatto her? This wasn’t the time for confessions. Her best friend was sick. Hell, she had a boyfriend. And Eric was over her.

The air around them was so charged, he could practically see the sparks. The only thing that saved him from making a bigger ass of himself and kissing her was the blast of her cell phone.

She broke their eye contact to rummage around in her purse for her phone. When the phone was free from the confines of her purse, he realized what the song was and made a face.

“‘I Melt’? Really?”

Gracie blushed. “It’s Darrin, and I happen to like this song.” Without giving him a chance to respond, she answered the call. “Hey sweetie.”

Eric turned in his seat and started the car. It took all he had not to gun the engine; good old Darrin probably drove a Prius.

“Yeah, Gemma had to go to the hospital. They think she might be developing preeclampsia, so they’re watching her overnight.” Gracie cleared her throat. “No, it’s fine. I understand it was a lot to ask. Yeah, I’ll see you later. Okay, bye.”

Eric kept his hands on the wheel, determined not to say anything else. He just lost his head whenever he was around her. Gracie didn’t speak either, and the only sound was the windshield wipers as it removed the snowflakes falling faster and faster.

When he pulled up behind her car thirty minutes later, she finally said, “Thank you for driving me to the hospital and everything. I forget sometimes that you can be nice.”

The teasing fell flat, though, and he just nodded.

“Bye, then.”

She seemed to be waiting for something, but hell if he knew what she wanted. “Later.”

When she huffed, he turned to look at her, only she was already slamming out of his car. “Whatever.”

Whatever?

He let her go, a dark cloud settling over him. He needed to get over this infatuation with Gracie McAllister. He just had no idea how to quit her.

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