“Bullsh—”
“Ah,” Liam said grinning, “fascinating, well-thought-out argument.”
Brian huffed out a breath, dug in his pockets for his car keys, then glared at the booth full of Reillys. “You guys are making me even more nuts than Tina!”
He stomped off, and after a second or two, Aidan held up one hand toward the waitress and silently ordered another round of beers for the table. Then he glanced first at Connor, then at Liam. “Brian’s a dead man,” he said, smiling.
“Oh, yeah,” Connor said, “a goner.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Liam said and lifted his beer. “A toast. To Brian. May Tina make him suffer before taking him back.”
“Amen.”
“Ooh-rah.”
Tina sat on the edge of the bathtub in the tiny bathroom, dressed only in a towel and reminded herself that this was what she’d come home for. Since she’d first hit town, Tina had started off every day the very same way—taking her temperature. And every day, she’d waited, wondering if this was the optimum day for conception or not. Then every day, she’d faced a mixture of disappointment mingled with relief.
Until today.
She pulled in a deep breath and let it slide from her lungs in a slow rush. Nerves twisted in the pit of her stomach, but she resolutely squashed them. Her temperature was right. Her eggs were ready. The time was now. If she was going to do this, she’d never have a better day than today.
And if she was a little nervous about the romantic ambush she’d been forced to plan, well, that was Brian’s fault. He’d been sneaking into his apartment and sneaking out again in the mornings, avoiding her at all costs. “So what other choice did I have?” she asked, more to hear the sound of her own voice in the stillness of the apartment than anything else.
She crossed her legs, uncrossed them, then crossed them again in the other direction. Her stomach twisted and pitched and every nerve ending in her body seemed poised for panic.
“Silly.” She muttered the word aloud, as if to convince herself. “This is Brian. We were married for Pete’s sake. It’s not like we’ve never—” her voice droned off into silence as memories, old and new, flooded her brain.
Of course, there were the memories of she and Brian, first married, and loving each other so desperately, so frantically, they could barely stand to be separated from each other. Then there were the long, empty years and then—images of the other night crowded her brain and Tina’s stomach twisted again. This time from need. From want.
Brian had pushed her higher and faster than anyone else ever had and the crashing climax she’d found in his arms had only fed her hunger for more. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted to feel the rush and roar of her own blood racing through her veins.
And she wanted a baby.
Her head snapped up as a slight sound reached her. The front door of the apartment had opened.
Standing up, Tina smoothed her palms over the pale blue towel knotted between her breasts and falling to the tops of her thighs. She soothed her stomach with a deep gulping breath of air, then pulled open the bathroom door and stepped out.
Brian’s gaze locked with hers.
His mouth fell open.
Tina smiled. “Surprise.”
Chapter Seven
Brian just stared at her.
He tried to talk, but his throat closed up tight.
He’d been thinking about her all the way home from the restaurant. Liam’s words had rattled around inside his brain until Brian was forced to wonder if maybe his big brother was right. But if Liam was right, then that meant that Brian had wasted five years of his and Tina’s lives. So, his brother wasn’t right, Brian told himself. Liam didn’t realize that Brian had only divorced Tina to protect her. To save her years of misery.
Sure he regretted letting her go.
Never more than right now.
The old-fashioned wooden clock on the wall ticked loudly, sounding like a much steadier heartbeat than Brian’s at the moment. Moonlight filled the shadowy room, streaming in the front windows like a silvery fog. Lamplight from the bathroom behind her, backlit Tina, defining her outline with a glow that was almost otherworldly.
But she was all too real.
And Brian was a doomed man.
Every inch of him went on red alert. He felt like he was strapped into a jet, parked on a carrier, readying himself for the roar of engines and the heartstopping jolt of takeoff. Adrenaline pumped and his blood raced.
A second later, Tina started talking, and he fought the hunger to pay attention.
“…I locked myself out of Nana’s house after my shower—”
He held up one hand for quiet. “You went outside dressed like that?” he managed to croak, and wondered if the fact that he found that idea incredibly sexy was a sign that he was truly twisted.
She smiled, slowly, wickedly. “I’m perfectly decent,” she said. “Not like I went for a walk down Main Street. Besides, it’s a big towel.”
Not big enough, Brian thought frantically. She looked…beautiful. And edible. And irresistible. And so many other things, he could hardly name them all. Her dark, curly hair brushed her shoulders, and her darker eyes glittered with expectation and a hunger he remembered only too well. His fingers itched to explore the length of her tanned, smooth legs and when she smiled, her lips looked full and luscious.
Then his gaze locked on the towel, knotted between her breasts. His breath hitched. Was the knot slipping?
Please.
Slip.
“Anyway,” Tina said and strolled—there was no other word for it—strolled to the double bed on one side of the room and sat down on the edge. He swallowed hard as that towel edged apart slightly and rode high—too high—on her thighs. “I know you have a spare key for Nana’s place and I didn’t think you’d mind if I waited for you up here.”
He watched her and wondered if she’d sat just there on purpose. Moonlight played over her, gilding her in a soft silver glow that made her even more beautiful than usual.
“No. Don’t mind,” he ground out and swallowed hard. His brain was clouding over. Not good. His body was pumped and eager. Also not a good thing.
Tina scooted around until she was stretched out on the bed, long legs crossed at the ankle, her back against the headboard. The moonlight loved her. As he watched, she lifted both arms and stretched lazily, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As if she wasn’t nearly buck naked in his bed.
As if she wasn’t driving him crazy with a wild desire that had a stranglehold on him.
“It’s a nice apartment,” she said, letting her gaze slide around the small room.
Now she’s making small talk? he thought furiously. He was a man on a knife’s edge and she wanted to talk about home furnishings? Bullshit. She was playing this out, deliberately torturing him. She knew what she was doing and knew what it was doing to him. No way was she actually admiring his place. He knew exactly what she was seeing. The studio apartment was small, efficient