Icing on the Cake (Close to Home) Read Online Free PDF Page A

siblings’ wedding rehearsal party quickly becoming a blip in the rearview mirror.
    She closed her eyes and sunk into the leather seat. The rhythmic clicking of the turn signal gave way to the sway of the car as Curtis turned onto the side road. He didn’t know the area but he hadn’t asked where to go. He’d just taken charge. Rescued her from herself, though she’d never tell him as much.
    Her dad’s broken promise and Nia conspiring to hide it pissed Sara off to the nth degree. So much so, her self-imposed vow of good behavior had turned to dust beneath her charging heels.
    The muffled sound of I Got You, Babe broke the silence as her cell rang beneath her ass.
    “Great song.” No sarcasm in his voice, just genuine appreciation.
    Not the usual reaction to her ringtone. Most guys—hell, most people—gave her the sideways eye when the Sonny and Cher tune belted from her phone. She could handle stupid comments or snickering. She welcomed them, because they gave her an excuse to dish shit back. Curtis’ reaction to her favorite song put her in an unfamiliar place. So she said nothing.
    “You going to answer that?” he asked when the song started up again, signaling a second incoming call.
    “No.” She ignored the music and the tingling awareness that told her Curtis was staring.
    “It’s probably your family, making sure you’re okay.”
    “Making sure I’m not going to fuck up Nia’s wedding any more than I already have, you mean.”
    “That too.”
    She snorted and turned to face him. “Wasn’t it your job to keep me out of trouble?”
    He didn’t outright smile, but his lips twitched and telltale crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t realize I’d have to be on top of you every second. But I’m more than willing to assume that position for the remainder of the weekend.”
    Damn, he was quick. Cocky too. She ought to jump all over that—and him.
    “Good luck with that,” she said, severing what could have been the beginning of a fun and frisky conversation by resuming her meditative posture. Pretty bad when she wasn’t even in the mood to verbally joust with a hot, sexy man who knew how to keep up.
    Beside her, Curtis fiddled with the radio until he found something he liked, but he kept the volume low. Out of consideration for her mood, likely. She knew the man wasn’t afraid to drive fast. She’d wager he liked his music loud too. As she did.
    They drove in semi-silence for several songs. Mostly they went straight, but they slowed for a couple of turns. Through it all, she kept her eyes closed. Curtis had chosen a classic-rock station, and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat. He even whistled a bit. Not the loud, obnoxious type of whistling. The under-the-breath type.
    This car, the music, the drumming and low whistling. The feeling of safety, as if nothing could hurt her here, in this moment. For a split second she was a kid again, riding shotgun while her dad—her first dad—took his prized Trans Am out for a summer cruise. It’d been almost twenty years, why’d it still have to hurt so much?
    A traitorous sob stole up from the depths of her chest. Shit, shit, shit. She leaned forward and snapped off the radio, then fell back against the comforting leather.
    “Want to talk about it?”
    She opened her eyes for the sole purpose of glaring at him. “Do I look like the kind of girl who wants to talk about stuff?”
    “I didn’t know there was a look for that.”
    “There is. I believe you’ve met Nia?”
    “Ouch. Got the claws out where your sister is concerned.” He took his eyes off the road to give her the raised-eyebrows look—apparently a Lawler-family trait. “Jealous that she beat you to the walk down the aisle?”
    “Hell no. I’d rather do the walk of shame.”
    His deep, husky laugh filled the car and he smiled. A sexy-as-fucking-sin smile that brought her nipples to a full salute. “Sounds like the better walk to