Unable to Resist by Cassie Graham Page A

He’s going to be here soon.”
    “It’s going to be alright, Ann. Have faith,” Mia encourages.
    I smile and bring both girls in for a hug.
    “I love you guys.”
    They both kiss me on the cheek, and I head to the loft.
    Packing my suitcase with random pieces of clothing, I take a deep soothing breath. I have no idea how long our trip will be, so I pack enough to last me a few days, figuring it’s good enough. I grab my toiletries, phone charger and I’m done. I’m not a fussy packer, as you can see.
    I have about twenty minutes before Duane is supposed to show up, so I head to the living room and sit on the couch.
    Rubbing my forehead, I make a conscious decision to not think about Brenton Hall until I get to Arizona. I have the weight of Dad’s case on my mind, and Mia reminded me that I have to ride in an airplane, so I think it’s best to push him to the back of my mind until I’m safely on the ground.

    Next thing I know someone is shaking my shoulder and silently chuckling.
    Who the hell?!
    My eyes snap open and I see Duane smiling down at me. He’s sitting on my coffee table, in blue jeans and a Boston Red Sox shirt, being impossibly handsome. No one should look that good. Ever. Wearing clothes just isn’t fair to the female race. Clothes enhance his already stunning body. I mean—we can only take so much sexiness before we explode from the overabundance of deliciousness. And this man radiates it. I feel like I need to shield my eyes.
    “Hey sleepy, we need to get going,” he calmly says to me while tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
    It feels amazing.
    Look at me, the simplest touch from him and I’m falling apart. I don’t know if it’s the tired haze I’m still in, but I lean into his hand and breathe in his clean scent. He smells like soap and hay. I know that sounds crazy, but in Arizona, we lived across from a hay field and it always smelled so sweet. It might be my favorite scent. He smells like home.
    “Mmmm, okay,” I mumble. I can’t seem to form any real sentences in my sleepy brain.
    He laughs again, and stands. My eyes follow him the entire way up, and he sticks out his hand for me to take. Like an idiot, I don’t hesitate, and accept it. As soon as I make contact, a jolt of electricity shoots to all of my parts, and my eyes instantly look at our joined hands.
    I can’t believe I’m thinking like those saps in my books. Maybe I need to lay off the romance for a bit.
    Doubtful. You love that shit.
    Duane’s breathing picks up, and I look into his eyes. He’s looking at our hands as well with a quizzical look on his face.
    Does he feel it, too?
    He pulls out of the fog first. Dropping my hand, he walks to my suitcase at the door. “Let’s get going, yeah?”
    I try to brush the disappointment off of my face and give him a smile. “Yeah,” I pause, thinking, “How did you get in here, anyway?”
    He grins and looks down at his feet.
    “Well, I knocked for a couple minutes and you didn’t answer, so I went downstairs.” He laughs. “Someone named Liv let me in once she saw me.” He gives me a knowing smile. “She seemed to know me.”
    Freaking traitor! I’m going to kill her. What the hell did my she-bitch of a best friend say to him?
    Think fast on your feet, woman!
    “Uhhh, yeah, she saw you at the bar the other night.”
    Sure that works.
    His mouth bunches on the side of his face, like he’s trying to hide his smile. He doesn’t seem to buy it, but he’s gentleman enough to let it slide. He straightens his mouth and nods his head, motioning for the door.
    I reach for my suitcase, but Duane brushes my hand away and picks it up.
    A true gentleman to the end. The feminist in me is stomping her foot in annoyance, but I’m kind of swooning.
    We go through the shop to leave. Why? I have no idea. There’s a perfectly good exit in the back.
    I must be some sort of masochist.
    Sitting behind the counter, Liv and Mia laugh out loud like teenagers. I’m sure they