Murphy's Law by Lori Foster Page A

put his chin to the top of her head.
    â€œYou’re not dressed, Ashley.”
    His throat looked so appealing that she took a small taste of him—and wanted more. “I’m supposed to do all that at Jude’s.” She tightened her legs and nipped at his chin. “He’s got a whole blasted staff waiting to work me over and make me presentable.”
    â€œStaff?” Quinton tilted her back to see her face.
    â€œYeah. Make-up artist, hair stylist, manicurist, and so on and so on.” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s why I’m scrubbed clean with no makeup. I don’t think Jude and May trusted me to do it right.”
    â€œNo, I’m sure that’s not it. You always look lovely. More likely, it’s a treat, a way to thank you for taking part in their special day. It’s not uncommon for the females in a wedding party.”
    Impressed, Ashley asked, “Do you just know everything about everything?”
    â€œI don’t know enough about you.” Without straining, he balanced her against him with one hand curved under her bottom, and with the other, he smoothed her hair. “Will your parents be at the wedding? I’d like to meet them.”
    How naïve. She shook her head and said, “I don’t have parents.”
    He gave her an indulgent look. “Nature decrees otherwise.”
    â€œMaybe once long ago I did. But I divorced myself from mine, remember? Far as I’m concerned, they’ve ceased to exist.”
    He appeared troubled by her sentiments, so she teased him, saying, “Besides, you wouldn’t want to meet them. Trust me on this. Meeting May’s parents will be enough of a trial.”
    â€œWhy? What’s wrong with her parents?”
    Using one finger, she made a loop-de-loop in the air. “They’re insane. Not just a little goofy, but full-blown nuts. May’s brother, Tim, is their golden child, the heir apparent who can do no wrong, regardless of the fact he’s a weasel. Her mom’s a mean, depressed drunk and a chain smoker. Her dad’s a sleaze and a habitual cheater. And May is keeper of the loony bin, the one they all rely on to make sure they don’t destroy themselves.”
    â€œWas she poor, like you?”
    â€œNo way. May’s family owns a car dealership and they’ve always managed to stay afloat, despite a lot of extravagances, mostly thanks to May.” Ashley ran her palm along his jaw. He’d shaved recently and his skin was smooth and warm. “Did I tell you that May owns an art gallery? That’s how she and Jude met. They share a love for art. After their honeymoon, they’re going to do some major traveling around the world, promoting the SBC now that Jude’s bought into it as more than a fighter. May hopes to make some contacts with other artists and maybe pick up a few new pieces.”
    He put a tiny peck to the bridge of her nose. “You have very fascinating friends.”
    â€œYeah. I’m going to miss them. But Denny will still be around. And speaking of Denny…Which of you ordered Flint to escort me to my car when I finished my shift?”
    Rather than answer, Quinton softly kissed her cheekbone, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip before nibbling, and finally pressed his mouth firmly against hers.
    As usual, Ashley melted. He tasted good and smelled even better and the careful, loving way he touched her made her stomach flutter.
    â€œI did.”
    The soft admission broke the sensual spell. “Hey, you can’t—” His mouth closed over hers again, smothering her rebuke. It was a rotten, macho-inspired tactic, and still she allowed herself to relax in his arms. She even went so far as to kiss him back.
    But the second he lifted his head, she said, “Don’t try to take over my life, Quinton. I mean it.”
    â€œI want you safe.”
    â€œAnd you think I