Free Changing Lanes (The Lone Stars Book 3) by Katie Graykowski Page B

regret in his voice. He really thought this was his fault.
    “Trust me, this is the most fun I’ve had all day.” Late patients at her office had put her behind for rounds at the hospital and then there was Lara Brooks. She was dying of Leukemia, and no matter what she threw at the disease it was still winning. Laney didn’t like to lose, especially when the stakes were so high. “Don’t force it. I don’t want you to rip your shirt.”
    Laughter had been in short supply until he’d stepped into her condo.
    “Let’s go into the kitchen. I have a pair of scissors.” They’d have to cut the dress off, and she didn’t have another to replace it. More than anything, she’d love to stay home tonight, order some take out, and watch a movie.
    Like a couple of zipper–conjoined twins, they lumbered into the kitchen. She went to the drawer next to the sink, and pulled out the scissors.
    “Did you just move in?” Devon looked around.
    “No, I’ve lived here for almost four years.” She followed his gaze. Now that she noticed, the kitchen was a little barren. No kitchen table, no homey curtains on the window overlooking downtown Austin, and the only appliance on the counter was her espresso machine. “I don’t cook much or for that matter, spend much time here.”
    Her life was at the hospital and training with her team. Both of those things didn’t leave much time for anything else. Why hadn’t she noticed how barren her home was until now?
    “I can see that. There’s no ‘you’ in this condo.” There wasn’t any judgment in it, just a casual comment.
    She’d never thought about it. She looked around. Everything was beige—it seemed to be her signature color. That added depression onto an already long day. Failure wasn’t her favorite state of being, and clearly she’d failed as a decorator.
    With the scissors, she started at the hem and cut.
    “What are you doing?” Devon sounded honestly scandalized.
    “Cutting my way out of this dress.” She continued. She’d love to do something sexy right now, but she had scissors in her hand and she was pretty sure that running with scissors was actually safer than sexy with scissors, at least in her hands.
    “You’re ruining it.” It was sweet that he was more worried about her clothes than she was.
    “It’s the only way out. Unless you have another plan. And, it’s not that great of a dress to begin with.” She was waist high now and working her way up to the neckline. When she finally made it to the neckline, it was a huge relief. Now her dress hung open in front and back. Did she step out of it and parade around naked? It’s not that she was prudish or self–conscious; it’s just that she didn’t do things like that. Would that be sexy or just awkward? She bit her lip puzzling through it.
    “I promise to close my eyes like a gentleman if you want to change into something else.” Devon’s voice rumbled next to her ear.
    It was better than standing here indefinitely. “I don’t have anything else like this. I only own two dresses and the other one has pizza stains all over the butt.”
    Devon was hell on her wardrobe—not that her clothes were anything special. In fact, he was a very good excuse to go shopping for new ones. Except that she’d rather remove her own appendix with a dull knife than go shopping.
    “Okay.” She slid what had been a serviceable black dress down her arms and stepped out of it. She was halfway out of the kitchen when she turned back to find Devon’s eyes glued to her body. “What happened to keeping your eyes closed?”
    “I’m no gentleman.” He was at her side in two strides. His hands went to her waist, he picked her up, wrapped her legs around his hips, and backed her to the wall. His lips were hot and demanding on hers. Not bruising, but not gentle either. His tongue thrust into her mouth and explored. His hands cupped her butt setting her firmly against him. She fisted his hair and pulled him to her.