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He was the whole package—smart, kind, and attentive. Having a sexy-as-sin body was a bonus.
Glancing over his shoulder, he bared those mischievous dimples again. “Are you staring at my ass?”
With a shrug, she grinned right back at him. “Yes.”
His eyes dropped toward her breasts when he pulled his khakis to his muscular thighs. “I guess we’re even then, because I’ve stared at yours on numerous occasions. The red bike shorts and sports bra you wore to yoga class in the summer is my favorite outfit.”
Had he really noticed her months ago?
“Mine is the shorts you wear to wash your car. No shirt.” She reached for her robe at the end of the bed, happy to own her truth since he had. “I’ll be out in a minute. Bathroom stop first. Feel free to use the one in the hall if you need to.”
He took one step toward the doorway and immediately backtracked. After a quick brush of his lips on hers, he headed for the hallway again. Before he disappeared, slightly off-key singing carried into the bedroom. “I saw Laurel kissing Beauregard underneath the mistletoe last night.”
Caught between an unladylike snort and a swoon, she swayed into the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror confirmed what she’d suspected when she woke. She was truly and hopelessly in love with Bull Walters. A few splashes of cool water on her face didn’t wash the obvious emotion from her face, but she hurried to the kitchen anyway.
Sharing breakfast, talking about where and when to meet up later, and lingering over a goodbye suggested he felt the same way about her.
She finally closed the front door and returned to the master bath for a shower. Her overused muscles loosened under the warm spray, a good thing since she planned to use them again tonight.
Dressed in leggings, another holiday-themed sweater, and fuzzy slippers, she spread out her wrapping supplies on the bedroom. As she finished cutting paper for the first gift, her phone buzzed and hummed on the nightstand. Her pulse stuttered with the instant hope that Beau was calling. She pushed down her disappointment when Robin’s name lit up the screen. “Hi. How’re you feeling today?”
Her friend snickered. “Not as good as you, obviously, but better. Jay and I saw Bull’s truck parked in your driveway bright and early this morning. And no fresh tire tracks in the snow. Although I have to say, we weren’t surprised he spent the night, considering how inseparable you were at the party. It seems serious.”
Needing to confide at least some of her feelings to Robin, Laurel switched to speaker and continued her task. “I hope so. I like him a lot.”
“What I don’t get is why he wanted us to set up the two of you if you were already together. I mean, the party clearly wasn’t your first date.”
With a piece of tape poised to seal the long edge of the package, Laurel frowned. “Beau was supposed to be my blind date for the party? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t he tell me? I don’t like that he tried to trick me into dating him. I know I’m going to regret asking this, but when did he ask about setting that up?”
“I don’t know. Probably sometime right around Thanksgiving. Yes, when they played flag football at the park after dinner. How long have you been seeing each other?”
That was the hundred-thousand-dollar question—the one that required another fib or admitting the truth.
This is why I hate lying. And why didn’t Beau tell me about the fix-up? Or ask me to the party himself?
She balled up the tape and tossed it toward the wastebasket next to the nightstand. “I can’t answer that question without incriminating myself. Gads, I feel like I’m back in high school, if high school had included guys wanting to date me.”
“Incriminating yourself? What does that…” Robin’s sigh spoke volumes about what ideas had popped into her head. “Did you pretend to already have a date to avoid the one we set up for you?”
Her friend’s direct question demanded a direct answer, but Laurel pushed to her feet and paced to the closet and back first. “Yes, and I asked Beau to be my fake date. Yesterday.”
Another stretch of silence filled the room. “Yesterday. Okay, but if you and Bull aren’t actually a couple, why was his truck parked in your driveway this morning? Please tell me you didn’t hook up with him for a one-night stand.”
“Of course not.” She plopped onto the bed and avoided looking at the rumpled covers. “If I was going to have a one-stand stand, I wouldn’t do it with my next-door neighbor.”
“But you did have sex with him. Am I right?”
“Maybe.” The evasion pricked her conscience, especially since she could trust Robin with the truth. Unfortunately, she was no longer sure she could trust Beau to honest with her. “Fine, yes. And I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”
“So…you and Laurel Street, huh? When did that happen?”
Half wishing he’d created an excuse to miss what had started as the annual Dawg’s House lunch with his out-of-town friends, Bull took another bite of his burger and rolled his eyes at Dirk Wagner.
Jay chuckled and leaned in, like he was about to reveal a big secret. “He won’t admit it, but I think she asked him out last week. That’s when he stopped begging me to play matchmaker. I had a blind date all lined up for them and everything.”
“Anyway, it’s about damn time.” Dirk squeezed more ketchup onto his plate and dunked a fry. “I still don’t understand why you were too chicken to ask her out. If she turned you down, you could’ve just moved on to the next—”
“Women aren’t interchangeable.” Shaking his head, Bull aimed a glare across the table. “Why are we friends with this guy?”
