Coming Apart at the Seams Page 9

  He was busy looking for a parking space when he saw Teagan exit the building. She hurried toward his SUV, and he put it in park so he could get out and open the door for her. Before he could unbuckle his seatbelt, she opened the passenger door and jumped in.

  He turned toward her, intending to say hello, and she leaned over at the same time. Her lips grazed his—soft, smooth, and luscious—before she gasped and jerked away.

  Clenching his fists on the steering wheel, he fought the desire to cup his hand around her head and pull her mouth back to his. His lips tingled, and he tasted peppermint when he licked them.

  She touched her fingers to her mouth briefly before dropping her hand to her lap. Her eyes were wide, and the look on her face could only be described as horrified.

  If he’d ever wondered how Teagan would react if he pushed the boundaries of their friendship, he now had his answer. He told himself he didn’t care because there were thousands of women who wanted to kiss him.

  That’s right—thousands.

  “I’m sorry! I was aiming for your cheek!” she exclaimed, talking so fast her words almost tripped over each other. “I was t-t-t-trying to ki-ki-kiss your cheek like I always d-d-do!”

  He stared at her, feeling as if he’d been thrust into a weird alternate reality. For a moment, she had sounded just like him.

  He could tell that Teagan was appalled by their almost kiss, but he didn’t want the whole day to be ruined. He needed this time with her. It was hard not to see her for weeks and weeks, and this outing was going to have to sustain him for a while.

  “Go ahead.” He turned his head and pointed to his cheek. “P-p-p-plant one on me.”

  Laughing softly, she leaned over and dropped a quick peck on his cheek. She drew back, grabbing the seat belt and clicking it in place.

  “Let’s go. I love to sail. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

  He’d been looking forward to something all week, too: seeing her. He didn’t give a flying fuck about sailing. Still, he was glad they were doing something she would enjoy.

  Shifting the Escalade into drive, he headed toward the marina at a moderate speed. Now that Teagan was here with him, there was no need to rush.

  After several minutes of silence, he glanced toward her as she stared out the window, tapping her lips with the tips of her fingers. He wondered why she wasn’t talking. Whenever they drove somewhere, she usually chattered the whole way.

  “T,” he said, just to get her attention.

  He’d fallen into the habit of calling her by her first initial, just like her brothers.

  But you’re not her brother, a little voice inside him whispered.

  He sure as hell didn’t need the reminder. He and his cock were well aware of that fact.

  Dropping her hand, she shifted in the seat so she could look at him. “I talked to my mom last night. I told her we were going sailing, and she told me to say hi and give you a hug for her.”

  Nick smiled. Kate was a hugger. In fact, all the O’Briens were huggers. It was how they said hello, good-bye, and almost everything in between.

  Teagan continued, “She’s renovating the kitchen, and I swear she spent forty-five minutes telling me about her new cabinets. She’s decided to go with a color called ‘fresh sage,’ which is basically light green. I asked if she was sure that green cabinets were a good idea, and she told me that I’m not adventurous enough.”

  He chuckled. “Go on,” he prompted.

  “I told her that I’m adventurous where it matters: the bedroom.”

  He jerked his head toward her, certain she hadn’t said what he thought he’d heard. Her blue eyes held a wicked little glint, and her glossy lips tipped up at the corners.

  “You did not.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was joking, but it didn’t really matter. Her words had already sunk into his head and settled into his groin.

  “I did, too,” she replied, nodding emphatically.

  “And?”

  “After a few moments, during which I envisioned her mouth opening and closing like a pet goldfish, she said, ‘Good. I’m glad to hear it.’”

  He guffawed. Teagan’s laughter joined his, and the sound of it filled his chest until he felt weightless. Just like an astronaut floating in space.

  * * *

  “I think I’m in love,” Teagan said.

  Nick choked, spewing a mouthful of chardonnay across the table. He hastily deposited his wineglass beside his plate and grabbed his napkin, pressing it to his mouth. As he fell into a coughing fit, Teagan reached over to pat his back.

  Had he choked because of what she’d said? If so, she was definitely offended. Was it really so hard for him to imagine her in a romantic relationship? Just because she hadn’t been on a date in a while didn’t mean she was a loser in the romance department.

  Did it?

  She promised herself then and there she would start dating again, even if it meant she had to be the pursuer. The men in Cambridge better watch out.

  After a few moments, Nick stopped coughing and dropped back against the striped seat cushions that ran along the sides of the boat. He cleared his throat loudly and inhaled.

  “W-w-w . . .” He stopped and cleared his throat again. “With?”

  “Letty, of course.”

  “Letty,” he echoed.

  Teagan nodded. “I’ve never had such delicious food. Not even at the best five-star restaurants. If she were here, I’d have to kiss her.”

  Nick stared at her. There was a glint in his eyes she’d never seen before, one that made her stomach feel shaky, although she didn’t know why exactly.

  She turned her head to gaze around the boat. When Nick had mentioned sailing, she had envisioned a smaller vessel. Apparently, he didn’t do small, because the boat was at least one hundred feet in length and so luxurious it deserved the description “yacht.” In addition to the open deck, it had a saloon, a covered dining area, and a private sleeping compartment.

