Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,26
into his hair without him knowing. Within thirty seconds, the guy was freaking out, panicking as he scrubbed his head, screaming, It won’t come out! SHAMPOOOOOOO! as he slapped his head like a monkey.
I couldn’t stop laughing.
Amelia shook her head, smiling and laughing but gently. “That is so mean!”
“He…he can’t—” I giggled. “Look! He can’t get it out and—” Laughter shot out of me. “God, I would break somebody’s nose if they did that to me.”
“Well, a friendly heads-up: don’t ever prank me, or I might break your nose.”
I turned my laughter on her. “Pretty sure your tiny fist wouldn’t tenderize a steak, never mind break my nose.”
She folded her arms and put on a tough look, which made her look about as dangerous as a box of kittens. “Who says I’d use my fist?”
“You hiding a baseball bat somewhere, Melia?” I asked, leaning closer like I was inspecting her.
But once I was in her space, everything slowed, stilled. My eyes fixed on her lips. Would they be sweet? Gentle? Giving? Would they be everything she was?
I needed to know.
Her eyes widened as I drew closer, determined to find out. A puff of breath left those lips of hers and brushed mine, tingling with anticipation.
And to my deepest disappointment, she leaned back, scooting away from me.
Her cheeks flushed crimson. “Oh!” she breathed. “I…I don’t…I’m not…”
My frown was spectacular. I leaned back, put in my place as she found her voice.
“I-I’m sorry, Tommy. But this is a business relationship, and it’s too important to me to…to…mess up with…that.” She gestured to all of me.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “No, please don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even intend to kiss you. I just…couldn’t seem to help myself.” I shifted, putting space between us. I handed her laptop over. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again,” I promised, meaning every word. “I’m sorry, Amelia.”
“Thank you,” she said, relaxing visibly.
And as we settled back into the couch, I tried to tell myself it was fine. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want me, and I hadn’t realized until she rebuffed me how badly I wanted her. But it would never have worked anyway.
She was right.
And that was fine.
Perfectly fine, I told myself, ignoring the sting of the lie.
Brother's Keeper
Tommy
“Gus is my new hero,” I said, punctuating the statement with a sip of my whiskey.
Theo chuckled once through his nose. “That dog is a fucking menace.”
“Menace implies he has some sort of foresight or premeditation. He’s too dumb to be a menace.”
That earned me another laugh, this one with teeth.
“And anyway, you wouldn’t call him a menace if he’d bumped a pretty girl into you.”
“You’re right. I probably would have fed him a hamburger as positive reinforcement.”
“Maybe we could train him. Make him your wingman. God knows you need help finding women.”
He made a face. “When do I have time to meet women? I’m too busy keeping you outta trouble.”
“Psh, please. I’ve been a goddamn joy and a delight.”
His face flattened, lips in a sardonic line.
“Really, Teddy—how could I get into trouble with a prison guard like you on duty?”
He rolled his eyes, but he was laughing, that asshole.
We were hitched to the bar at Jackson’s—a momentary hotspot in SoHo—for Genevieve Larou’s book release party, which meant the joint was packed wall to wall with publishers, editors, models, actors, and the clinging unknowns who’d finagled invitations and wanted to be seen.
If Genevieve wasn’t such a good friend and if Blackbird hadn’t insisted I be there, I would have passed. But Gen had just hit New York Today’s bestseller list with a comedic memoir all about her career as a runway model, and in truth, she was a good friend. Most my exes were.
Plus, it was a chance to be seen. A Page Six feature wouldn’t be the worst thing for book sales. Given my lack of new releases, my sales graph looked like the heartbeat of someone being defibrillated.
“So,” Theo started, shifting on his stool to face me, “when’s Little Miss Sunshine coming over again?”
“Tomorrow. She’s already read all the pages I sent. Can you believe that?”
“I can a hundred percent believe that. I bet they were annotated and highlighted.”
I laughed. “They had a million aggressive sticky tabs on the pages. It looked like a neon hate rainbow.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised. She doesn’t seem like the type to dog-ear anything.”
“Definitely not. I was kinda hoping they had cats on them or something. The neon-green ones were screaming insults at me.”