His goal is to stand firm
Len Thompson only wants one woman—his little sister’s best friend. But no matter how much he craves Janey Watson, keeping a physical barrier between them is his only choice, and if he can’t have her, he refuses to have anyone. When Janey announces she’s leaving town, all bets are off. Len decides it’s time to take—and give—everything he’s been holding back while he still has the chance.
Her gift is rocking his world
Janey’s been crushing on Len for years, but he’s never seemed interested in her. Until now. She’s not sure what triggered his change of heart, but, hell yeah, she’ll accept it. All of it. Every kiss, every touch, every mind-blowing orgasm. Working to meet the deadline for her move is not nearly as interesting as enjoying steamy escapades with the sexy mechanic she’s always desired.
Only it’s a relationship built on sand, and Len must finally choose—face his past or let their future crumble.
EXCERPT:
He’d expected a bit of an attitude, but the sheer flaming belligerence flashing in her eyes was a surprise.
Janey stomped across the concrete floor of the garage, jerking to a halt only inches away from him as she stuck a finger in his face. “You’ve got a shit-ton of explaining to do.”
“How’re you feeling this morning?” Len folded his arms across his chest, attempting to create a barrier between him and the glaring young woman.
“How the hell am I supposed to feel the night after all sorts of things happened I can’t remember? I mean, thank you for taking care of me after that jackass slipped me the drugs—I’m grateful, I really am. Katy told me you looked after me, but there’s a whole lot she didn’t know about. Am I right?”
She wasn’t beating around the bush. “You were a bit of a handful.”
“A handful?” Her volume increased, and she planted both fists on her hips. She was much smaller than him, but right then she seemed a towering bundle of fury. “What exactly did I do that made this seem like a good idea?”
She whipped off her T-shirt, and Len’s heart leapt into his throat. “Jeez, Janey, put your clothes on.”
She tucked the hand holding the shirt behind her back, pointing her free fingers like a gun at the printed words on her abdomen.
At least this time she was wearing a bra, which was a whole lot more than she’d had on the last time he had gotten up close and personal with the bold black marks decorating her skin.
“Len Thompson, you tell me right now why your signature is on my belly. Along with what looks like my handwriting saying Len + Janey 4ever.”
A distant rumble of voices grew louder, and Len glanced over his shoulder to see the staff room door opening. It was bad enough to have to deal with this, but he couldn’t allow anyone to see Janey half-naked in the middle of the family garage.
He turned back and braced himself. “I’ll explain everything, but not here.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere without some answers.”
Len gave up trying to convince her. Simply leaned over and planted his shoulder against her stomach, grabbed hold of her legs and picked her up. She squawked in dismay, but he ignored her complaining, heading for the exit at a rapid clip. He had them outside and tucked in next to the propane shed in no time, out of sight from anyone who might wander into the garage yard.
“Put me down this instant, you big lughead.” Janey punctuated her complaints by smacking her fists into his back.
“We’re not discussing anything in front of my family.” Len lowered her to the ground, careful she had her balance before letting go. He snatched her T-shirt from her hand and thrust it forward.
“Put your clothes on.”
Janey folded her arms over her chest, her chin rising defiantly. “Why is your signature on my body?”
“Because it was the only way to get you to stop…” Len paused, not because he wasn’t going to tell her the truth, but because there had to be a better way to say this than simply blurting it out.
In front of him, her defiance lessened and her bluster faded. “Damn, what the hell did I try to do to you?”
He couldn’t stop the smile that twitched his lips. “Not much more than anything you’ve tried before.”
“Shit.” Janey sighed, jerking her shirt over her head. “So. You got to take care of me while I was high, and I basically offered myself to you. Again.”
“It wasn’t all about sex,” Len reassured her. “You ran the gambit. You asked for a hug at one point, and when I gave you one, you started crying.”
She frowned, leaning back on the corrugated metal of the shed wall. “Crying?”
“You said I would never hug you unless you were dying. Then we had a long conversation about how you were not dying, and then you got really fascinated with your hands. Which somehow led into a conversation about how your mom would kill you if you ever handed in notes where your handwriting was that crooked.”
