Stop staring and breathe.
Mitchell Johnston’s heart beat faster as his gaze returned to the wide smile, big brown eyes and sensual lips that had commanded his attention all night.
His best friend Ray’s kid sister.
Monique James was no longer the annoying little girl in pigtails who’d followed them all over Pleasure Cove as young boys. Nor was she the flirtatious sophomore who’d climbed onto his lap and kissed him when he’d dropped her off at the University of North Carolina on his way back to Ohio State.
They’d seen each other many times since then. She flirted. He pretended to hate it. Neither of them ever mentioned the kiss.
Yet, Monique and that damn kiss were all he’d thought of since then.
Monique navigated the room full of people gathered at Ray’s condo to ring in the New Year. The hazel flecks in her brown eyes danced in the light. “Were you going to stare all night, or had you planned to speak eventually?”
“Good to see you, kid.” Hands braced against her hips, Mitch maintained a safe distance between them as she pulled him into an awkward hug.
“Relax.” She grinned. “Ray headed toward his bedroom with that blonde. Don’t think we’ll see either of them for a while.”
Mitch’s face heated. She laughed, still enjoying her gift for making him blush.
“Besides—” she straightened his tie, her throaty voice low “—Ray wouldn’t object to an innocent hug between friends.”
“Is that what this is?”
“What else would it be?” She shrugged, her pouty, pink lips pursed.
“Nothing.” Mitch retreated, deepening his voice. “And we need to keep it that way.”
Her brows lifted in amusement, as if she could see his deepest desire. He’d wanted her then. He wanted her now.
“Fine.” She held up her hands. “See you around, friend.”
Monique sashayed across the room. The short, fitted dress provided a spectacular view of her firm bottom and lean thighs. The open-toe heels she wore accentuated her calves.
A man Mitch didn’t recognize approached and whispered in her ear. Monique giggled, her hand pressed to his bicep.
Mitch gritted his teeth. He hated that guy. Wished he were him.
He sipped his beer, cataloging the vibrant tattoos that punctuated Monique’s glistening, caramel skin. A colorful mandala capped one strong, lean shoulder. A white-and-pink magnolia covered the other.
One edge of her sensual mouth curved.
Caught staring again.
He was pathetic.
Mitch slipped down the hallway, and onto the back terrace. The fire blazed at the town bonfire down the beach. He pulled his jacket around him and inhaled the cool, brisk air blowing off the Atlantic Ocean. Moments like this made him long for home and the beauty of the North Carolina coast.
The screech of the sliding glass door drew his attention as Monique stepped onto the terrace with two glasses of champagne.
“You’ll freeze to death out here.” He draped his jacket over her bare shoulders.
Unfazed, she handed him a glass. “The countdown is about to begin.”
“Then you’d better get back inside.” He jammed his other hand inside his pocket to curb the temptation to touch her.
Monique stepped closer. Her warm breath formed a wispy cloud. “Can’t think of anyone I’d rather welcome the New Year with.”
Neither could he.
Mitch swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his throat thick. His gaze dropped to her lush lips, glistening in the moonlight.
Were they as sweet and warm as he remembered?