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“Thank you for the jacket and the evening. And the presents, of course. It was a fantastic birthday. I didn’t have much time to be melancholic about Mom, thanks to you.”

Daniel smiles warmly. “That was the point.”

“Wow, so you did have a master plan behind the shopping spree idea. And here I thought you were just hoping to see me in sexy lingerie.”

“I was. Still am.” He steps so close our chests almost touch. A shiver runs through me, and I’d love to blame the chilly wind for it, but it’s Daniel’s fault. It’s all Daniel. He rubs my arms with his hands, resting one on my shoulder, feathering his thumb in the crook of my neck. My mouth goes dry... unlike other parts of me. My pulse quickens. Oh God, can he feel it?

***

Daniel

I remember the first time I realized the connection between Caroline and me was more than friendship. Blake had been in a minor accident because of a fraternity dare. I was outside the campus infirmary, and the waiting was turning me insane. Caroline joined me the second I told her what happened, and just having her with me made everything so much easier. She said the right things to put me at ease, even made me laugh. She knew

exactly what I needed, and I realized she was more than a friend.

After Blake came out, with a bandaged arm and a shit-happens attitude, Caroline came with us to the apartment I shared with Blake. It was late, so I suggested she sleep in my bed. In the second it took me to add that I’d sleep on the couch in my room, her cheeks were red.

Just like now.

There are two things I love about Caroline’s Irish heritage. One, her clumsy attempts to perform traditional Irish dances at weddings. She’s hopeless at it, but adorable to watch. Two, she blushes like a redhead. Even though she inherited her father’s dark hair, her mom was a redhead, and Caroline inherited her light skin. Right now, even her scalp has a reddish hue.

“Which one’s your favorite?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“The lingerie. Which set is your favorite?”

She clears her throat, fiddles with her thumb. “The black one.”

“My favorite is the white set.”

Exerting self-restraint while choosing her presents wasn’t easy. I wanted to buy the entire damn floor. I saw the white set first and knew it was perfect for her. I can easily imagine her wearing it. My favorite part is the bra clasp in the front. I’d flick it open, and her breasts would spill right into my mouth.

“I was sure. You were always a fan of clasps in the front.”

When our gazes cross, she makes a small noise at the back of her throat. Fuck me. She’s thinking the exact same thing.

“I bet the red one looks sexy as hell. All that lace,” I continue, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her breathing becomes more labored when my thumb brushes her neck. “Is it comfortable? Or does it... graze your skin?”

I trace a small line up her neck, and she presses her thighs together as if she felt my touch straight there. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. It was a light reaction, but I saw it, and she knows I did.

“It’s comfortable. There’s no lace on the inside. Just cotton.”

“Everywhere?”

She swallows hard, avoiding my eyes and laughing nervously. “Everywhere.”

A few drops of rain splatter on the asphalt. One lands straight on her nose, making her jump.

“Head inside before you catch a cold,” I say.

Her eyes widen in surprise. I bet she was expecting me to push more, ask her to invite me upstairs. Any other time I would, but this has been an emotional day for her, and I won’t take advantage. She’s so responsive to me that I know how easy this night could end between the sheets. But that’s not what I want, or what she deserves. Our connection is still here, always has been, we just fought hard to ignore it. It’s how I knew she needed a distraction today, how she could tell I’m worried without even asking. We’ve had another incident with photos leaking, and I’m coming to a conclusion I don’t like at all.

“Yeah, sure. Okay. Have a nice evening.”

“Any other plans for tonight?”

She grins. “Oh yeah, I have a date. Really hot dude. Potty mouth, six-pack, hypnotic blue eyes. Pity he’s on screen and doesn’t even know I exist.”


Tags: Layla Hagen The Bennett Family Romance