Famously Engaged by Robyn Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

fingertips played over her temples before drifting through her hair in a barely-there caress, the backs of his hands circling her ears. She gasped at the spear of heat that arrowed though her when his thumbs and forefingers closed over her lobes and tugged in a gentle rhythm.
    “Ssh,” he said against her lips. “Relax for me.”
    She nodded in a daze, her head angling as her mouth moved over his instinctively. Her invitation for him to deepen the kiss went unanswered, but he didn’t pull back, and the freedom to explore his mouth was enough to satisfy her. Being in control and sampling only the pleasures that appealed in her current state of exhaustion was like heaven on a stick.
    When he slid one hand down her back and pressed her hips forward, her eyes drifted closed and she sighed with pleasure.
    His body’s honest response was exactly what she needed, a confirmation that she wasn’t alone in this, despite them both being almost catatonic at six in the morning. Snaking her arms around his neck and leaning into him made more sense than anything had in a long time. Weeks of sleeplessness caught up with her, and even kissing was a stretch. She nestled her face against his chest and inhaled, letting the subtle hint of cologne that clung to him muddle her senses. “Mmm, I can smell the ocean.”
    He eased away from her and smiled. “Listen to you, calm and relaxed and ready for sleeping. And I didn’t need to hold your hand.”
    She extended her hand to him, needing to maintain contact until sleep claimed her. “You’re not off the hook yet.”

    ...

    Jake stared at sleepy-eyed temptation in a chicken suit. He was dead tired, but being tortured by proximity he couldn’t capitalize on would ensure he didn’t sleep now, either.
    Beth would, though.
    He slipped his hand into hers. “You’ll have to direct me to your room. I wouldn’t want you sleeping in the laundry just
    because your fiancé mistook one door for another. I’ll stay close until you drift off, but you should plan to wake up alone.”
    “I try not to make plans that aren’t in my best interests.” She tugged on his hand. “This way.”
    To his surprise she provided a commentary as they walked down the hall. “Both sides of the house are exactly the same, and they’re both freezing at this time of the night. First door, dining rooms. The tables are long enough to stretch out on but I always seem to wake up with a crick in my neck. Second door—”
    This one he knew. “My room.”
    The quick dip of her brows would’ve been easy to miss, but somehow he’d known to look for it. Beth eased her hand free and moved forward to the next set of doors.
    “Third door, formal sitting rooms,” she said without any enthusiasm. “On your left, club sofas, which aren’t great for sleeping on unless you’re three feet tall. But here on the right there’s a fire place and a really comfortable modular lounge suite that’s about twice the size of my bed…” 
    The hopeful note in her voice propelled him to her side. He nudged her shoulder with his. “What makes this couch more comfortable than the fold-out bed I slept on earlier?”
    “This one comes complete with a super-soft chicken.”
    He chuckled and opened the sitting room door. “Another opportunity for a farmyard headline.” He walked past her and struck a match beneath the haphazard pile of wood in the fireplace, then sprawled in the center of the L-shaped couch, stretching his legs out and folding his arms behind his head to gauge the comfort of his newfound bed. “It’s good, but there’s no sign of a chicken.”
    Beth walked toward him, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Not all chickens are instant.”
    She produced a handmade quilt from inside the ottoman and offered it to him. He tensed and closed his eyes, his fingers fisting in the soft fabric as he clutched it to his chest. When he and his brothers were small, they had watched weekend cartoons