Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight 2)

“We’ll see. But I promise I’ll ask.”

“Great. I think the four of us will have fun.” Kim rose and handed Sara one of the bags of groceries.

The storm clouds had already cleared from Kim’s eyes. She really did just want everyone to get along. To be one big, happy, sexually charged family.

Well, maybe not the last part.

It wasn’t as if Brad lived across town. He slept feet away from her own bed, separated by a few flimsy walls. If they…came together, she’d have to face him every day across the toaster. And she’d be damned if her actions caused her to leave before she was ready.

Sara sighed and juggled the paper sack, noticing the box of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies sticking out of the top. She grinned. Her best friend knew her too well. “It will be fun,” she agreed, renewing her vow not to let anything ruin the good thing she had going.

She could handle Brad O’Halloran.

Brad didn’t check his messages until he returned home later that night. He’d skipped painting the porch—and watching Sara sashay around in next to nothing—in favor of heading down to Harley’s bar. He’d spent most of the evening there, drinking a couple of beers, watching the game. A few times he’d caught women giving him the eye, which upped his mood even if he had no intention of pursuing any of them.

It wasn’t as if he collected phone numbers for rainy days, but he couldn’t say he minded attention occasionally. He knew he wasn’t the most gorgeous guy around. Fine by him. He’d never wanted to be some pretty boy who was afraid to get his hands dirty. He spent every day up to his elbows in grease and didn’t bother with his appearance beyond regular haircuts.

He reached back to brush his fingers over his raggedy ends. Speaking of which, he needed to take care of that soon.

Long hair, car grease, nights spent shooting pool and drinking longnecks. No wonder Sara wouldn’t look at him twice. They were as different as—

He didn’t even have an analogy for how different they were. She would. She always had a smart comeback or a sassy comment. Any guy unprepared around her would be left in the dust.

Rubbing his eyes, he fumbled through his texts. And saw Sara’s name.

When you get home, stop by my room.

His palm immediately dampened. How annoying. She made him feel like a teenager again, completely unsure of his moves. Worse, like he didn’t have any moves. Those girls at the bar didn’t make him feel like that. Yet he kept returning to the same damn well again and again.

Maybe it was the challenge. Maybe it was that her brain was as sexy as her amber eyes.

Or maybe it was the bikini.

Brad grinned and pocketed his phone as he stepped down from his truck. The bikini definitely weighed in.

He entered the house without making any attempt for quiet, forgetting it was heading toward eleven. His sister never stayed up too late unless she had a guy over. Since there were no strange cars in the drive, he guessed she was alone.

Sara never brought men home. After her assertion today about how much she’d seen and done—not a subject he wanted to dwell on overmuch—he had to think she was keeping her male friends away from the house intentionally. The question was why. It was her place too, for as long as she was staying there. She could have anyone over she wanted. He couldn’t guarantee the guy would leave in the same condition he’d arrived in, but she could’ve invited him anyway.

Except she didn’t.

If he were an optimistic sort, he’d think

that meant maybe his preoccupation wasn’t one-sided. But she’d tossed enough disdainful looks his way he had to conclude she didn’t want to step on his sister’s toes.

She wasn’t shy. If she wanted him, she would’ve gone for it. For whatever reason, the sex bug that had nipped him in the ass the first time she’d smiled at him and announced herself as Dr. Carmichael hadn’t bitten her as well. And that was too damn bad.

He swung by the kitchen on his way up to Sara’s room and snatched two golden apples out of the basket on the counter. One thing he and Sara had in common was a fondness for midnight snacks, though their usual choices were greasy and laden with calories. But he didn’t really feel like digging around for a bag of chips or searching through his sister’s chocolate stash. The apples would suffice.

After a moment’s debate, he headed to his room first to change into his well-worn pajama pants. It was the same thing he wore when the three of them got together for movie night, and Sara had never blinked twice. Of course he’d never been alone with her in her room late at night either.

First time for everything.

He palmed the apples and headed down the hall, unsurprised to feel his heart thudding in his chest. Anticipation rose inside him, hot and irrepressible. What would she be wearing? Probably her usual bedtime outfit of boxers and a snug T-shirt. In theory, completely unsexy. On her, they made him stone-hard in seconds.

She had one hell of a sweet body. Long legs, nice breasts. Some guys might have seen her as average, but those guys sure weren’t him.

Brad knocked on her closed door, briefly wondering where his sister was. Not that it mattered. This would be a quick chat, not some sort of loud, erotic sexfest.