Let him. It couldn’t hurt her cause to keep him guessing.

But another reason she liked it was that it represented his beloved sport. Stack was a fighter through and through, and she liked supporting him while wearing the shirt.

Skipping a bra, she pulled on the shirt, pairing it with her most comfortably worn skinny jeans.

Barefoot, she emerged from her bedroom feeling like a new woman ready to take on the world—or one very sexy light heavyweight fighter.

Following the faint sounds of movement, she entered her kitchen and found Leese putting empty paper plates and napkins in the trash. As he bent over the can his T-shirt stretched tight over his shoulders, and his jeans hugged his backside.

One thing about having fighters for friends—the view was amazing.

The second she walked in, he looked up, then straightened. “Hey.”

He spoke softly, and his smile looked wicked enough to seduce a hundred women. Just not her. “Hi. Everyone else is gone?”

“Pretty much. Armie used pizza to bribe them away to his place during halftime.” Leese went to the sink and washed his hands, speaking to her over his shoulder. “Feeling better?”

“Much, thank you.” The day had totally gotten away from her. Had Stack decided against coming to see her? God, she hoped not. She could barely wait a minute more; waiting another day was out of the question.

Drying his hands, Leese grinned at her. “You are so transparent.”

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“Really?” Not that it’d take a mind reader for Leese to know where her thoughts had gone. More than the others, he knew of her interest in Stack. She confided in her girlfriends—to a point. And she got along great with all the guys. But Leese had become a very dear friend, and whether he liked it or not, a confidante.

After putting aside the dish towel, he tweaked a long hank of her hair. “He’s passed out on the couch.”

“Stack?”

That made him laugh. “I sure didn’t mean the pope.”

Turning in a rush, Vanity headed to her living room but slowed at the sight of Stack’s long, leanly muscled body slumped in the corner of the couch, legs stretched out and feet crossed on the coffee table. Maggie lay in his lap, and Norwood sprawled on his back with his head tucked up against Stack’s side.

Her heart turned over. It was the oddest feeling, sweet but disturbing, life-altering.

Denial had only worked for so long. After seeing him rescue people without concern for his own safety, watching him interact with his sister and care for his mother...well, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. She loved him. So, so much.

It looked as though his light brown hair had dried without being combed, and he’d recently shaved.

“You’ve got it bad,” Leese said beside her, then he looked at Stack and grinned. “Lucky bastard.”

“Shhh!”

But it was already too late. With a deep rumbling, Stack stretched out his arms and tucked in his chin, flexing all those gloriously hot muscles on his gloriously hot body, making her pulse quicken in a delicious way.

She spun to Leese and said, “Thanks for everything. Appreciate it. You can go now.”

His quirking smile turned to a grin, and that led to a bark of laughter. His gaze went from her face to the couch, and he said, “She’s throwing me out.”

Vanity pivoted to Stack and wanted to sigh with greed.

Now relaxed, his eyes heavy but open, Stack stared at Vanity while saying, “Good idea. Later, Leese.”

One-armed, Leese drew her in for a hug. “If you need anything else with the dogs, give a holler.”

She nodded and walked him to the door. She watched as he got in his truck and backed out of the driveway before closing the door. She turned and almost ran into a solid wall of muscle. Eye level with Stack’s chest, she said, “Good grief. You move like a ninja.”

Both dogs sat beside him, expressions anxious to see what would happen. Reaching past her, Stack locked the door.

“Oh.” Her heartbeat started tripping. She gazed at his mouth. Man, she loved his mouth. Looking at it made her mouth tingle, and she started to go on tiptoe to reach him.

“Hold that thought.” After brushing his knuckles along her cheek, Stack headed for the back of the house. “You guys want to go out?”

Barking enthusiasm shattered the quiet. The dogs took off in a zigzagging run, occasionally turning circles, leaping.

Vanity rushed behind them. “Aren’t we going to—”

“Damn straight.” He opened the back door, and the dogs shot out without a care.




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