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Fucking A. What the hell was wrong with him?

“You have got to be kidding me.” Asher strode forward with a dark frown. “Tell me what I think just happened in here did not happen.”

Sonofabitch.

He knew he’d screwed up, and yet his hackles still rose at his younger brother’s angry tone. “It’s none of your damn business.”

“Come on, man. You and Roxanna? The two of you can’t even stand the sight of each other.”

“We called a truce.”

“So this was mutual?”

His jaw went slack in offended shock as he darted his gaze between his brother and his sober-faced fiancé. “Of course it was mutual,” he bit out. “I can’t believe you would even ask that.”

“I think what Asher meant was, Rox seemed upset when she left,” Honor murmured.

He jerked his head up. What was she upset about?

“Did you two argue or something?”

“No.” She hadn’t given him a chance to argue anything.

And what, exactly, would you have argued?

His jaw clenched. He had no clue.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but you’d better not hurt her,” his brother warned.

“Me hurt her?” Resentment surged forward again. “She’s the one who just fucked me and left.”

Honor’s eyes widened, and Asher’s fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t be so crude.”

“Well, she did. But whatever. Like I said, it’s none of your damn business.”

He brushed past the both of them and left exactly as Roxanna had such a short time ago.

When he got to his vehicle, he sat in the driver’s seat and stewed. Why was he so angry? And why was his chest still so tight every breath hurt? He should be relieved the virtual virgin hadn’t turned into a clinging vine begging him to love her.

Dramatic much?

He growled his frustration at the voice in his head and started the engine to drive to his hotel. Family obligations or not, he never should’ve come to the damn party. The numbers he wrote on his checks had never screwed him over and left him wanting to punch something.

By late Monday afternoon, Loyal was going out of his ever-loving mind—because he couldn’t get Roxanna out of his mind. With his father’s campaign in hyper-drive for the election the next day, he should have been able to keep his thoughts occupied with something other than the smell of her, the taste of her, the sexy sounds she made when he made her come.

Should have, but failed. In fact, he’d gotten hard twice at headquarters and had to think about his fucking half-brother to calm himself the hell down. How pathetic was that?

Now, he found himself parked in front of Lift Your Spirit two minutes before closing. One glimpse of Roxanna under the store lights as she wove gracefully amongst the inside displays and his spirits were lifted.

So was his dick.

Obviously, one night with her—one time with her—hadn’t been enough. But maybe a few more would work her out of his system, and they could both be on their merry way.

He was out of the Land Rover and pushing the door of her shop open before he could debate the wisdom of his plan.

Really? That’s a plan? Sleep with her a few more times?

It was as good a plan as any.

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