Home > Wrong Man, Right Kiss (Gage Brothers #2)(12)

Wrong Man, Right Kiss (Gage Brothers #2)(12)
Author: Red Garnier

“I’m going back to bed,” he said, shoving the milk back into the fridge and shutting the door.

“Can I come sleep with you?” Molly blurted out to his retreating back.

Suddenly she just knew if she went back to sleep alone in her room, she would be haunted. By her masked man. And by Julian in sexy white cotton briefs. She desperately wanted to watch a movie with him and snuggle and sleep and get her best friend back. She ached for him to make her feel…safe. Like when they were kids.

“No,” he answered without a single backward glance.

“Don’t be a jackass, Jules.”

“I don’t sleep with women I can’t take to bed,” he yelled back.

“I’m not women. I’m just me.”

“Precisely.”

She scowled and said, “Just put some pants on and I’ll bring my pillow. Come on, don’t be mean.”

She heard silence, then receding footsteps down the hall.

“Julian?” she called back tentatively.

His laugh made her hope for a moment, but then he spoke. “Good night, Molls!”

And so Molly cursed him all the way to her room, climbed alone into her bed and didn’t sleep a wink.

She didn’t fare so well on the second night, or on the third, either. Even though she tried every night to get him to invite her for a sleepover, the man’s will was iron. She was surprised she couldn’t bend him to her plea at all, but she was more surprised by the amount of effort Garrett had been putting into stopping her from getting into a “relationship” with Julian. Which amounted to zero so far.

That was not the approach of a man in love!

Then again, Garrett had always been the most hardheaded of the three, so he’d probably need extra incentives in order to react to her provocations.

Molly fantasized about the sexy clothing she could wear to catch his attention. She was growing so desperate, she even imagined pulling out that stupid wench costume again—but what sane person wore that? Nobody, that was who. Only Molly Devaney on a dare from Julian.

By the sixth night and seventh morning at Julian’s, Molly decided she was being tortured. Cranky from lack of sleep and out of sorts from painting all night, she began to wonder if she might have taken too deep of a plunge into this whole “relationship.” She’d barely even seen Garrett, much less talked to him, yet oh, boy, she’d been seeing plenty of Julian John.

Of course seeing him seminaked in the kitchen that first night took the gold.

But the close silver went to the times when he had breakfast in those linen drawstring pants that drove her crazy. He had several in different colors, and when the sunlight hit them at just the right angle, she could almost see through them. It was torture trying not to.

Like having an open chocolate bar stare back at you for hours and trying not to eat it. It was crazy.

And then watching all those bare shoulders and biceps and triceps and lats and traps and pecs and all that hairless tanned skin moving and flexing as he had breakfast nearly catapulted her to internal combustion. He was just too…defined. His virility too overwhelming to endure when she’d had no sleep.

But on the other hand, the bantering between them was wonderful.

Julian usually read the paper while Molly eyed all the junk mail, and this morning he’d accused her of being the only person he knew who actually enjoyed reading it. They’d laughed about that, among other stuff. And yet there were also moments that felt…serious. Too serious.

Every time Molly rose for more coffee, she caught Julian staring at her bare legs that peeked from under her long T-shirt. She had never in her life been more self-conscious of her walk until she came back to the table with his smooth green eyes admiring her every step. To cover up her awkwardness, she’d blurt out a silly question and Julian would jerk his gaze back to her face, asking a distracted, “What?” as if he had not even heard her.

It was not like him at all; he was usually as sharp as a tack.

Today, his teasing had continued as he drove her to her old place. Once again he mentioned her clothes. But this time his remarks had felt strangely…intimate.

He didn’t exactly say her flowered sundress came from her “blender” collection, he merely said, eyes glinting in mirth, “You almost look naked without a single paint mark on you.”

Naked.

Molly still wondered why her stomach had twisted like a pretzel at the word, but just the prospect of him seeing her naked made her head spin wildly. Now she waved goodbye to Julian from her front door as his Aston Martin rolled around the curve, a dazed smile lingering on her lips.

She’d promised to catch a ride home with Kate later today, once she managed to pack more of her paint supplies and found herself a dress to wear to tonight’s event, a small housewarming for Landon and his wife, Beth. Although the couple had been married for two years, they’d never really taken the time to honeymoon until now. At first, they’d married because it suited Landon’s business purposes and would help Beth could regain custody of her son, David. But soon they’d fallen madly in love. Now their turbulent waters had calmed and they had one of the most loving marriages Molly had ever seen.

This was the first time Julian and Molly would face all the Gages at once.

The first time they would face Garrett and make him realize he was an idiot for letting Molly go.

And suddenly, sexy and sophisticated wouldn’t do.

Suddenly it was crucial that Molly look stunning.

Using the key neatly hidden in the potted fern outside her door, she quickly entered the apartment to the aroma of baking: cinnamon, cardamom and every scent she associated with home.

Her heart swelled at the sight of their nice, tidy place looking cozy as usual. It was prime-time girly, scattered with lacy pillows and throws on the couches and colorful accessories. Even Molly’s old teddy bear sat contentedly under a Tiffany lamp.

After sequestering herself for days in an ultramasculine bachelor pad, the feminine vibe in their small one-story home appealed to her. Right then, she decided to take some of her pink pillows to Julian’s place. She needed to make herself more at home if she was going to be there for a while, plus she definitely planned to stock up his cupboards with her beloved Sleepytime Tea.

“Okay, what is going on with you?”

Molly spun around to find Kate standing in the kitchen archway, her red hair tied in a ponytail, a frilly apron around her waist and a what-in-the-world expression on her face.

   
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