Real Men Will (Donovan Brothers Brewery 3)

“I left her a message this weekend, asking what was going on between her family and the brewery. When she called today, she said her brother had broken into the brewery and she was being dragged into it because of Jamie. She said Jamie had given her name to the police because she slept with him once and then refused to see him again.”

“That’s a pretty amazing lie. But what does that have to do with you lying to the police? You’re not even involved in this.”

“She asked me to tell the police—if they just happened to call—that we’d had this discussion months ago, right after the break-in, before the Kendalls were even suspects.”

“Ah. I see. And you didn’t want to go along?”

“Of course not! Why would I do that?”

Eric shifted, his foot sending a pebble sliding across the blacktop. “Because you must hate me. And you probably think we’re not very nice people.”

“I don’t think that. And I don’t hate you.” She shook her head, trying to sort through the anger she felt at him. “Look, I know it’s just a name. It doesn’t change what happened. And yet…it does change it, doesn’t it?”

He put his fists on his hips and looked down at the ground. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Not the…” His gaze rose to watch her past his lashes. “Not what we did. I wouldn’t take that back. But the other. Because I don’t want you to regret that night. It kills me that you do.”

Did she regret it? Despite her anger, she knew she couldn’t. That one night with Eric had been a revelation. Her whole adult life had been dedicated to helping women find sexual fulfillment in their lives, any way they—legally—could. She’d studied sexuality and anthropology along with women’s issues in college. She loved learning about the complicated formula of societal mores and personal preferences that helped to form each woman’s experience. She understood it all deep inside her heart and mind. And yet she couldn’t translate all that useless information into sexual satisfaction for herself.

She couldn’t relax. And she couldn’t trust. And despite the orgasms she’d fought for tooth and nail, she’d never once been able to lose herself in the experience. Until Eric.

Some chemistry writhed between them. Something like a spark, but so much more vibrant and powerful than that.

“I don’t regret it,” she finally said, the words drifting away into the midnight blue of the evening sky.

Eric tipped his head as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I don’t regret it,” Beth repeated a little more loudly. And it was the truth.

“No?”

No. She’d do it over and over again, if she wasn’t afraid she’d get lost in it. In him.

“You’re…” He moved closer, shrinking the space between them from two feet to one. “You didn’t have to call me, after what I did to you. You owed me less than nothing. Thank you for being kind.”

She started to shrug, but his hand reached toward her, his skin the color of a shadow in the rising dusk. But it felt warm as daytime when his fingers touched her cheek.

“And thank you for not regretting that night.”

Beth forced herself not to turn into his hand. Not to rub against him like a cat. But she let herself close her eyes and feel his skin on hers. Her nerves danced. Her breath fluttered in her chest like birds’ wings.

She thought he shifted closer. Thought she felt his breath touch her mouth. She held herself still and did not surge toward him, which was the only concession she could manage after her earlier disgust with him. Don’t throw yourself at him. He doesn’t deserve it. No matter how good he smells. And how—

His lips touched hers. His fingers spread along her jaw and tilted her face just enough that their mouths fit perfectly together. Beth sighed, her lips parted and then she tasted him.

Memory flooded her body with all the grace of a crashing wave. She was halfway into a pitiful whimper when light exploded around them and Eric jerked away.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

Beth just blinked like a deer caught in the headlights. Bright headlights. She touched her fingers to her lips, breaking the spell, and finally realized what had happened. “The parking lot lights,” she whispered. “They’re late.”

Eric shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at the pole that stood right in front of Beth’s car. They were directly in the middle of a bright pool of light.

“I’ll have to adjust the sensors,” she finished weakly.

“You’d better.” He managed a smile. “Before you scare the hell out of somebody else.”

Beth realized she was still pressing her fingertips to her mouth and dropped her hand. “Do you think I should call the police?”

“Um…huh?”