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Last night had been an unreal encounter I wanted to repeat immediately, but I wanted Mal to feel comfortable despite the promise we’d parted on. Heather’s words flashed through my mind again.
How does he look at me?
Like… you’re a revelation.
That made me want to curl up on his chest like a cat and never leave. It was madness to be having thoughts like this after only one night together.
It must be the five orgasms, not counting the one in the dunnage. My mind instantly nixed the thought. It wasn’t the orgasms—it was Mal. I loved that he taught me to do things for myself instead of taking charge and doing itforme because he knew I was capable. The way he looked at me and saw everything, even the parts I tried so hard to hide. I’d even grown to like the way he grunted whenever I said something ridiculous.Crap.
“The pasta just needs a couple more minutes.” Heather’s voice shook me from my daze.
“Thank you, you’ve been a life saver.” I rounded the island to take over but the doorbell rang. The front door. We both look at each other.
“It can’t be Mal, he would have used the back,” she pointed out.
Right.“Back in a sec.” I cut down the hall into the foyer, tucking the length of my hair behind my ears. Whoever it was, I hoped I could get rid of them quickly. It took me a second to unjar the lock, stiff from disuse, and when I finally drew it back I froze. Mal. He’d trimmed his beard to a fine layer of scruff, hair brushed and styled away from his face. Loose flower stems starting to crumple in his fist.
“I’m early.” He caught my surprise and stepped back.
I had to peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth.“You didn’t have to knock.”
“I didn’t want to just come—” He cut off, eyes dragging down my body and up again. His breath puffed out of him like a cloud of smoke.“You look so pretty.” The flowers crumpled further.
“So do you.” He really did. He wore a perfectly ironed white dress shirt open at the collar and tucked into black trousers that showed off his trim waist. If my compliment registered, he gave no acknowledgment. I pushed the door wider and it took him a moment to move, trailing me to the kitchen without a word, Boy at his heel like always.
Mal froze in the doorway when he spotted his sister.“Don’t mind me, brother, I was just leaving.”
“Heather kept an eye on the food so I could change,” I explained.
He still didn’t speak, but I watched his cheeks tint pink as his eyes met hers. I turned to Heather, but her features were carefully blank. When I coughed pointedly, she threw up her hands.“Right, right. I’m leaving.”
I squeezed her hand as she passed.“Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime.” Tucking her bag over her shoulder, she threw back,“Have fun kids, I left some condoms on the counter—”
“Bye, Heather!” Malcolm beat me to the punch, his face fit to burst by the time the door swung shut.
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m sorry, that was—” We spoke over each other, then fell silent.
I tipped my head back, looking into his handsome face.“I’m sorry about that, I planned to get rid of her before you got here. I promise I didn’t say a word about last night.”
“I… I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
“Oh.” He didn’t mind them knowing about us. That knowledge beat around my chest.
“I’m sorry that my siblings have the most annoying habit of turning up at the wrong moment. We aren’t all that close, I swear.”
I laughed.“I actually like how close you guys are, I always wanted a sibling growing up.” The timer on the oven dinged and I raced around the island, turning down the burner before it boiled over.“Sorry… just a second. I hope pasta is all right, I know it’s kind of a safe option but I forgot to ask what you liked.”
“It’s perfect.” I paused what I was doing to look at him and we both smiled. It was sickeningly cute, but I felt so happy I didn’t even care.
I nodded to the table, dishing pasta onto the plates.“Please sit. I opened a bottle of red wine but I have water or juice if you prefer.”
He glanced at the table first, spotting the vase of peonies I set out earlier, then to his hand, seeming to remember the half-squished flowers he held. His shoulders drooped and he spun back to me.“I’m sorry I’m making such a mess of this.”
Dinner forgotten, I circled back to him and took the flowers from his grip before he could do any more damage. They were the same white daisies from his cottage that morning. I could tell from the cut of the stems they’d been handpicked.“They’re beautiful,” I said. An old boyfriend sent me a wall of pink roses once, like an entire six-foot wall. Actually, hisassistantsent them to me. Matt had called the following day to inform me how expensive they’d been. I’d take these crumpled daisies over a wall of roses every damn time.
