Free Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) by Lynnette Austin

night.”
    “She didn’t blow me off,” Brawley groused. “Nothing to blow off. We’re friends. Period.”
    “Right.” Cash bounded up the stairs, Staubach beside him. “We won’t stay long.”
    “Famous last words,” Ty muttered, his conscience still eating at him.
    Dottie was visiting her daughter for the holiday. Otherwise, she’d have shagged all their butts home. A wreath covered in autumn leaves and a goofy-looking turkey hung on her door. Her outside light spilled across the driveway.
    Cash waited till all of them, dog included, crowded onto the small landing before he rapped on the door. Nothing. The music continued; the women’s voices never stopped.
    He knocked again, a little louder this time, and called out, “Pizza delivery!”
    It went quiet inside. Through the door’s window, Ty spotted Annie spread out on the old brown sofa. Maggie was sprawled in an oversized chair, her feet on the coffee table, while Tink sat cross-legged on the floor, painting her toenails.
    One of those foofy girly lights hung over the coffee table, all white and crystals and candlelight. And damned if the women didn’t look really good in the soft glow.
    A big grin on her face, Annie jumped up from the sofa. When she threw open the door, neither he nor Brawley moved. Cash handed her the flowers, then scooped her up for a big hug and a kiss that was definitely X-rated. Staubach circled them, barking, and jumped up for a kiss, too.
    Now, with a clearer view, Ty turned to the other women and about swallowed his tongue. This was how they dressed for an all-woman pajama party? He thanked God then and there he had three little boys tucked into bed at home instead of three little girls.
    He’d expected flannel pajamas or baggy sweats and T-shirts. Wrong! Not a scrap of flannel in sight. Tink wore skin-tight black leggings and a short, black lace crop top that showcased her belly button.
    His temperature spiked, and desire, unexpected and unwelcome, rushed through him. His nagging unease quadrupled. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything close to this. Almost four years because, carrying triplets, sex had pretty much been off the table from the get-go of Julia’s pregnancy. Then—well, then things had gone to Hell in the proverbial handbasket, and their world had been dumped on its ass.
    Nothing had ever been the same nor would it.
    So why in the hell did his libido, long dormant, choose this moment to stand up and take notice? Frantic, he reminded himself that Tink was Annie’s cousin—which meant in a couple days she’d be part of Cash’s family. Which meant no fooling around. You didn’t mess with family—and he sure as hell wasn’t thinking long-term. A night, one night, of hot sex. That’s all he needed.
    But not with Tink.
    Definitely not with Tink.
    A bead of perspiration formed on his forehead, despite the cool night temperature.
    Then Annie swatted Cash. “Go away. As much as I enjoyed that, you need to scram. This is a girls-only party.”
    “Come on, sweetheart. Throw a starving man a crumb. One dance. Then we eat and get out of your hair.”
    “No way.”
    Brawley gave Cash a nudge. “Step aside, wuss, and let the real men in.” He waved the pizzas he carried under Annie’s nose. “Look what Uncle Brawley’s got.”
    Maggie pushed out of the chair. “Uncle Brawley, my behind. Leave the pizzas on the counter on your way out.”
    “You’re a hard woman, Maggie Sullivan. No deal. The pizzas are gonna cost you a dance,” Brawley said.
    She looked him up and down, then crossed her arms. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought. I am not dancing with you.”
    “Give me a break, Mags. Don’t hold grudges.”
    “I danced with you last night.”
    “Not long enough.”
    “Oh, please. If you want to dance that badly, go find yourself another Dallas cheerleader. I’m sure one of them will be more than happy to snuggle up with you.”
    Cash snagged Annie around the waist and led her into a