Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,41

for a fling?”

Clay leaned forward in his chair, bringing his forearms to his knees, his expression pensive as he mulled it over. “I think dear old Mom would’ve pushed you into Amelia’s arms if for nothing else than to prove to you there’s more to life than work.”

He was right, but I wouldn’t tell him that.

“Well, whatever it was,” I said, “Mom got her wish. Looks like three months of fixing up this place, trying to escape the heat, and spending time with Amelia.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of a gig, Knox,” Clay told me.

“Nope. Sure as hell doesn’t.”

Talk, as it usually does when we’re together and drinking, turned from women to work while we finished our drinks and cigars. There was just something about being out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but moonlight and the distant crashing of the water from the lake to make talking shop so damn enjoyable. Hell, Clay and I could do that in the middle of anything.

That night was different though. We didn’t discuss how we wanted to change the company—we discussed how we wanted to change ourselves along with it. Did he gush about Maria most of the time? Yeah. And for once, I didn’t mind.

What can I say? Booze.

And unfortunately for me, that night was almost a week ago and I still haven’t progressed much with Amelia. Well, not physically. Sure, we’ve spent nearly every waking moment together—and a couple of them sleeping thanks to long days in the summer heat. Never alone. Always with Clay, Sunny, and the rest of the gang. Yet, even on the nights we steal away and stay in, cuddled on the couch while watching old movies, we never do anything other than some very heavy making out—necking as Mom would embarrassingly call it. And every night, as much as it pains me, I put her into bed, give her a kiss goodnight, and go home to Clay’s approving stare.

Like I said: idiot.

He may approve of my going slow; I sure as hell don’t know how I’m managing. I’m a loaded bottle of pent-up frustration that’s in danger of detonating at any given moment.

I have no idea how I’ve kept my cool—and I don’t just mean in this heat wave. The resistance is killing me, and with each night that passes, every inch Amelia presses up closer against me, I can tell it’s killing her, too. So maybe my brother isn’t such a total idiot, but I’ve reached my limit. I have to do something. I can’t lie with her in my arms for one more night with her pert little ass teasing my groin, my hand on her belly when it wants to be on her breast, without doing something about it.

And hell, it’s about time.

Tonight’s the night. And the best part? I have a feeling Amelia has come to that conclusion, too.

When I pick up her up after a long day at the beach, she’s wearing those dark denim shorts that hug her ass to perfection and a tiny Kiss T-shirt that cuts off at the midriff, which exposes a now tanned, taut belly. Her hair in a messy ponytail, practically begging for my fingers to tangle up in it. Cherry lips form an enticing pout, and the necklace that disappears into subtle cleavage has me salivating and desperate to go on my own treasure hunt.

She throws her purse over her shoulder, her beaming smile hitting me somewhere I’m not ready to explore. The moment she steps outside, she sucks in a deep breath.

“Holy smokes. Did it get hotter since this afternoon?” she asks, using her hand to fan her face.

Considering that my white T-shirt already feels damp with my own sweat, I can’t blame her. Probably the wrong fashion choice for the day. Too late now. “Clay said the weatherman warned of a spike in temperature but said it should cool off when the sun goes down. You still cool with walkin’, or do you want me to go get my car?”

I want to ask if I can drive the sweet ride into her garage, but though we’ve gotten close, I’m not sure we’re that close. I can respect the boundaries of a fellow sports car enthusiast.

“That’s sweet, Knox, but I’m not going to melt from the heat. Mickey’s is only a short walk, and plus, if you drive, I don’t get to get you drunk and take advantage.”

I dart forward to catch her, and she twirls out of the way. I’m