Katee Robert - In Bed with Mr. Wrong

He frowned. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Frankly, at this point she was surprised she could talk at all. She pushed at his chest, her body giving a cry of protest when he backed up. It was just the cold getting to her. It had nothing to do with wanting to tackle him to the porch and start this whole process over again. She snatched her clothes up and dug her key out of her purse, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing behind her, as completely naked as she was.

Ryan may have been good-looking and his touch may have made her thought processes short out, but they were totally incompatible. And he was leaving soon. Even if she were interested—which she most definitely wasn’t —it wouldn’t be more than a fling.

Bri was not the kind of woman who indulged in flings.

Then again, she’d never considered herself a candidate for one-night stands, either.

She stepped into her house and forced a smile. “You know, the town was right about you. You really are a fire-starter.”

And then she slammed the door in his face.

…

Ryan stared at the closed door, half-convinced he was missing something. No way in hell had he just had his mind blown by this woman, only to have her pat him on his head and leave him alone on the front porch. He glanced down.

Alone and naked on her porch.

Both the interior and exterior lights clicked off, leaving him in near-complete darkness. Fucking fantastic. He yanked on his clothing and marched out the porch door, cursing himself for being an idiot. The only reason this entire mess had happened was because she caught him off guard. And, holy shit, had she caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected her to rise to the challenge he’d issued, and he sure as fuck hadn’t expected his reaction to it—to any of it.

It was probably a blessing she’d run off, because he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to control himself enough to walk away, no matter how much his attraction to her didn’t make sense.

Good riddance.

Ryan slammed his Suburban door and cranked the engine. He’d be lucky if this didn’t hit the Wellingford gossip mill by morning, one more clusterfuck to add to the already-stellar reputation he couldn’t escape. “I hate goddamn small towns.”

The trip back to his brother’s house didn’t take nearly enough time, but if he didn’t show up there would be hell to pay. Drew wasn’t exactly known for minding his own business, being the town sheriff and all, and Ryan wouldn’t put it past him to call Bri to get the whole messed-up story. With his luck, she’d spin it to sound like he took advantage of her—the exact opposite of what actually happened.

He should’ve had something stronger at dinner. Beer was not enough for this shit.

Ryan headed for the front door, but nearly turned around when he registered that all the lights were on. Great. Exactly what he needed. He took a fortifying breath and pushed open the door.

Drew and Avery had his brother’s game console hooked up with what looked like DDR — Dance Dance Revolution —and Ryan was so ashamed he even knew what that was to begin with. They stood side by side, feet flying over the arrows on the pad they’d set up on the ground. It was a throwback from when they were all kids, always trying to one-up one another and finding weird-ass games to accomplish it. He’d thought they’d have grown out of it while he was gone, but obviously that wasn’t the case.

Though he tried to slip down the hallway while they were distracted, Avery let out a whoop. “Ryan’s home!”

Shit. He’d wanted to shower before he had this talk because he could still smell Bri on his skin and it was driving him nuts. But it wasn’t like he could tell them that. He glared at his brother. “You’re an asshole.”

Drew shut off the game and dropped onto the couch. “What’d I do?”

Avery snagged the beer out of his hand and took a long drink. “Don’t just lurk in the hallway. Get in here and tell us the dirty details. Were we right? You two hit it off like apples and oranges, didn’t you? When are you seeing Bri again?”

Drew rolled his eyes. “Kind of hard to get the story when he can’t get a word in edgewise.”

“Hush, you.”

Since they were about to devolve into bickering, Ryan should have made his escape. Problem was, he had to have this conversation sooner or later, so he might as well do it while they were partially distracted. “I’m not seeing her again.”

They stopped talking and turned to face him. Drew frowned. “Why not?”

Avery shoved her long black hair back into a ponytail like she was about to throw down. “What did you do?”

“How the hell do you know it was his fault?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably because Bri is one of the nicest people we know, and she would bend over backward to not step on anyone’s toes.”

Drew seemed to think about it. “You’re right.” He turned to Ryan. “What did you do?”

Him? He hadn’t done a goddamn thing except get whiplash from the woman’s sharp tongue. “Can we focus on the fact that this is your fault? The only reason I was on that date to begin with was as a favor to you.”

And what a clusterfuck of a date it’d been. He still couldn’t decide if the way it ended was the ultimate “screw you” from Bri, or something that made that torturous dinner worthwhile. The woman was confusing as hell, from the way she tore him a new one at every opportunity, to the way she begged him to put his hands on her.

“But…you’re perfect for each other.” Avery handed Drew back his beer and frowned. “You’re like…disgustingly perfect for each other. She needs someone who’s going to be strong and steady and stand by her while expanding her horizons. You need someone who’s going to create a home you actually want to come back to.” She waved her hands like a magician. “See? Perfect.”

“You’re crazy.” He turned and stalked down the hallway, leaving them to their game.

The worst part was they had clicked once their clothes came off. He’d never felt like that when he’d been with women in the past, the primitive satisfaction of knowing he was the only one who made her body spark to life. That look in her eyes as she came was branded in his mind, completely at odds with how she’d been at dinner. It didn’t make any sense, because he was pretty sure he didn’t even like Bri.

One thing was certain—she thought this was over and done with between them. Well, he damn well didn’t. He wanted to know which was the real Bri—the snarling harpy from their date or the sweet, sexy thing from the porch—and the only way to do that was to see her again. They were going to talk this out, even if he had to lock her in a room to do it.

By the time Avery’s birthday party rolled around two days later, Bri was desperate for anything to distract her from memories of her night with Ryan. She’d gone through two sets of batteries, thanks to her buzzy friend Avery got her for Christmas, and her libido was showing no signs of slowing down. Years of reading racy romance novels had given her more than her fair share of erotic inspiration, though the man she imagined now shared Ryan’s face and body.

The birthday party was exactly what she needed. It would be impossible to think about sex surrounded by her friends and Avery’s super-traditional family. If her best friend’s grandfather couldn’t put a damper on any situation, Bri didn’t know who could. Damage control alone would keep her busy for a few hours.

Or so she thought until she pulled up to Chilly’s Bar and Grill and her headlights caught Ryan’s beat-up old Suburban. She mentally kicked herself. Of course he would be here. He and Drew had grown up with Avery. And it’s not like he had the decency to spare her the humiliation of facing what they’d done.