The Wedding Gift by Cara Connelly Read Free Book Online Page A

tiny shower stall, he quickly took matters into his own soapy hand, and for ten humming seconds let himself fantasize about the lovely girl in his bed, palming the breasts clearly visible through her tee, sucking the pink nipples that jutted against the fabric.
    Then he shoved Jan ruthlessly out of the picture, pressed his forehead to the wall and spread the twerker out on the bar, forcing his brain to focus on her—only her—while he savagely finished himself off.
    All of which should have bought him at least an hour of peace. But no. The instant he was done with the twerker, she vaporized.
    Jan and her transparent T-shirt filled his mind’s eye again.
    He toweled his head hard enough to leave his scalp tingling, then confronted the mirror. You can do this. Just lay there. Think about puppies and kittens, and don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her. And do not —he leveled his no-prisoners stare— under any circumstances, fall asleep.
    Bad enough if Jan discovered he was a pig who couldn’t lie in bed without panting for her. But if she learned he was a pussy who couldn’t close his eyes without falling into a screaming nightmare?
    Well, that he couldn’t live with.
    Stiffening his spine, he summed up the game plan: No looking. No sleeping. Puppies and kittens.
    He made it to the fridge without looking, got a beer, and stood staring blindly at the TV.
    Now to get into bed. Unfortunately, it was jammed against the wall. He’d have to crawl up from the bottom, keeping to his side, which should be easy since Jan took up, like, eighteen inches at most . . .
    A pillow hit him in the back of the head.
    â€œMick, I won’t bite.” She grinned when he glowered. “I know it’s weird, but come on, it’s me .”
    Which was the whole problem in a nutshell.
    Still, on some level, she was right. It was her , his best and oldest friend. Sure, they’d never shared a bed before, but they’d shared practically everything else. They knew how to hang out. They’d been doing it for decades. In fact, having Jan around had made a girlfriend superfluous. Except for sex, she was all the company he needed.
    Falling back on old habits, he pointed his bottle at her. “Snore, and I’m shoving you on the floor.”
    She put her nose in the air. “I don’t snore.”
    â€œWe’ll see. You’ve been warned.” Crawling up beside her, he stacked his pillows, leaned back against them, and made himself focus on the screen.
    See? It’s no different than any other night. Zombies and beer. We could just as well be on my couch.
    A walker took it in the eye. Blood spurted, gore oozed. “I wish we had pizza,” Jan said, predictably.
    Mick’s shoulders eased. He scrunched down, got comfortable. The episode played out, and they watched another. Had another beer. Talked at the TV. Analyzed Rick and the gang like they were based on Shakespeare instead of a comic book.
    And they laughed. The best night of his week so far.
    Then he glanced over just as she lifted her arms to sweep back her hair. Her T-shirt went taut, her nipples stood out against it, and desire roared back to life, closing his throat in the middle of a sentence.
    She lowered her arms, but it was too late. Testosterone flooded his veins. His cocked hardened and throbbed.
    She glanced over, her mouth forming words, but he couldn’t make them out over the rushing of blood in his ears.
    This was why he was no good for her. She was Snow White, and he was all seven fucking dwarves, looking for action every fucking day of the week.
    What he needed was a girlfriend as oversexed as him, but it was a lost cause. He’d found a few women who could keep up, but none he wanted to spend time with long-term.
    He always ditched them to go and hang out with Jan.
    Jan, who’d never shown the least bit of interest. Oh, she liked hanging out with him because they shared a