Seeing is Believing (Cuttersville #3)(29)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Yes, I probably am. Though it would seem the spirits are none too pleased with me tonight.”

“Maybe Rachel is just jealous that you’re alive and she’s dead.” Brady imagined it would suck with a capital S to just have to float around and watch people living. He wouldn’t be all that happy about it himself, especially if there were no erections in the afterlife.

He was also glad that she didn’t ask him anything else, for a better explanation, or to urge him to take up a paintbrush again. Encouraging people got on his nerves. If he wanted to do something, he would, plain and simple, and no amount of lip from another person was going to change that.

“I feel really sad for her,” Piper said. “Regardless of what she did or didn’t do, no one is denying that her fiancé was unfaithful. That must have hurt.”

“Yeah. Cheating sucks.” He’d never understood it himself. “If you’re not fully in a relationship, you should get out. It’s the right thing to do. But people are selfish. They want everything. A loving spouse and a flirt buddy. It’s all about ego.” Which was why he’d never gotten married. He knew himself. He had a short attention span when it came to women and he never wanted to be that douche bag of a husband who was eyeing every big-breasted waitress who served him.

“I had a boyfriend whose ego needed its own zip code,” Piper said softly. “It ruined my sophomore year in college.”

“That’s sucks. I’m sorry. At least it was only a year and not a lifetime.” Though Brady kind of wanted to find the guy and punch him in the face for making Piper miserable.

Piper climbed off his lap and stood, disappointing him. He liked the way she felt all up against him, her ass resting on his thighs, her br**sts pressing against his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist.

“At least he never cheated. Or not that I know of. But he was the kind who was so into himself, he had to tear down other people, including me. I’m surprised I found the nerve to break up with him,” she said. “Sometimes I have a hard time saying what I want.”

Brady reached out and took her small, delicate hand into his. “You didn’t seem to have a problem last night.” For which he was very grateful.

“But I still didn’t use words. I wish I could figure out how to unstick my tongue.”

He appreciated how honest she was being. It made him feel less of an ass for sharing his feelings about his art. “Tell me what you want right now.” If she didn’t want to talk, he could think of a thing or two to do with her tongue.

“I want . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Start with the first thing that comes to mind.”

“I want to make out on the couch, like you suggested.”

He could get on board with that. “Done.”

She laughed, and it was the best thing he’d heard all day. “But you know we can’t . . . you know, because of the girls.”

Her inability to say “sex” amused him. “What—play loud music? Make popcorn? Watch a Disney movie marathon?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. We can’t. So maybe we shouldn’t get started on something we, uh, can’t finish.”

“Are you questioning my self-control?” Which she probably had a good reason to, because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t try to charm her out of her panties if he got started on kissing her and feeling those curves up against him.

“No. I’m questioning mine.”

Brady watched her take a sip of her wine, leaning against the kitchen counter, her cle**age eye level with him, a hint at the glorious br**sts he really wanted to worship in full detail. She had no idea what she did to him. That she was the most intriguing mix of innocent and direct, shy and sensual. She was the kind of woman who acted like what his stepmother would call a lady. She didn’t slam other women or snarl at her parents or a boyfriend. She would never be rude to a sales associate or stiff the waitress. Yet she was clearly a woman who wanted to explore her sexuality, who was comfortable with her body.

It was a combination that appealed to him on some deep, intrinsic level, sent a rush of desire through him so aggressive that just that little glance at her chest bursting out of her sundress and hearing her words had his c**k rising and ready to salute.

“Then there’s no hope for me,” he told her. “So why don’t I walk you to your room before we both do something you’ll regret.”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “You wouldn’t regret it?”

“I seriously doubt it. But I’m not as good of a person as you are.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone, if you asked them, but I don’t think that’s necessary. Let’s just say I’m not the most selfless guy you’re going to meet, and you can bet the farm on that.” He wasn’t fishing for compliments. He was just being honest. He was no blue-ribbon prize. Maybe a consolation prize, but even more likely he was a participation prize. Thanks for showing up; you get a restless, selfish, jobless guy. What kept him from being a booby prize altogether was that he was good in bed. Everyone had at least one talent, and he supposed that was his.

Piper didn’t argue with him. But neither did she agree. She just put the two-thirds-full bottle of wine on top of the refrigerator and drained her glass, which she then rinsed out, like she knew he wasn’t the kind who could be convinced with a few words. “Are you done with your wine?”

He stood up. “Yes.” There were just a few drops clinging to the bottom of the glass. Before he could blink, or think too long about how amazing it would taste to dribble that red wine on her ni**les and suck them into tight peaks, Piper had both glasses washed and turned upside down on a dish towel.

“I think you have low self-esteem,” she told him, surprising the crap out of him. “And that’s unfortunate because I’m sure you have a lot to offer to the people in your life.”

Brady stared at her for a second, wondering whether he should be offended. But he couldn’t be. He just started laughing. “No one has ever accused me of having low self-esteem. I think that’s a first. It doesn’t sound nearly as sexy as being selfish does.”

“I don’t suppose so.”

“I’m bringing sexy back, that’s for sure. I’m unemployed and I have low self-esteem.” God, that killed him. There was one thing he wasn’t, and that was displeased with himself. Piper clearly couldn’t believe that someone was just hardwired to be selfish, yet wasn’t a total dick. But he figured that summed up the majority of people.