One Snowy Night (Heartbreaker Bay #2.5)(4)

In the time that they’d both been working in the city, he’d come to realize that not only had she outgrown her shyness, but she was smart, resourceful, and funny. If he didn’t resent their past so much, he’d probably have asked her out a long time ago.

But he did resent their past, which left him both driven nuts by her presence and also somehow . . . hungry for her. Which meant it was official: he’d lost his mind.

If he’d ever had it in the first place.

He glanced at the very nice view again and the wheels of his truck hit the edge of his lane, giving off a loud whump whump whump. “Shit,” he muttered and jerked the truck back into the lane.

Smooth, real smooth, he thought with self--disgust.

At the motion of his truck swerving, Rory nearly slid into his lap.

“Sorry,” she gasped, bracing one hand on his shoulder, the other high up on his thigh, using them to shove clear of him.

He could still feel the heat of her hands on him as she flopped back in her seat, hair in her face. She shoved it clear and then bent over and started rifling through the huge purse at her feet.

The movement slid her sweater north and her jeans south, revealing a two--inch strip of the creamy white skin of her lower back.

And two matching dimples that made his mouth water again.

“What the hell are you doing?” he managed to ask.

“Nothing.” She straightened, coming up with a dog biscuit, which she tossed back to Carl. The dog snapped it out of thin air, practically swallowing it whole, and then licked his chops.

“You carry bones with you?” he asked in surprise.

“Of course,” she said, like didn’t everyone?

His phone buzzed an incoming call. He answered it via speaker but before he could say a word, his elder, know--it--all sister Cass spoke.

“I know you’re on your way,” she said, her voice blaring out from his truck’s speakers. “So I’ll be quick. Two things. One, the weather is atrocious and the roads up here are an epic disaster already so please be careful, and two, don’t forget that we’ve got a promise between us.”

“Cass—-”

“No excuses,” she said. “The next girl you feel something for, anything at all, you have to go for it, no exceptions. That’s my Christmas present and I just wanted to remind you of that. And since I’m assuming you’re going to say you’ve felt nothing, you should know I’ve got you covered.”

Max didn’t bother to groan. Nor did he look at Rory, who he could sense straightening in her seat with interest. “What have you done, Cass?”

“Me?” she asked innocently. “Nothing.”

Yeah, and he was Santa Claus. “Cass.”

Her sigh echoed in the truck interior. “Okay, fine, I might have invited a friend—-”

“No,” he said.

“Come on. Kendall’s cute, smart, gainfully employed, and she has a crush on your dog.”

“How the hell does she know Carl?”

“Honestly, Max? Are you seriously not reading my Facebook messages?”

No. He wasn’t.

“I started a Facebook page for Carl weeks ago,” Cass said. “He’s already got a thousand likes.”

If he hadn’t been driving into a downpour with hurricane--force winds, he might’ve taken his hands off the wheel to rub his temples where a headache was forming. “I’m disconnecting you now,” he warned, ignoring Rory’s snort.

“So that’s a yes on Kendall, right?”

“It’s a firm hell no,” he said.

Cass was silent a beat, thinking. Never a good thing for Max. “So . . . there is someone you’re feeling something for,” she said.

He nearly laughed. Yes. Yes, he was feeling something for the woman sitting next to him but it sure as hell wasn’t what Cass was hoping for.

“Even a little spark of attraction counts,” Cass warned. “You promised, Max. And you never break promises.”

True story. He never broke promises.

“Max? Is there someone, then?”

Max slid a gaze across the console and found Rory staring at him, her dark brown eyes swirling with emotions that he couldn’t possible put a finger on without a full set of directions. She was beautiful in the girl--next--door way, meaning she had absolutely zero idea of her own power. In fact, Rory had always seemed completely oblivious of her looks. In high school, she’d been thin but had worn clothes that had tended toward shapeless, which had allowed her to be invisible as she’d clearly liked to be. She was still thin but had acquired curves in all the right places now, shown off by clothes that actually fit her. Her long hair was wavy and had its own mind. She hadn’t tried to tame it, letting it flow in dark brown waves to her breasts. If she was wearing makeup, he couldn’t see any.

What he had no problem seeing was her interest in his response to his sister.

Okay, yes, so he felt a physical attraction to her. And he’d felt that response more than once. A lot more, if he was being honest with himself, but he’d hidden it. Or so he hoped, telling himself it was nothing more than a natural male response to a female form. That was it. Because he wasn’t attracted to Rory—-unless you count the attraction of strangling her.

He shifted, knowing he was lying to himself.