Love on Tap: The Ashburn Brothers by Kali Hart

Author:Kali Hart
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Riley

I stare at the three different boxes displayed on Zac’s kitchen island.

No pressure.

Right.

My palms are sweaty, my pulse erratic, and those butterflies in my stomach are drunk. Not silly drunk. No, they’re about-to-throw-up drunk. Nausea assaults me, forcing me to grip the counter.

“Hey,” Zac says, resting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay too.”

I allow my eyes to fall closed and focus on the sensation of his touch. I breathe in his woodsy cologne, inviting the distraction it provides. If it’s the only thing I accomplish before I leave Caribou Creek, I’m going to find the bottle responsible for making Zac smell so damn good. Maybe steal a t-shirt doused in the intoxicating aroma.

“I’m not ready,” I finally say, my words quiet and wobbly.

I’m not ready to face reality. I’m not ready to find out if I’m carrying a married man’s child. Not ready for everyone I care about to turn away from me. I never should’ve believed him when he told me his divorce was almost finalized. I should have been more diligent in finding the answers for myself before I succumbed to his charms.

“You want pancakes?”

I feel the tension in my shoulders ease as Zac slides his hand away. “Pancakes?”

“Pancakes make everything better, right?”

His effortlessly sexy smile erodes the rest of my dread. I stare at his mouth, remembering how perfect it felt against my own. But the untouched tests remind me I should keep my hands to myself until I’m brave enough to face reality. “Not hungry,” I admit. Well, not for pancakes.

I move from the island, eager to put some distance between those tests and me. Though the only direction I yearn to go is right into Zac’s arms, I force myself to travel in the opposite direction. I stop at a side table against the far living room wall. It’s covered in framed photographs of men in Army uniforms.

I reach for one and study the picture that includes Zac, my brother, and a couple other GIs. “Wow, you really fill out a uniform.”

“That was in another life.” He takes the framed picture from me and sets it back down. The graze of his fingers scrambles my brain. He’s standing close enough to blanket me in his heat. I shouldn’t lean into it, but it’s too late. My back is pressed against his chest, my neck tilted in offering, and my hand reaching for his cheek before I even realize what’s happened.

Zac nuzzles my neck, his beard tickling my sensitive flesh.

I sink into him further, forgetting by the second why I’m supposed to resist him.

His warm hand slides down my arm and settles on my stomach, holding me in a way that feels possessive. The wetness pooling between my legs outs me. I like it. I like it way too much. A soft moan escapes my parted lips, begging him to kiss me again.

“I’m sorry if I pushed you,” he says in a low, heated whisper against my ear.

“You didn’t.” I comb my fingers through his beard, willing his lips to find mine.

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