  For a moment, Teagan let her imagination run wild. If she and Nick were lovers, they would have devoured Letty’s delicious food and then retreated to the bedroom to devour each other.

  They would have popped open the champagne Letty had included, and Teagan would have poured it on Nick’s chest, letting it pool in his navel. She would have sipped the liquid from his well-defined pecs and sucked the remaining droplets from his flat brown nipples before licking her way down his chest to nibble his hard abs . . .

  “More wine, miss?”

  She looked up, her fantasy dissolving as the steward came into focus. Boo. I hadn’t reached the best part yet.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She and Nick sat in the deck’s open dining area, which was shaded by the yacht’s second level. The bench seats were designed in an L-shape, and a table was bolted to the floor in front of them. He had claimed the short side of the L while she sat on the other. They were close enough that their legs and feet touched under the table.

  She could barely withstand the temptation to drop her hand under the table and place it on his upper thigh. If they had been lovers, she would have bypassed his leg and gone right for his crotch, maybe even sliding down his zipper and easing her hand inside to stroke his penis.

  The thought made her antsy, and she accidentally bumped his knee for the tenth time. When she shifted to give him more room, she knocked over his wineglass. He wasn’t able to slide from the banquet seat fast enough to avoid it, and the golden liquid splashed into his lap.

  With a gasp, she grabbed her napkin. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, dabbing wine from his crotch. His flat-front khaki pants were soaked, like he hadn’t made it to the restroom in time.

  “I’m so clumsy,” she babbled as she continued to rub vigorously at the wet spot. “I have been my whole life. You’ve probably noticed. I think Q
uinn and Cal got all the hand-eye coordination.”

  His hand shot out and gripped her wrist. She looked up into his green eyes, which seemed to glow against his bronzed skin. Very slowly, very deliberately, he removed her hand from his lap and placed it on the table. Holding his napkin against his crotch, he scooted out from behind the table and stood up.

  “Maybe there’s a hair dryer around here, and you can use it to dry your pants . . .”

  He stalked into the saloon, presumably to track down the steward, and she collapsed against the cushions, covering her face with her hands.

  Why did she always humiliate herself around Nick Priest? Was it some kind of cosmic law that she had to look and act like an idiot in front of him?

  Wasn’t this morning’s accidental kiss enough embarrassment for one day? She cringed at the memory of how stupid she’d acted in the SUV. Their lips had barely touched, and she had totally overreacted. She’d been so worried that Nick would think she had done it on purpose, that he would somehow figure out that friendship was only a small part of what she felt for him.

  She never wanted him to know. He’d feel sorry for her, maybe even pat her on the head like a lovesick puppy, and never want to hang out with her again.

  Gah! She had regressed into a teenage girl.

  Teagan grabbed her wineglass and took a huge gulp before tilting her head back and draining it. Then she rose, put on her sunglasses and floppy hat, and headed toward the bow of the boat.

  Leaning against the rail, she tried to lose herself in the beauty of the open water. It was a lovely day for a sail. The sky was clear, and it had warmed up enough for her to remove her lightweight jacket.

  She had been so excited when Nick had asked her to go sailing. She knew he had limited free time during the season, and she’d been flattered that he wanted to spend one of his days off with her.

  She’d told him that she had been looking forward to it all week, but she had purposely made it sound as if she had been excited about sailing. The truth was she’d been looking forward to spending time with him. She didn’t care what they did as long as they were together.

  Being with Nick always made her feel good, but it also was a little unsatisfying. It was like having a gourmet meal but being denied dessert.

  Teagan got most of Nick, but not all of him. She knew the minute he dropped her off at her condo, he’d be on his phone with one of his harem to schedule a time and a place to meet for some hot sex.

  She tried not to think about it, and most of the time, she was successful. But sometimes, when she felt especially wistful, she let herself think about what it would be like if she got to have her dessert and eat it, too.

  Footsteps sounded behind her, and a moment later, Nick joined her at the rail. She peeked at his crotch to see if he’d been able to dry his pants, but he had untucked his shirt, and she couldn’t tell without being obvious that she was looking.

  She glanced up, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring. Mirrored aviator sunglasses covered his eyes, and he held two huge chocolate sugar cookies. He passed one to her along with a paper napkin, and she studied the large sugar crystals sprinkled on top of it.

  Most people preferred plain sugar cookies or chocolate chip, if given the choice, but they didn’t know what they were missing. Homemade chocolate sugar cookies were similar to Oreos, without the cream filling, and they were soft and delicious.

  “Did you ask Letty to make my favorite cookie?”

  He nodded, leaning his hip against the rail so he could face her. The sun shone on his blond hair, and it looked as if he had a halo around his head.

  Behold the angel Nick Priest.

  “How did you know they’re my favorite?”

  Shrugging, he took a big bite of his cookie. She did the same, moaning a little when the rich cocoa flavor hit her tongue. She wished broccoli tasted that good.

