Best Man With Benefits (McCade Brothers 3)

All right, she couldn’t reach the entryway light without getting out of bed, and she might not have enough time to get over there, flip the switch, and jump back into bed looking casual and relaxed before he came out of the bathroom. The nightstand light was too small to make much difference either way. The standing lamp had a switch on its cord. If she stretched her arm, maybe she could—

The lock on the bathroom door clicked as the knob turned. Okay, don’t panic. Maintain the pose, just stretch a little farther. Hurry. Her fingertips brushed the cord, made a grab…and missed.

The bathroom door opened.

Gravity tackled her and dumped her onto the floor.

Ohmigod! So much for seductive, unless Logan had a thing for Humpty Dumpty. Of course he was at her side in an instant, all careful hands and concern, but the only thing she could think of was the sight she made, facedown on the low-weave, with rug burns on the heels of her hands. She started to push up onto her knees, but Logan got a grip on her upper arms and in one smooth, seemingly effortless move, lifted her and plopped her down on the bed. The tie around her waist failed in the face of all the movement and her robe gaped precariously.

The instinct to hide a part of her that had been the bane of her existence since puberty asserted itself, all the stronger because Logan crouched in front of her, his eyes basically level with her chest. She scrambled to pull the front of her robe together. He did, too, and their hands tangled for a minute.

His long, capable fingers seemed to burn right through the terry cloth. She inhaled sharply, from mortification, but also the pure, unadulterated thrill of the accidental contact.

His fingers stilled. “Sorry.” Slowly, he lowered his hands and let her do the honors. He occupied himself smoothing the robe down over her legs. She re-tucked and retied her robe, but couldn’t help noticing that his crouched position did all kinds of interesting things to his robe. The front hung open to show a smooth expanse of bronze skin and a sculpted groove been his pectorals that came from having amazing musculature and a BMI of zero. The bottom of the robe formed a vee between his parted thighs, but left a shadowy question as to whether he wore anything underneath.

“No, really, it’s my fault. I’m sorry I’m so”…horny…“clumsy.” She pushed her hair back with a shaky hand, and hoped if he noticed he’d assume the fall left her less than steady, and not the feel of his palms running down the fronts of her thighs and over her knees.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, until an exasperated inner voice spoke up. Stop acting like a bobblehead. Use your words. “Yes. Of course. The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Is that what you were aiming to do? Give the carpet a bounce test?”

She fought back the urge to say, I was aiming to give you a bounce-test. “If you must know, I thought it was bright in here. I was trying to turn off the lamp without getting my lazy butt out of bed.”

“Ah.” He reached over and turned the light off, and then looked at her. “That better?”

The “better” sent a puff of breath along the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. The shape of his lips, their smoothness juxtaposed against the rough texture of his five o’clock shadow. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Uh—hic!”

Good God, the hiccup blasted out of her like a bazooka and reverberated in the otherwise silent room. She covered her mouth with her hand and stared at him in horror.

The corners of Logan’s eyes crinkled and the groove beside his mouth appeared. “Tell me something, Sophie.”

“What?” She said the word quickly, to avoid another cataclysmic hiccup.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?”

She licked her lips again and rubbed the tip of her nose, which was tingly and numb at the same time. “Not that much.” The hiccup that followed her statement was much more contained. She wasn’t even sure he heard it. “I’d love a little more.”

He rose with the grace of someone who never found himself on the wrong side of the laws of physics, and crossed to the cabinet where the champagne sat in its Beaver Creek–emblazoned ice bucket. He took the bottle and a plastic bottle of water supplied by the hotel. Then he disappointed her by handing her the water.

“Hey…hic!”

He toasted her and then disappointed her even more by settling into the oversize chair nearest the bed and resting his feet on the ottoman. “Give me a chance to catch up.”

They sat in silence for several moments. Uncomfortable moments where she frantically searched her mind for something…anything…to talk about. She was about to resort to the weather when another massive hiccup exploded from her lungs and practically shook the room.

“Oh, goodness,” she slapped her hand to her chest. “Excuse me.”

He pointed to the bottle of water in her hand. “Down that, or I’m going to be forced to scare you.”

She gulped down half, swallowed, and swiped her fingers over her lips to catch a stray drop. “You might be surprised to learn I don’t scare that easily. Ask Colt…or Reed, or Brock.” She gestured for the champagne bottle and he handed it over. “Which one of us was first to dive into the river from the high branch of the big oak tree that grew along the bank?” She swigged the champagne directly from the bottle, and then pointed the neck at her chest. “Me. Who got the garter snake out of the shed while those big, tough boys screamed and ran like scaredy-cats? Me again.” She punctuated the statement with another drink.

He held out his hand, and she passed the bottle over. “I had no idea you were such a thrill-seeker.”

He was teasing her, but not in a mean way, and she sensed a glimmer of admiration in those gray-green eyes of his. Then he tipped his head back to swig the champagne. The movement of his throat as he swallowed captivated her. Would he scream and run if she told him he was the thrill she sought right now? “I have a wild side.”

“Clearly. So tell me, little Miss Wild Side, why does a woman who stares danger in the face without blinking get the jitters at the prospect of being a bridesmaid?”