“Great.” She rolled her eyes. “Anything else I should know about?”
Nope. Not telling her, not even if she insisted. Some things he couldn’t say out loud without fucking dying all over. “Not really.”
She tugged at the bottom of her shirt, exposing a little of the sharpie markings on her belly. One brow shot up again, but she didn’t say anything. Just waited, expectantly.
Fine. It seemed this was going to happen, and Len couldn’t even feel remorseful about it. “After you’d had a shower—because you insisted you were being consumed by a million, trillion ants, you got a little…affectionate.”
Janey’s head banged on the shed wall. She closed her eyes and cursed softly. “Fab. What did I do? Try to give you a hickey?”
She honestly looked so upset by the whole situation Len didn’t have the heart to tell her all the details. Like how he’d had to go in the shower with her because he was afraid she wouldn’t stay vertical. And no way would he show her the scratch marks she’d left on his back. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t offended.”
“But for some reason I decided to do a semipermanent tattoo, and get you to autograph it.”
“You were rather insistent.”
She shook her head, regaining her feet as she moved away from the wall. “Well, thanks again for taking care of me. And sorry I was a pain in the ass.”
She tried to walk around him, but Len shot out his hand and caught her by the elbow. “I’ll come by your place around six.”
Janey’s brows shot skyward. “Hello?”
“For our first date. We can hit the diner for supper.” Maybe last night he’d had his arm twisted, but now that he’d wrapped his head around the situation, being together with her was all he could think about.
Being with her was all he’d ever wanted, really.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Janey shook her arm as if her feeble wiggle could make him let go. “I was out of it, and you pacified me. I get it. Don’t jerk my chain.”
“I’m not joking.” Len shifted forward, backing her toward the shed with his body. “Yes, you were high. But you said a couple things while you were flying that made a lot of sense.”
He had her trapped in position. His forearms rested on the shed, leaning in close enough she had to tilt her head to look at him.
“You’re serious? You want to take me on a date?”
Len stroked the back of his forefinger up her arm. Teasing gently over the edge of her T-shirt until he could draw his fingers along her collarbone. She was so damn soft. “That’s what the writing on your belly says. That you and I are going out. I signed it, and trust me, no matter how wild you were talking, if I hadn’t wanted to, I wouldn’t have agreed.”
Janey shivered under his touch. He rested his hand on her shoulder and was slowly brushing his thumb back and forth along the edge of her neckline. “This is insane, Len. I’ve tried to get you to go out with me for years. I have done the stupidest things—”
“You don’t have to bring them up.”
She had the cutest little frown creasing her forehead. “But now, after all that time, you and I are dating?”
“Yes.”
She snorted. “Bullshit.”
“Why? Don’t you want to go out with me anymore?” He’d be the one calling bullshit if she said no.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seriously struggling to respond. Janey finally shrugged and pulled a face. “It doesn’t seem like this is real. Maybe I’m still high.” Her gaze narrowed. “Are you sure you’re not pulling a fast one on me?”
“Nope.” He kept touching her, unable to stop. It was as if now that he’d given himself permission, holding back any longer was impossible.
Her eyes grew wider as he slipped his hand behind her head and cradled her carefully. Temptation lured him forward, calling him to lean down and take her lips for the first time, right there and then.
His body was primed for anything, and everything. Far too hard from simply standing this close—he was going to have a hell of a time surviving when he actually touched her.
Her lashes fluttered, and she stopped fighting. Instead, she planted her palms against his chest, the warmth shooting a thrill through his system. “For real? Because I swear, if I find out you’re shitting me, I will peel you like a grape.”
Len laughed, the sound coming out shaky as Janey dragged her nails down his chest. “I would like to see you try, but no. I’m serious.” He covered her hands with his, mesmerized again by their softness. “This is real, you and me.”
Her tongue darted out over her bottom lip, and another shot of fire raced up his spine. Yet somehow, Len pulled away. Setting her free and placing some distance between them in spite of the disappointment on her face.
He knew the sensation. “I’ll see you at six.”
And he turned, and walked away.
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