  As she chewed, she wondered when she had mentioned that chocolate sugar cookies were her favorite. Because Nick was so quiet, she had way too much opportunity to prattle on and on about stupid subjects. At one time or another, she’d probably blurted out her favorite brand of tampons, and he had likely committed that fact to memory as well.

  Nick was so different from most guys she knew. He paid attention.

  “You’re not a normal guy.”

  “Excuse me?” he replied, his dark gold eyebrows arching above his sunglasses.

  “Except for you, I truly believe all men have attention deficit disorder, even my dad.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Oh, yeah?”

  She frowned. He thought she was joking, but she wasn’t. Unlike other men, Nick listened to her with complete and total focus. He never seemed to tune her out the way Jason always had.

  Her ex-boyfriend had liked to talk about the things that were important to him, but he’d never shown much interest in the things she cared about. She hadn’t realized how self-absorbed he was until they’d broken up. Spending time with Nick reinforced the fact that Jason had been an ass.

  “I’m serious,” she insisted. “Men don’t listen when women talk. Jason didn’t listen to me. He didn’t care about what I had to say or what I thought.”

  Nick’s laughter abruptly stopped. Moving closer, he swiped his thumb across the corner of her mouth, brushing cookie crumbs away. The touch of his finger against her lips sent a tingle down her spine.

  “He’s an idiot.”

  “For not listening to me?” She laughed mirthlessly. “Or for not wanting to be with me?”

  “Both.”

  Chapter 11

  Nick’s phone buzzed with a text message. After pulling on his T-shirt, he grabbed the phone from his open locker before sitting down on one of the wooden benches in the Colonials’ training room.

  He’d run routes for five exhausting hours, and he was eager to head home. He was starving, and Letty had promised lasagna.

  The text was from Teagan: Free for some Friday night fun?

  It was the first time he had heard from her since he’d dropped her off at her condo after they had gone sailing nearly a month ago. The Colonials were playing at home on Sunday, so he was free to hang out with her if he wanted to.

  “Hey, Priest, what’s up?”

  He looked up, seeking the source of the question. He zeroed in on Andy Duncan, a rookie running back who could tear through 300-pound linebackers as if they were made of paper.

  “Did you get some good news?” Duncan asked, pointing to Nick’s phone. “You got a goofy smile on your face, dude.”

  He shook his head, and the other man gave him an assessing glance before sitting down next to him on the bench. With his bright red hair and freckles, Duncan was a grown-up version of the kid on the cover of MAD magazine. He was cocky, and he liked to run his mouth, but damned if Nick didn’t like him anyway.

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  Because Teagan wants to spend time with me.

  “It’s a chick, right?” Duncan asked, slugging him on the shoulder with his meaty fist. “Is she hot?”

  Hell, yes, Teagan is hot. So hot I nearly combust when I’m near her.

  “Does she have big tits or tiny, bite-sized ones?” Duncan continued, bringing his hands toward his chest to outline a woman’s figure. “What about her ass? I love a woman with a soft, pillowy ass.”

  Nick squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about Teagan’s luscious breasts and her round ass. Wasn’t it bad enough he dreamed about them?

  “Have you fucked her yet? Is she a screamer?”

  He stood abruptly and shoved his phone in the front pocket of his Rileys. He couldn’t listen to this anymore.

  Grabbing his gym bag, he said good-bye to Duncan by slapping him on the back of the head and made the trek to his Escalade. Nick popped the locks, threw his bag in the back, and jumped in the driver’s seat. But instea
d of starting the SUV right away, he leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

  He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to hang out with Teagan anymore. They always had a good time when they were together, but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his hands to himself.

  He’d told Letty all he felt for Teagan was friendship. But that was a lie. A huge, giant whopper.

  He wanted Teagan—wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. Part of it had to be the fact that she was forbidden fruit.

  If she weren’t his best friend’s sister and his friend, too, he would have done anything and everything he could to get inside her pants. If she were anyone else, he would have fucked her nine ways to Sunday by now.

  He had been fighting his desire for Teagan for months. At first, he’d tried to deny it, and when he couldn’t do that any longer, he’d tried to ignore it.

  But ignoring it only worked for so long, and at that point, he’d pushed the desire down deep, determined never to act on it. That didn’t stop his subconscious from dreaming about her almost every night, though. He regularly woke up with an erection so hard it could cut diamonds, and she was the one he thought about when he pleasured himself.

  I’m teetering on the edge of fucking disaster.

  He groaned, recalling their sailing trip. She hadn’t even noticed what her touch had done to him—more proof she saw him as a friend and nothing more. And even if Teagan were interested in getting naked with him, it would be a huge mistake for them to get involved. She had “relationship” written all over her. Hell, it was practically tattooed on her forehead.

  She was made for marriage, babies, white picket fences, and minivans, and he wasn’t cut out for that kind of life. Other men might want those things, but he didn’t.

  All the experts said communication was the key to long, satisfying relationships, and he could barely speak. He couldn’t imagine any woman who would be willing to put up with a guy who was minimally coherent under the best circumstances and completely mute under the worst circumstances.