Page 31 of Filthy Twisted Devil

When I push open the door to the prep kitchen, I’m surprised to find Maura standing there, leaning against one of the tables. She smiles sheepishly when she sees me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

Maura nods. “I just needed a minute. The crowd out there is a lot.”

I smile sympathetically. “I get it. You’ve got hundreds of people here, and it’s a lot. But trust me, everyone’s having a great time.”

“Good. I feel bad that big parties aren’t really my thing. I’m not exactly the world’s best hostess.”

“Hey, give yourself a break!” I insist. “You’re pregnant. You’re supposed to be on bedrest, and instead, you’re out here, raising money for people who need it. I got a sneak peek of the event photos, and they're amazing. You're going to slam through your fundraising goals.”

“I hope so. I'm just glad I could—” Maura stops, putting her hand on her stomach. “Sorry. She's kicking. You don't have to, but do you want to feel?”

“Of course!”

Maura takes my wrist and guides my hand to her stomach. I feel the slight pressure of the baby kicking and laugh. “Wow, she's strong!”

The baby kicks again, three times in a row. Maura smiles. “I think the baby likes you.”

“She should, considering how much effort I put into her party!” I joke. “This is nothing, baby. Just wait until you see your first birthday party. It'll make this shindig look like an intimate gathering.”

“Aren't you lucky?” Maura coos to her belly. “You get your auntie Eden to plan all your parties.”

Warmth spreads through my chest. I might have spent my life surrounded by men, but I've always wanted a real circle of female friends. For the first time in my life, it feels like I might get to have that.

“I should get back to the party.” Maura sighs. “Eventually, people tend to notice if the pregnant lady goes missing. And by people, I mean my husband.”

I chuckle. “I'm just headed back to the kitchen to get some more bottles of sparkling cider. When I come back, I'll make sure your glass is full and your husband is behaving.”

“I appreciate that.” She takes a deep breath and braces herself before she rejoins the party.

I walk to the back of the room, where the shelves are stocked with extra bottles. Of course, some genius decided to put the sparkling cider on the very top shelf. I’m in the middle of deciding whether to grab a chair to stand on or just get on my tiptoes when the door opens again. I turn around, expecting Maura.

Instead, I see Luke standing in the doorway, his hands casually shoved in his pockets. He’s wearing a tan suit that makes the blue-green of his eyes stand out and looks damn good on his trim figure.

Not that I’m looking.

Heat rushes to my face. I’m not supposed to be thinking about Luke like that. I’m at work right now, running around in my dowdy work blacks, probably with yellow icing smeared on me somewhere. Now’s not the time to be thinking about how good he looks.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I ask, then immediately feel ridiculous. That’s how I’d talk to a random guest who wandered back into the staging area. Luke’s not a stranger—then again, he’s not quite a friend, either.

“I was looking for you,” Luke says.

I blink, surprised. “Why?”

He steps away from the doorway, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. Any sounds from the party are immediately muffled. I swallow. He’s close enough that I can catch the faint scent of his cologne.

“What were you doing back here?” he asks, ignoring my question.

“I was getting more sparkling cider.” I gesture back to the shelf over my shoulder. “It’s too high, though.”

He nods. Without waiting for me to ask, he strides next to me, his shoulder brushing against mine as he reaches up for the box. He hauls it down easily, the bottles clinking inside the cardboard. He sets it down on the floor, then stands.

“Thanks,” I whisper, my mouth dry. I’m all too aware that there’s maybe two inches of space between our bodies.

Luke’s eyes are dark as they flick down to my lips. My chest swells as I inhale a shaky breath.

Without touching me, he moves even closer, until I can feel the heat radiating off his body. My back meets the shelf behind me, glass bottles clinking softly. He doesn’t reach for me. He just lowers his head, angling his face to the side, letting the almost-touch stretch until my whole body aches with it.