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I didn’t want to lie, but I also didn’t want to worry him, so the best bet was to evade the questions. “Not tonight.”

He wasn’t easily deterred, and he could read me like a book. “There’s something else. I can see it in your eyes. What aren’t you telling me, Firefly?”

“It’s just this stuff with Kenna is a lot harder and more complicated than I expected. I’m pretty sure she hates me.” Multiple times I’d been warned about the fragile state of my sister’s mental health, but the girl who I’d gotten to know the last week wasn’t at all like I’d expected. She did seem vulnerable or feeble to me. Did they not see how she used her supposed naivety to wrap them around her finger? Or perhaps not so much anymore, and that was what had her so upset.

His hand glided down the side of my hip, slipping under my thigh to pull my leg so it rested on top of his. “I’m sure it is an adjustment for everyone, having all three of you home. It will take time. Her world was turned upside down like yours. I imagine it will be rocky for a while until she finds her place again. She expected to come back and pick up her life where she left, but two years have gone by. A lot has happened, and it was naive of her to believe we’d all just be waiting for her to come back.”

I lifted my head, resting my chin on his chest. “She wants you,” I stated boldly. I wouldn’t sugarcoat the situation. He needed to realize what was going on here.

He briefly brushed his eyes over my face. “I’m not a prize. She doesn’t get to compete for my attention.”

“You don’t like to be objectified like a piece of meat?”

His lips twitched. “You know what I’m saying. It doesn’t matter what she says or does. Or what I did in my past. Everything changed when I met you.”

“Good answer.” Satisfied, I leaned down and pressed my lips against his. I kept it short, knowing if I lingered too long, I’d never get any sleep tonight, and now that I was with Brock, exhaustion slammed into me. His mere presence calmed every limb and muscle in my body. I yawned. “Will you hold me?”

“All night,” he whispered, settling me into his arms. He draped the blankets over us, not that I needed them. The warmth of his body was enough to keep me warm.

Closing my eyes, the anxiety, the worry, the fear, the jealousy, all of it just went away.

“How do you expect me to sleep when you’re wearing that?” he asked after a moment of quiet, his finger skimming inside the band of my panties.

“By closing your eyes,” I muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips.

“Hmm. I might not like that you are working at that bar, but it was definitely hot seeing you running around, taking orders.”

My brow lifted. “You have a thing for waitresses, Taylor?”

“Only when they look like you.”

“So if Kenna were to—”

His lips cut me off, silencing me from finishing that statement. “No, Firefly. Only you. You might share DNA with Kenna and Grayson, but there is only one you.”

I nuzzled in closer against his shoulder, my eyes drawn to his face. “So it’s not like you’re banging your best friend.”

Those aqua eyes shuttered. “It hadn’t been until you put the idea into my head.”

My lips curled. “You’re welcome.”

The pads of his fingers skimmed over my lower stomach, causing the muscles to quiver. “You better find a way to erase it from my head. I don’t want to think about Grayson when I’m inside you.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Gross. I don’t want that either. Goodnight, Taylor,” I said with a smile, closing my eyes once again.

This time he remained silent, his fingers drawing lazy circles, and I fell asleep with ease, the steady beating of his heart against the palm of my hand following me into my dreams.

Something warm glided across my skin. My lower stomach to be exact, and I strained to push through the cloud of sleep still gripping me. I finally batted my eyes open, and the room was still mostly dark, only the teeniest bit of soft light peered through the curtain, telling me it wasn’t quite morning yet, but somewhere in between the hour when night was about to pass the torch to day.

Brock’s head was not where it should be on the pillow beside me, but lower down the bed, dipped over my belly. His breath fluttered over my skin.

“What are you doing?” I gasped as his tongue darted out, no longer sure if I cared, only that he didn’t stop.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” His words feathered lightly over my skin, and I sucked in a breath.

“Asshole,” I muttered, my fingers lacing into his hair.

“Does that mean you want me to stop?” His head lifted slightly as if to carry out his threat.


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance