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When his breathing was deep and even, I didn’t stop touching him. I kept curling locks of his hair over my fingers, stroking my hand down his biceps, his back, enjoying the free rein I had with his body.
Every now and again he made a low rumbling sound that I swear could’ve been a purr. I wondered if all guys in Ireland were like Kieran. If so, I could never go there. My panties would explode.
I thought about Brant—about how good he made me feel. About how I didn’t have this trepidation with him. Spending time with him, being with him, it was easy. Kieran, even if he did feel the same way about me, not so much. He was a more complicated creature.
He shifted in his sleep, his hand falling dangerously close to my breast.
I wanted him to touch me, but I wanted him to do it because he wanted to, not because he was half asleep and I was a warm body. I turned on my side and his hand moved to my ass.
Of course it did.
I looked down at his face. His black lashes dusted his cheeks and a rebellious lock of hair curled down over his forehead. He was as beautiful as any work of art in the Nelson-Atkins. It was almost painful to look at him.
He still wasn’t Finn McCool. He was Kieran.
Kieran who buried his face in my cleavage. I was almost worried he was going to smother himself, but I wouldn’t deny it was nice having him there.
He’d said he knew I was a woman—meaning he wasn’t unaware of my assets.
A stray seed of hope bloomed. Maybe I could have him after all, but what would that mean for our friendship? What if it didn’t work out?
And what about Brant?
This felt too right to worry about that.
Until I saw April’s panties on the floor. Her tiny, lacy, delicate, pink panties that she’d worn for her night with Finn Fucking McCool.
Bile churned and I hated everything. I hated the way I’d acted, the thoughts in my head, my emotions—I felt like a total fucking psycho.
I suddenly couldn’t stand for Kieran to touch me. He’d been touching someone else, fucking someone else, but he came to me to feel safe? But I wasn’t safe at all.
I untangled myself slowly, easing away from him. Part of me wanted him to wake up, to notice I was leaving, but he didn’t. He scrounged in the bed and was still. As if I’d never been there.
I poured a glass of wine, grabbed my Kindle and ran a hot bath. Sinking into the heat, I let the bubbles and wine leach away my stress and I lost myself in a Virginia Nelson novel. After I’d finished it, I put my Kindle to the side and ran some more hot water.
She was my go-to read for happily ever after. I kind of wished she’d write my life story because then I’d know that after all of this bullshit, that I’d end up exactly where I was supposed to be with exactly who I was supposed to be with.
And I definitely had my doubts.
Why couldn’t I be in love with Brant? That would make things so much easier.
I suppose I hadn’t even given myself or him a chance. Not really. I was pining over Kieran, which was an absolute waste of time.
All of this was. I should get my head straight and work on Chubbalicious. The rest of this could wait. I still needed to finish the alterations for Hollie’s dresses and I only had a week.
My phone rang. It was April. I didn’t want to answer it. I’d just fixed my brain to where it was in a workable place, but I knew she’d keep calling until I answered. I considered turning it off, but then I’d wonder what she wanted, or when she was going to show up because I hadn’t answered.
“What are you doing?”
“In the bath.”
“Come over.”
“I can’t. I’ve got to finish these alterations.”
“From the bath?” she asked.
I narrowed my eyes. “Obviously not. I was taking a break with some wine, some Virginia and some bubbles.”
“Rosa is still at Gavin’s. I think they really hit it off. We need to plot to find someone for Hollie.”
“Well, I was going to pair her with Austin for the shoot. She likes the cowboys.”
“That’s brilliant.” She was silent for a long moment. “So, I was a bitch earlier.”
“Me too, maybe just a little.” I didn’t want to fight with her. I loved her. And that was as close to an apology as either of us would get.
But did I love her more than Kieran? No. I didn’t.
“After Kieran leaves tonight, do you think you could grab my panties? I forgot them.”
I’d seen dozens of girls use that as an excuse to come back over in hopes it would lead to something more. It was interesting that she asked me to get them for her. “Do we need to be that close?”
“Yes. I know that’s a girl-that-won’t-go-home technique. I really didn’t do it on purpose. I just didn’t want to put them back on after…well. Yeah.”
