Rescue My Heart Read online

  being all over it, loved the reactions he got from it. From her. But even he knew this had bad idea written all over it.

  She looked down at the bag she held and something in her expression narrowed his senses and made him curious enough to take the bag from her. He peeked inside and found a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a box of…

  Condoms.

  She cleared her throat and shifted her weight, and he tore his eyes off the condoms to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, pupils dilated. Yeah. She was absolutely thinking of sex.

  Which meant he needed a shot of the whiskey. What stopped him from suggesting just that was his realization that she looked like she needed it even worse than he did.

  Something had driven her here, to this. To him. “What happened?”

  “What makes you think something’s happened?”

  “Well,” he said, his gaze raking over her, “for starters, you’re wearing a fancy-ass dress with mud boots. Which, by the way, is sexy as hell.”

  “The dress?”

  “The boots.”

  She looked down at herself. “Maybe I’m making a statement.”

  “Which is?”

  “Some things aren’t as they appear on the outside.”

  He cocked his head. “Like?”

  “Like…an onion, for example. The layers have to be peeled away one at a time to see the real heart and soul of what’s beneath, you know? Even a bruised onion, a damaged onion, is worth saving.”

  He just stared at her. “You’re trying to tell me something.”

  “Yes! Listen, once upon a time, you were the bad influence, right?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly.

  “Well, it’s my turn now, at least for tonight.”

  This might have made him smile. If he didn’t want to both fuck her and strangle her at the same time. And he did want both of those things—badly. Then she leaned in, her body brushing his, and he flashed back to the other night on the mountain. When he’d been with her, his entire world had shrunk, pinpointed to nothing but sensations. The feel of her hot and wet around him, the way her fingers and thighs held him tight, the sound of her voice.

  The heat of her skin.

  It doesn’t have to be just a memory. Hell, her hands were on his chest right now and gliding lower. He caught them in his so he could think. His brothers seemed to think he was being a dumbass when it came to this, to her, that he should do the right thing and open up and let her in.

  That she needed him every bit as much as he needed her.

  He was still processing that, just as he wanted to know what had put the haunted shadows in her eyes. “What brought this on, Holly?”

  She went still, then looked away.

  He moved so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”

  “Derek’s appealing the divorce.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Turns out, he likes the shield of being married. Gives him an in with all the cute coeds.”

  The fucker. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, “but when I find him, I’m going to kick his ass.”

  “Yeah?” He wouldn’t mind seeing that. “How about I hold him down for you?”

  “Aw.” This made her smile. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever offered to do for me.”

  He was a lot of things, but sweet most definitely wasn’t one of them. “You got your attorney on this?”

  “Not yet. Derek just told me.”

  And she’d obviously come straight to him. Adam didn’t know what to make of that. Truth be told, he’d always been a little jealous of Holly’s marriage. He could admit that now, at least to himself. Adam might not have been the right man for her, but he sure as hell wouldn’t have cheated on her or treated her like shit. He’d have—

  Saving him from that ridiculous train of thought, she gave him a little push and pressed the advantage, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door behind her. Snatching the brown bag of goodies back from him, she pulled out the bottle of Jack and tossed the condoms to the bed.

  He arched a brow.

  She broke eye contact and struggled to open the bottle. “Dammit,” she muttered when she couldn’t get it. “This never happens in the seduction scenes in the stupid movies.”

  If she’d come to seduce him, it wasn’t going to require much effort on her part. Hell, who was he kidding, it would take zero effort on her part. He really needed to stop this, now, but instead, he was just staring at her, his mind racing.

  His usual MO was to avoid feeling, at all costs, but whenever it came to Holly, that resolve seemed to fly right out the window. He was feeling so many things, he didn’t know where to start. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

  “Why not?”

  Yeah, ace. Why not? “Earlier tonight, for starters.”

  “When you were rude?” She was bent over the bottle now, which she’d shoved between her legs to get better leverage as she tried to open it.

  “I wasn’t rude,” he said. Abrupt, maybe, he silently conceded. She was still fighting with the bottle, so he slid his hand between her legs and took it from her, absolutely not noticing how warm her inner thighs were or how they’d also warmed the bottle.

  Much.

  She sighed and straightened. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t open the liquor. Instead, he set it on the coffee table.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Problem?”

  “Why did you protect me with the cave bullshit?”

  She blinked. “Protect you?”

  “You told Brady I went into the cave.”

  “You did go into the cave.”

  “No, you did.”

  “You were right there with me, Adam.”

  “For two feet, maybe. Before my complete mental breakdown.”

  She studied him a moment, and he hated that enough to turn his back on her. But not before he grabbed the bottle of Jack. She’d been right, the top was tight, but he managed to get it opened and tossed back a healthy shot. It burned a path clear to his gut to match the burn in his chest.

  “You went in,” she said softly behind him. “And you’d have gone in even farther if you’d had to, if my father had been in there. I know it.”

  He decided another shot was in order. And Jesus Christ, it burned more than the first. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do.” She took the bottle from him and tossed back her own shot, licking her lips afterward, as if she was trying to get a taste of him off the bottle.

  It shouldn’t have done anything for him, but it did.

  She did.

  “I don’t need you to baby me,” he said, struggling to stay on track. “I don’t need to be protected.”

  “Of course not,” she said. “Only a crazy person would try to baby or protect you.” She took another shot, as always, matching him step for step. Then she set the bottle on the coffee table and put her hands on his arms, backing him to the couch. “You do it all, Adam. Always, no matter what.”

  “Stop.”

  “You stop.” She gave him a little push and he went down to the cushions. Standing over him, she kicked off the boots. Then pulled off her sexy-as-hell dress.

  Beneath she wore nothing but a sports bra and panties. Simple white.

  “Um,” she said, looking down at herself for a beat. “Pretend I’m in black silk.”

  He didn’t have to pretend. She was gorgeous in the white cotton. Hell, she’d be gorgeous in a potato sack.

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed the whiskey and drank again. She missed a drop, it slid down her throat and over her collarbone, heading south.

  “Oops,” she said, and leaned back, a movement that thrust out her breasts.

  God, he loved her breasts. They were full, soft. Real. And, he knew from experience, extremely sensitive. But he was no longer a hormone- and testosterone-ruled teenager, driven by his sex drive—even if he did keep his eyes on the drop of whiskey…