Lily turns and disappears inside, leaving me alone with Grant on the porch. The silence between us crackles with unspoken words.
It’s only when I glance down that the full horror of my situation hits me square in the nipples—literally. My robe is fully open, revealing all of my soft pink silky pajamas…and bunny slippers. The top? Practically see-through thanks to the humidity, and my nipples? Front and center like they RSVP’d early to the embarrassment party.
Oh Jeez.I cringe internally right down to my toes. I look like I’ve wandered out of a sleepover and straight into a wet-and-silky-themed thirst trap.
I can feel my face igniting into a hue so red it could signal an aircraft, but Irefuseto cross my arms or make a single move to cover myself.
I’ve got pride. Even if it’s about as effective as a wet tissue in a thunderstorm right now.
When I finally glance up, Grant is looking.
No—he’sadmiring.
His gaze drags slowly, shamelessly, from the top of my flustered head to my mortified toes, pausing unapologetically on the parts I would very much like to keep out of public interest. His eyebrow arches. His mouth twitches. That cowboy smirk threatens full-blown ignition.
He’s enjoying this. The bastard isenjoyingthis.
Of course he is.
That cocky half-smile is practically carved into his face. And I know—Iknow—he caught the way my jaw dropped when he opened the door shirtless, golden and gleaming like a goddamn cowboy calendar model.
I'm the first to look away, my gaze dropping to his bare chest, which is ahugemistake. The defined muscles there make my fingers twitch with the memory of touching them.
I try to be strong. I try to maintain eye contact like a respectable human adult.
But my gaze betrays me. Hard.
It snags—hard—on the broad, bronzed plane of his chest. His pecs are firm, sculpted, like he was hand-selected by the universe to make all shirts obsolete. There’s a faint sheen of water droplets clinging to his skin, catching the light just enough to make him look criminally edible.
Then my eyes drift lower—because I’m a single woman and it’s been a while—and land on the ridges of his abs, tight and carved and way too smug about it.
My gaze drifts lower to...the V, sweet mother of lust.
That infuriating, glorious V that cuts sharp and low beneath his gray sweatpants like it’s pointing to trouble. And it is.Bigtrouble. My gaze stumbles over the bulge beneath his waistband—undeniable, unapologetic, and very much not subtle.
My mouth goes dry, my thighs betray me with a throb, and Istare—wide-eyed, shameless, borderline criminal.
“You alright there, Princess?” His voice sounding deep and low.
Snap out of it. Snap out of it!
I blink hard, like shaking off a hallucination, then blurt the first thing that pushes through the fog:
“Is Lily yourgirlfriend?”
Great. Perfect. Very smooth. Ask about the girlfriendwhile drooling. That’s definitely not emotionally unhinged at all.
Grant blinks, surprised. “Lily?” Then his grin widens. “No. Wait. Hold up. You thought Lily was mygirlfriend?”
“I didn't know what to think,” I admit. “You never mentioned her and—shut up, stop laughing.” I say with my arms crossed.
“I’m not laughing,” he says with his shoulders still shaking. “I’m just processing how my half-naked city girl—sorry,writer—got jealous of mysister.”
My brain snags on the “myhalf naked city girl” but I brush it off in my defense.
“Pffft”I scoff, crossing my arms again.
“I wasn’t…ugh…I wasn’t jealous,” I huff, completely failing at nonchalance. “I was… situationally confused. And horrifically underdressed.”
