Trouble (Dogwood Lane 3)

He frowns. “You know, I didn’t have you pegged as a fun-sucker. But here we are.”

I can’t help but chuckle. His words are playful, his tone smooth and unassuming. But the heat in his eyes, the mischief lurking right behind his lashes, is anything but.

My chest rises and falls much quicker than I’d like, but there’s not a lot I can do. Every cell in my body tugs toward the man in front of me, and it takes all the restraint I can muster to stay cool.

“I’m a good sucker of fun . . . Don’t you say a word,” I say, wagging a finger his way. My cheeks heat at the opening I just gave him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play innocent with me. I saw your eyes light up like Christmas trees.”

A slow grin slips across his lips. “Oh, did you think hearing you say the words ‘fun’ and ‘suck’ was going to have an effect on me?” He shifts his weight, crossing his muscled arms in front of him. “You’re damn right it did.”

The other patrons’ gazes are shifting my way. I can’t even care. I’m too busy trying to figure out how to navigate being around Penn.

Diverting my gaze away from him, I spy Harper and give her a wave. “What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask.

“I’m having a beer with my buddy Matt. What about you?” His eyes twinkle with anticipation.

“I’m meeting Harper.”

“Just the two of you?”

“I think she’s meeting a friend or something,” I say. “I’m just here as the third wheel. Or fifth. Or whatever it ends up being.”

He sticks his tongue in his cheek. “I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that.”

I try to flash him a disapproving look, but he makes it impossible. The overt sexiness that seeps from his pores is mixed with a playful energy that makes it virtually impossible to not be entertained by his antics.

“You’re a handful,” I tell him.

“Two handfuls, thank you very much. Now come on and meet Matt.”

My heart skips a beat as I realize the toe I thought I was dipping into the deep end is suddenly my whole foot. And if I don’t watch it, I’ll slide right into that pool and drown faster than I can ask for help.

This is how it happens. One minute, you’re vulnerable to a smile. The next, you’re meeting his friends. Five minutes later, you’re in his bed, having the orgasm of your life.

I’ve gotta slow my roll.

Taking a step back, I shake my head. “No. It was nice seeing you, but—”

“Come on, Avery,” he singsongs. “I can’t have you walk in here and not introduce you. What kind of a gentleman would I be if I did that?”

I raise a brow. “You’re a gentleman?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Uh, no.”

His blue eyes are bottomless, and he knows it. He uses his long lashes and heavy brows to lure me in.

My gaze is held by his, almost caressed, and I feel it everywhere. The zip of his touch earlier today is still so fresh in my mind that I’m tempted to brush against him just to feel it again.

I watch the edge of his shirt ride up as he stretches, giving me a hint of the muscles lying beneath the light fabric of his shirt. The heat of his gaze puts me into a spot that’s as comfortable as it is not, and in lieu of fanning my face in the middle of Mucker’s patio, I blow out a breath.

I can’t take the bait.

“Are you coming or not?” he asks, lowering his voice. “You know you want to.”

Before I can come up with a response, a polite way of saying no, another man joins us.

“Who do you have here?” he asks before tipping back a beer. A headful of sandy-brown hair flops off his forehead as he moves.

“This is Avery,” Penn says.

There’s a hint of something in his voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. Penn’s friend raises his brows and holds back a grin.

“Avery,” Penn says, oblivious to our catch, “this is Matt Madden. Matt, this is Avery.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, offering a hand.

“Penn’s told me a lot about you,” Matt says, taking my hand and giving it a gentle shake. There’s a smugness to his tone that makes me curious.

I look at Penn out of the corner of my eye. “Is that right?”

“I didn’t say a lot about you. Matt is being a dick.”

“I beg to differ,” Matt says.

“How would that even be possible?” Penn asks me. “You didn’t tell me jack shit about you, even when I asked. So how would I know anything to even say? You didn’t even shake my hand, like you just did his. Just thought I’d point that out. Not that I care.”

I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I did with him when I first met him, to remind him of the ant bites on our legs as we tried to lie on a jacket he had in his truck. I shut it as quickly as I opened it.