The one I wanted.
“There’s more stuff in here.” Lexi stole the package from me and tipped it over.
Out poured a red pen with hearts all over it, a bookmark, a postcard with all of her book covers on it, and a few goofy stickers and pins.
“Umm,” I said carefully, and gazed at her, “thanks?”
The last thing I wanted to do was express my excitement.
I didn’t want anyone to know I read—and loved romance novels.
“You’re welcome. It’s signed, see,” she said, yanking the book out of my hand and paging to the front.
Sure enough, it said, “To Trey, my biggest fan. Love always, Jane Jefferies.”
She’d drawn a big heart beside her name—and I thought it was cute.
How did she get a signed copy of a brand-new Jane Jefferies novel?
I was dying to ask her.
Too bad I couldn’t.
“Thanks, sweetheart. That’s really nice of you.” I attempted to play it cool.
But in truth?
I wanted to immediately open it to chapter eight and devour the rest in one sitting.
I casually set it down on the coffee table as though it weren’t the prized possession it was.
Lexi started laughing, then she grabbed my arm.
A flood of heat traveled through me at her casual touch.
I could already feel my jeans getting tighter.
“I know you read her books,” she said with the most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen.
I frowned.
Then I denied the shit out of that statement, “What are you talking about? Pfft, I don’t read romance novels.”
That caused Lexi to start giggling so hard, that even her breasts shook.
I knew this because I watched.
“Trey, I know. It’s okay. We’ll keep your secret, don’t worry.”
We.
Did she just say—we?
I must be hearing things.
“Um, what?”
“I saw you reading on your phone in our hotel room. You thought I was sleeping.”