Slowly, I lowered her back to her feet, my hands wrapped around her ribcage. The light cotton crop top had slipped up in the midst of our victory dance, and I found my thumbs gently pressed against the silken skin just below her breasts. Each breath she took pressed those ribs deeper and harder against the palm of my hand, and in a movement that was so natural, so completely comfortable, I circled my thumb there against the upper part of her abdomen.
Those deep breaths of hers sharpened to just a tiny gasp that left her lips parted and her mouth angling up at mine as I blinked, glancing into her hooded eyes.
“Liam.” As she whispered my name, I could smell the remnants of peppermint from her toothpaste.
With every ounce of my being, I wanted to take her lips in mine. I wanted to close what little space was left between us and hoist her on top of her kitchen counter to ravage her mouth and body. I wanted to suck those pearled nipples into my mouth right through the flimsy shirt she wore, suck them until she was crying out my name—not just whispering it breathlessly.
And right now, with her body pressed to mine, it took everything I had within me to take the step back from her. She had just ended her engagement last night. As much as I wanted her, I didn’t want it like this. I didn’t want to be a distraction from her pain, or a rebound, or even simply a reminder to her that she was still desired by other men… which, clearly she was, if the tenting of my pants was any indication.
A moment of pain radiated in her eyes before she blinked and looked back down at her phone that was still clutched in her hand.
“Wait, wait…” she said, swiping at her screen. “There’s a message from Elaina.” As she read, her face fell. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.”
“What?” Panic surged in my gut. “What happened? Is it my mom?”
“No, no. Your mom’s fine. It’s… they… Elaina and Neil broke up.”
I blinked, certain I’d heard Chloe wrong. “What? That… that can’t be right. They were perfect together.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, first of all, perfect doesn’t exist. And second of all… look.” She shoved her phone in my face where Elaina’s text was simple, but blunt.
Neil and I broke up. On our way back to Maple Grove this morning on the world’s most uncomfortable flight.
“They broke up,” she said again.
“Shit,” I murmured. “What the hell happened?”
Chloe shrugged and her eyes flicked to the empty liquor bottle on the kitchen counter. “Guess I’ll need to buy more tequila.”
My jaw gaped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Half-kidding. I’m not saying I’ll drink it… but I can do for Elaina what you did for me last night.”
Silence settled thick between us like fog rolling in off the lake in the early morning. Maybe we wouldn’t be best friends any time soon, after all.
The sizzling sound of burned pancakes drew both of our attentions away, and Chloe gasped, reaching for the skillet. “Shit!” she cried and held up the smoking pan for me to see. “I burned your pancake.”
I gave a sad chuckle and reached for one of the charred strips of bacon sitting on a plate beside the stove. “That’s okay… it matches the rest of the meal.” I took a bite of the bacon—luckily, I sort of liked my bacon well-done.
Chloe’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I really wanted to make you a thank you breakfast for taking care of me last night. Too bad I suck at cooking. Unless it’s the crockpot. I’m a master of crockpot stews.”
“Well, pretty much anyone can cook in a crock pot. You just throw a handful of things in there and it does all the work for you,” I said without thinking
“Wow. Thanks for kicking me when I’m down.”
I winced. “Sorry.” And that right there was why I was the king of first dates. Only first dates. Most times, I messed up and said exactly what I was thinking. I swear, my filter’s broken. Then there was no hope for a second date. Or in the rare case, she did want a second date… I usually didn’t.
With the success of Beefcakes, I’d been getting asked out a lot more. Especially in the first few weeks, I had a field day with that. I finally got to be that guy. The guy who double-booked dates—lunch with one girl, dinner with the next. Then I realized, I hated ‘that guy.’ ‘That guy’ was always the worst, biggest douchebag. And here I was embracing that behavior? It wasn’t me. And frankly, I was really, really bad at it.
I cleared my throat and slid my feet into my shoes that were resting next to the counter where I had kicked them off last night. “I should probably get going. Help Finn at the bakery.”
“Right,” Chloe said, picking at her cuticle. “Of course. Thanks again for last night. The movies. The cupcakes. The donuts. The holding my hair while I upchucked said cupcakes and donuts.”
I shrugged. “Anytime. Or… well… probably not anytime, now that my brother and your sister aren’t together. That could be tricky.”
Her eyes jerked up to meet mine. “You don’t think we can be friends because of that?”
“Would be kind of hard, don’t you think?”
Chloe snapped her hands to her hips, resting all her weight on one side while tapping a toe. “Well, that sucks.”
“Yeah,” I said, and meant it. “It does.” Chloe was fun. Lively. Boisterous. All the things I wasn’t, and I found myself drawn to her, craving more.
I made my way slowly to the door and could hear her—no, feel her—following. I smelled that light floral scent just behind me. “Take care,” I said. “Good luck on those job interviews—”
When I turned to face her, she launched herself at me. With tanned arms flung around
