Free Love's Back Pocket by Heather C. Myers Page A

dull due to sleep, that resident sparkle was still in there, waiting to be set aflame. He was wearing a dull, navy blue wife beater and light blue and white striped pajama pants. Nothing was on his feet as he padded over to the two, rubbing his eyes with his palm. Holly looked up at him, surprise written in her eyes as she took in his very, very broad shoulders and well-defined arms. The shirt left little to the imagination, and she realized that though this man wasn’t exactly the tallest person ever, he was incredibly fit and well-built. Immediately, she looked away and set her hands down flat on the surface of the table, trying to ignore the fact that Tommy was sitting down next to her.
     
    For whatever reason, he leaned toward Holly so closely that his whiskers tickled the top of her shoulders, and he inhaled her scent deeply before pulling back and letting out a content sigh. “You smell good,” he mumbled, his voice ragged with sleep as he threw a lazy look over at her. “Not many women smell good in the morning, you know. But you smell good.”
     
    Holly smiled tightly and chanced a look up Victor. Any sort of praise he had previously given her had all but vanished from the older man, and now his lips were pressed tightly together in a disapproving manner.
     
    Tommy followed Holly’s gaze and he gave the psychologist a lopsided grin. “’Morning, Vicky,” he greeted, running his hand through his hair.
     
    “How many times must I ask you not to address me as such?” Victor asked. He didn’t even bother to hide his annoyance as he stared intently at Tommy. If anyone else had been under such scrutiny, they might fidget, look away, or feel intimidated, but not Tommy. Tommy seemed completely immune, like a child who had little respect for any sort of authority.
     
    “Don’t deny that you don’t like it, Vicky,” Tommy taunted as he smiled. His whole face smiled along with his mouth, and Holly watched him. It was hard to pull her eyes away from the man next to her. She never knew what to expect next with him, and she found she was quite fascinated and curious as to what might happen next.
     
    “Yes, well,” the older man muttered, standing up and placing his dishes in the dish washer. With a curt nod, he headed out of the kitchen and into what Holly assumed was his room.
     
    With the somewhat abrupt exit of Victor, Tommy placed his elbow on the table and cradled his cheek in his palm, his eyes blatantly staring at Holly. His dark eyes took in everything about her, be it her upturned nose, her sharp cheekbones, her full, kissable lips just begging to be touched. Before she even realized what he was doing, he reached his other hand up and cupped her cheek into his palm. She immediately tensed underneath his touch, but instead of letting her go, his strong thumb caressed the hollow of her cheek. Holly had no idea how to react; she knew she should probably push him away, tell him this was not supposed happen between two professionals, but something completely ridiculous caused her mouth to remain shut—she liked the way his skin felt upon hers.
     
    “Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, leaning his head forward. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath on the curve of her neck.
     
    “Are you trying to seduce me?” Holly asked, her voice just above a whisper as she turned her head so she could meet his eyes with hers. His long, round nose grazed the bridge of her own, as his dark eyes slipped behind his long lashes. “Because if you are, it’s not going to work.” With that, she stood up, causing him to lose his grip on her. “Do you take nothing seriously, Tommy?” she asked. “Is everything a game to you? Is everything funny?”
     
    “If the world wasn’t funny, it wouldn’t be worth living in,” he remarked, leaning back a bit so his position was more comfortable.
     
    “Do you realize that by you forcing bad jokes on everyone, you make their happiness vanish for a bit?”