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“I’d rather if you did,” I muttered.
Another giggle burst from her. “Later.”
My brow rose along with a swell of hope in my chest. “Promise?”
She rolled her eyes and shoved me away from her. “Promise. Now, get out of here. I don’t want my sister ogling the goods.”
Chuckling, I turned, giving her some privacy to chat with her sister and me time to calm my dick the fuck down.
Chapter20
Jasmine
“Well.” Dina’s brows rose as she took in my messy hair and Micah’s T-shirt covering me to mid-thigh. “You look like you were ridden hard and put to bed wet.”
Heat flooded my face, and I stepped back.
“I know you don’t have anything to compare him to, but was he any good?” she murmured, passing me and scanning the living room. “Can’t say I haven’t wondered.”
“Ten times better than I imagined it would be,” I admitted.
She dropped the two trash bags she’d carried in and turned to face me, her scrutiny making my feet shift. “How are you?”
I struggled for words to explain the happiness and lingering wariness but settled on a single word. “Great.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, Dina.” I smiled. “Honestly.”
She nodded and looked around again. “Where is he?”
“Getting dressed.”
Her brows shot up again as she glanced down once more at his shirt and my bare breasts jutting out at her. “I hope I didn’t interrupt.”
I bit the inside of my lip to keep from giggling.
“Never mind.” She waved her hand. “Forget I said anything.”
“Want some coffee?” I asked, moving around her toward the kitchen.
“We need to meet with the florist in an hour to finalize everything.”
“Shit,” I muttered, having lost track of the days—hours. Hell, months if I was honest with myself. Micah had consumed me—
“You forgot.” Dina made a statement rather than questioning my curse.
“Yes.” I glanced over my shoulder to find her nodding and pulled up short of the coffeepot.
“Shouldn’t be surprised with the events of the last twenty-four hours,” she grumbled and heaved a sigh. “Liz’s babysitter backed out, but Mom and I can handle the meeting alone. You can stay here and do…whatever I interrupted.”
“No, I want to go. It’ll only take me a few minutes to throw some clothes on.” I hurried past her, grabbed the trash bags, and hefted them toward the bedroom. “Give me five, okay?”
Dina smiled, and it seemed some of the wedding stress melted off her shoulders. “Thank you.”
Micah was in the bathroom, so I upended one bag onto the bed and grabbed the first pair of jean shorts and tank top I saw. Panties and bras—all of the pretty ones, I noted—lay in the bottom of the second bag and spilled out over the comforter.
Grinning at my sister’s thoughtfulness, I tugged Micah’s shirt off and pulled on a pair of black, lacy panties and a matching bra.
