Free More Than Friends (Kingsley #4) by Brandi Kennedy Page B

the ceiling and closed his eyes .“ Damn, I need a drink . ”
     
    He didn't open his eyes again until he felt the air change in the room, the smell of disinfectant breezing in as Renee silently pushed the door open with her shoulder. Her arms were ful l – she was carrying a small clear plastic box, filled with several small bottles and things. Resting atop the box was a vase of flowers, cheerful shades of yellow and white, a mix of daisies, lilies, and small roses. Renee smiled at him silently, her eyes flicking from him to his mother and back. He shrugged, stepped forward, and lifted the vase from her arms.
     
    Her hand now freed of the burden of not dropping anything, Renee reached out and caught the collar of Michae l’ s shirt, pulling him back down so that she could whisper in his ear .“I’ ll stay with her , ” she said softly, her breath sending tendrils of electricity spiraling through his blood .“ And w e’ ll do a good job faking it until yo u’ re off the hook, but I can tell yo u’ re tired . ” She waited until he nodded softly, his cheek brushing close to her lips; sh e’ d pressed a folded slip of paper between his fingers and whispered ,“ Tha t’ s a twenty. Will you get us some coffee ? ”
     
    Nodding again, Michael swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. They were good friends, close friends. They had shared many private jokes and small secrets in the time they had known each other. This was n’ t the first time she had whispered in his ear; in fact, he had whispered in hers many times, too. So why was it that this time, the caress of her breath along the shell of his ear made goose bumps fly over his skin? Why was it that the coconut breeze that surrounded her seemed to short-circuit his brain and send inconvenient wake-up signals to his crotch? What the hell was wrong with him? Clearing his throat, he stepped away and watched her hand fall from his collar, the delicate fingers long and slender, tipped with simple, clear pink polish. She smiled, totally unaware of the effect she had had, and turned away to settle the box in her hands on the windowsill.
     
    Michae l’ s eyes fell down as she turned her face away, to watch lean arms and narrow shoulders, the curve of a slender waist beneath her favorit e‘ Yoga Rock s ’ t-shirt, the subtle flare of a hip against the smooth stretch of yoga pants as she bent to glance out the window. Long, lean thighs, slender calves, dainty feet in bright pink flip flops. How had he never noticed her in that way before? Shaking his head, he dragged his gaze away from the way the spandex cupped her ass, thrust the vase into her hands, ignored the questioning look she shot his way, spun on his heel, and fled the room.
     
     

Chapter Fourteen
    Renee was a fast worker; when Michael came back to his mothe r’ s room, he could hear Eva and Renee laughing together, the sound drifting faintly through the door. At his knock, the laughter was silenced and a quick shuffling sounded, before Eva called ,“ Come on in ! ”
     
    He opened the door to find his mother propped up in bed, a pile of pillows behind her back. The bed had been lowered all the way, and Renee was kneeling on the mattress at the head of the bed, behind the stack of pillows, her hands buried in Ev a’ s ash blonde hair.
     
    Fortunately, there was n’ t a lot of i t – Eva wore her hair somewhere between a long pixie and a short bob, both for style and for easy maintenance. There was a long-told family story about Eva as a young mother, with dark blonde hair to the middle of her back, matted with baby vomit from when Harmony had had an especially vicious bout of stomach flu. Later that afternoo n – post-shower, of cours e – she had stumbled down the stairs of the family home, exhausted. Sighing, she had thrust the crying baby into Ada m’ s arms, said ,“ I just ca n’ t do this anymore. Not right now , ” and fled the house. When she had returne d – in much