What Happens Between Friends Read Online Free Page B

soft, gruff voice causing goose bumps to rise on her arms. “What’s this about?”
    “Nothing.” She cleared her throat and prayed she didn’t sound as needy and unsteady as she felt. “I’m just...I’m really happy to see you.”
    She leaned back and studied him. His handsome face was as familiar to her as her own: soulful eyes the color of rich chocolate, heavy eyebrows and shaggy dark hair that had the tendency to curl at the ears and nape. His Roman nose bent slightly right, thanks to his taking an elbow to the face when he went up for a rebound during a basketball game their sophomore year.
    Yes, he was the same. Same mouth with the full bottom lip. Same square jaw. But there was one difference....
    “What’s this?” she asked, tapping his chin. She had the strangest, strongest urge to leave her fingertips there, to trail them across his dark whiskers, to rub the thick, triangular patch just below his lower lip.
    She dropped her hand back to his shoulder.
    He stroked his thumb and forefinger across his neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. “Chicks dig it.”
    “No doubt.”
    Then again, females of all ages dug the Montesano men. James may not have Leo’s panty-melting looks or Eddie’s sexy intensity, but he was handsome, kind and when you were with him, he listened—really listened—instead of patting your head or giving you unwanted advice. A woman could trust him—with her thoughts, her secrets and her heart. He was sweet. Safe.
    A good catch, her mother had deemed him way back when he’d been fifteen.
    She’d been right. Irene Ellison was always right. It was her third most-annoying trait.
    “You’ve never had facial hair before,” Sadie said, musing aloud. “I mean, other than that scraggly thing you tried to pass off as a mustache when you turned eighteen.”
    He smiled, one of his easy, warm grins. The whiskers may be new, somehow making him seem harder, edgier than he truly was, but inside, where it mattered, he hadn’t changed.
    And thank God for that.
    “It might have been a little...patchy.”
    “Patchy? It looked like you’d taped a molting caterpillar to your upper lip.”
    He shrugged, the movement causing his chest to rise and fall against her inner arms. Tingles of heat pricked her chilled skin.
    She stepped back. “I sure missed you, pal o’ mine.”
    “I missed you, too. Though I’d miss you more if you didn’t bring mayhem with you every time you came back to town.”
    “You know what they say. One person’s mayhem is another’s good time.”
    “No one says that.”
    “They should. Think I could get it trademarked? I’d make a killing with needlepoint samplers.”
    “I thought you were going to make a killing selling organic beauty products.”
    Heat crawled up her neck. Thank goodness it was too dark for him to see her blush. “Surprisingly, there wasn’t as big a market for them as I’d hoped.”
    And, if she was honest with herself—something she tried very hard to avoid—her products weren’t good enough to be competitive in an already very competitive market. It’d been a whim, one of many she’d followed through on.
    “That is surprising,” James said mildly. Bless him, he never bad-mouthed her ideas or told her they wouldn’t work. “So, what brings you to town?”
    “I didn’t want to miss your birthday.”
    “You’ve missed plenty in the past fifteen years.”
    “But I couldn’t miss this year. Such a special milestone.”
    “Yes. Turning thirty-four is very significant for most people.” He crossed his arms, the movement pulling his shirt open at the neck, showing a sprinkling of dark chest hair, the strong line of his throat. “What’s wrong?”
    “What makes you think anything’s wrong?”
    “Because you’re standing in front of me, wet, muddy and bedraggled—”
    “Ooh...breaking out the big-boy words. I’m so proud.”
    “—which I’m going to guess means you’re flat broke, unemployed or without prospects. Or all of