Page 79 of Conflict
I DON’Tknow if it’s the magic of the wedding or the magnitude of the emotional tidal wave of the last twenty-four hours, but my heart yearns, just a little bit, for my own chance at love. At what my sister and Branson have. And the only person I want it with is Shane.
Our second night together only deepened our connection. The fervency with which I want—no, need—this man astounds me. Yet I no longer want to fight it. I want to give in. Jump in feet first, blindfolded, because I trust he’ll be there to catch me.
“You’re a vision,” a low, sultry voice whispers in my ear, interrupting my contemplation.
I jump in surprise, turning to see Bryan holding a champagne flute out to me.
“The wedding was beautiful, Lyss,” he says, his finger and his thumb coming to my chin and shaking it like I’m a little kid.
Oh, hell.
After last night, and through all the craziness of today, I’d completely forgotten all about him, buffers, or anything that’d keep me from Shane Wellington’s bed.
“You look surprised to see me, Covington,” he says, raising an eyebrow.
When my cheeks flush, understanding crosses his features.
He chuckles, giving me a pat on the shoulder along with a head shake. “What’d I tell you, kid? Resistance is futile when it comes to love. The heart wants what the heart wants, and our sexual organs are much the same.”
I choke on the sip of champagne I just took. “Did you just say sexual organs?”
He shrugs. “I figured, in this company,” he says, lifting his glass and gesturing to the wealth oozing from the venue and its current inhabitants, “it was safer than saying pussy and dick. Which, I’m guessing, I’m too late to stop you from succumbing to the latter.”
My cheeks flame at the memory of last night. If I’m honest, my mouth is also watering a little bit at the thought of a repeat performance.
Just as I’m about to retort, the dick in question walks up to us. I mean, Shane, not that he’s a dick… I just can’t stop thinking abouthis.
“Who’s this?” Shane asks, suspicion blatant on his face, his eyes frozen on Bryan’s crooked smile.
I clear my throat, swallowing a groan. I’d forgotten to tell Shane about Bryan. Hell, I’d forgotten about Bryan myself. And by the look on his face, Shane isn’t pleased.
“I, uh…” I stammer like a twit. I point at Bryan. “Um, this is my boss.”
At the same time, ever so helpful, Bryan claims, “I’m her date.”
I turn to glare at him.
“Bossanddate,” he corrects with an annoying grin. “And completely platonic friend.”
Shane coughs, drawing my attention back to him. His brow furrows, his eyes brooding. The lips I’ve come to love are held in a tight line. The way his jaw clenches gives me the urge to stroke his cheek in hopes of helping him relax. He apparently has the wrong idea. Inviting Bryan here to make Shane jealous? Yeah, it’s totally backfiring.
“I see.”
Two words I’ve come to hate.
Before I can explain, he turns on his heel and disappears, out of sight without a blink.
I stare after him, my mouth gaping, dumbstruck. I’m an idiot.
My “date” nudges me with his shoulder and nods in the direction Shane had gone. “Isn’t this when you run after him and tell him we’re just friends? I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend who pretends like we haven’t had explosive sex on several occasions and yet I just can’t seem to quit her.”
“Did you just Brokeback Mountain me?”
Bryan’s lips curve up into a grin. “If that’s not a sign of how far gone I am, I don’t know what is. Now quit stalling.”
I glance in the direction Shane stalked off, then look back to Bryan. “You’ll be okay without me?”
He raises his glass. “An open bar, gorgeous women, and good music? I’ll be fine. Go get your guy.”
