Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme, #2)

So not good.

For the next twenty minutes, they ate in silence while she flipped through channels, finding nothing, absolutely nothing, to take her mind off the man sitting beside her. Every time he shifted on the couch, she wanted to bolt from the room and lock herself away. Tormented by the wish that he was really shifting toward her to throw his arm around her and not because he was grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth or placing the plate on the coffee table.

God, she hated when she got like this. For the most part, she had a pretty damn good hold on her attraction to Tommy. Being best friends for all these years, they had developed a certain routine. When he put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, it was the equivalent of when he used to put her in a friendly headlock as kids. He told her he loved her so often it was nothing more than a, “Damn, you’re awesome.” In those moments, he was just a friend to her—a best friend. Her person. As she was his.

But every once in a while, like now, she became hyperaware of the man. How close he was.

Every movement. And that gnawing need she’d lived with for so many years started to drive her insane. The need to be with him as a woman. To touch him. God, the dirty things she would gladly do to this man when she felt like she did right now…

All he’d have to do was give her one of those smoldering looks she’d seen him send other women, and she’d be across this couch in less than a second.

She actually wanted to laugh at herself. As much as she talked a big game in her head, she really didn’t know how she would react if Tommy ever did look at her like that. Probably slap her palm across his forehead to make sure he didn’t have a fever.

Finally admitting defeat, she clicked off the TV and dropped the remote beside her. “Nothing’s on.”

As he took a chug of his soda, he shrugged. “TV’s overrated.”

“Says you.”

“I think we can find something else more productive to do.”

So could she, but she highly doubted she was thinking what he was thinking. “Like what?”

“We could talk.”

“Talk?”

He smiled, a stupid half-lifting of one side of his mouth that made her heart slam against her chest. “Yeah, you know, put words into sentences.”

“We talk all the time, Tommy.” She hated the way her voice had a breathless tinge to it, hated how he made her feel butterflies with one damn look.

Seriousness stole away his lighthearted expression. “Not lately. You’ve been working a lot of hours and I’ve been shooting the fall catalog for Athletic Life.” He scowled. “I never imagined I would be making a living modeling in catalog spreads for a small sporting goods store. Earlier this week we were shooting the fishing poles.” He rolled his eyes to her. “ Fishing poles, Julie. I hate fishing.”

“Did they make you wear those rubber boots that come up to your hips?” she asked, trying to get back the lighthearted way they’d been all afternoon.

“Yes!”

He shifted his body toward her, bending a leg onto the cushion so it almost touched her thigh as he propped an elbow on the back of the couch and leaned his head on it. She swallowed, her gaze straying to the masculine knee so freaking close to hers. Mere inches. Not nearly far enough.

So much for trying to keep it light.

Where are the dogs when you need them?

As if she’d somehow telepathically summoned them, she heard the flap of the doggie door and eight paws racing toward them. Lucy jumped onto the couch and curled up on Julie’s lap. Warrior, tail wagging, tongue lolling out of his mouth, eyed the space between Julie and Tommy.

Tommy laughed and scooted back, allowing the dog to settle between them.

Thank you, animals. The physical barrier she needed to keep her cool.

She gave both mutts a good head-ruffle for their unknowing cooperation.

“How are things at the vet clinic?” he asked.

“Good. Busy. But I’m not complaining. I know I was resistant to hiring help, but Melody ended up being an excellent addition.” Julie was a veterinarian, and her practice was just starting to thrive.

“See? If you’d just listen to me more often.”

She lifted her hands in a sign of concession. “You were right.”

“Holy shit, say that again.”

She suppressed a smile. “Don’t push it, bub.”

Tommy had been the one to urge her to hire a second vet, flat-out stating she was working too fucking much and needed to make time for fun. Considering the fact she had been watching him play too much and not work nearly enough, she hadn’t fully appreciated the advice at the time.

But she’d ended up realizing if she kept going like she was, her body was going to make her stop from sheer exhaustion. So she’d hired Melody, and the woman was as dedicated to animals as she was, and had helped take the clinic to the next level.

He stroked the dog’s fur, studying her with an indecipherable look.

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