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I didn’t have any words.

Had I completely missed Henry’s interest in her?

Of course I hadn’t. And if I’d seen any on Sophie’s part for him, I probably would have stepped aside and not pursued my own in her.

“Are you interested in him?” I asked tightly. My stomach had more knots than a pirate ship, and something about the idea of her going for dinner with my brother really bit at me.

“Do you think I’d be here right now if I was?” She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t. And I had to tell him that, too.”

The tension left my body.

“And perhaps you should check your own jealousy before you come at me,” she added, looking away.

I sighed and walked over to her, slowly bringing my hand to her face. I tilted her head, lowering mine, and pressed my lips against hers in a gentle kiss.

There was something about the way she sighed into the touch, how she leant into me just enough that I wasn’t sure she even knew she was doing it.

“It’s completely irrational of me,” I said in low voice, bringing her body against mine. “But the idea of you seeing anyone else makes me want to burn the place down.”

She sniffed. “That’s a little over the top.”

“You do like to tell me I’m dramatic.”

“You are.” She turned her cheek into my hand. “I suppose, in light of your admission, I can admit that I’m not too taken with the idea of you seeing anyone else, either. Even though it’s completely ridiculous and I have no business feeling like that.”

Shit.

Why did I enjoy that so much?

Something that I knew was bad? Those were words we really shouldn’t be saying to one another, and yet… here we were.

Standing here, with her wrapped in my arms, resting her head against my chest, and my chin on top of her head.

Her hair smelt like strawberries.

It always smelt like strawberries.

I didn’t know how or when I’d noticed that, but I had.

“Shit,” I whispered.

“What?”

Crap. I said that out loud.

“I, er, left the tap running.”

Sophie pulled back and looked at me, her face a mask of amusement. “Bullshit.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – SOPHIE

Emotions Schmotions

“I promise you, I can handle the entire thing,” I said, pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder. “There’s no use you rushing back for two days.”

“Ohhh, I don’t know.” Camilla’s voice crackled down the line. “I feel bad about it.”

“I’ve already done the work,” I told her, removing the teabag from the mug. “You’ll be here for, what? A day and a half, really? When you could spend that time with your family?”

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