can sure as heck try.”
“You’re going to have to try a lot harder to shake me, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, chest muscles rippling under his tight T-shirt—darn it if her own chest didn’t rise to attention—and started toward her.
She took two steps back—straight into a table.
“See?” He inched one leg between hers and braced a hand on the tabletop. “No more running.”
“It certainly seems that way.” She took a deep breath meant to steady her. Instead it brought her closer to him, brushing her already aching nipples against his rock-hard pecs and making her shiver.
“So you’re ready to admit defeat?”
She raised herself up on tiptoe, her lips only inches from his. “I—”
The door flung open to reveal Wes, back from his errand, red-faced and wheezing.
“Nick, Holly! Come quick! You’re not gonna believe this!”
“What is it?” Holly silently thanked the powers that be for the interruption.
“The Deville’s on fire!”
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