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“Sounds good. I’m getting tired of changing in and out of all these dresses," Jessa says as Bay helps her down from the pedestal and whispers in her ear, making her blush.

I try not to be jealous of my brothers, but damn if I don’t want what they have.

“I’ll tell Laurel you’ll be back in a little while. She’ll be the one to help you.” Clover spins on her heel and dashes out of the room.

I step forward to follow her, but Junie grabs my arm and stops me mid-stride, saying, “Hold up there a minute, Loverboy. I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Clover, but she’s really sweet—I don’t want to see you break her heart.”

Gritting my teeth, I hold back my reply. Sure, I might enjoy flirting with women, but I’ve never taken one home and made love to her like I want to with Clover. Hell, I’ve never even kissed a girl—never wanted to.

It’s not like I ever planned to be a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. It’s just that I’d never found anyone I wanted to be with until Clover.

Clover. Like the color of her eyes.

“She’s mine.” I grit out. “I would never hurt her.”

Junie studies me for a few more seconds, then says, "Okay, but if I find out that you have hurt her, you might never want to eat any brownies I make for you.”

She doesn’t have to spell it out—the threat is clear. Hurt Clover and face a laxative in my favorite dessert.

“I won’t.” Satisfied with my answer, she drops my arm and lets me pass.

It doesn’t take me long to catch up with Clover in what I assume is her office, since it’s covered in fabric with sketches hanging on the wall—all except for the wall right beside her desk, where one of our charity firefighter calendars hangs.

Her eyes track mine as she gasps in surprise upon realizing what I’m looking at. “I bought it for charity. It was a good cause.” She says in a rush.

“Sure, you did.” I chuckle.

“What’s so funny about that?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“What’s funny is that it’s September.”

“So?”

“So, Clover, what’s funny is that it’s September, but your calendar still shows February, the month I was the model.”

four

Clover

Crap. This can’t behappening. That big jerk told me I was his, then left me all alone in the garden, waiting almost two hours for him to come back. The embarrassment of knowing he wasn’t going to return made me leave after waiting nearly ninety minutes.

I need to get him out of here before he tries to touch me and notices that my body isn’t as firm as it was the night of the masked ball when I wore spandex to hide my curves. The loose-fitting sewing smock I’m wearing makes me look shapeless. It hangs down past my thighs, almost to my knees, leaving only a small part of my black leggings showing.

It’s a good thing his discarded mask is in my bedroom at home, not on display in my office like that darn calendar. “So, what if it is?”

“So, what if it is, Cinderella, is I think you know exactly who I am.”

“Are you going to keep repeating everything I say before you answer?” This man is so infuriating.

“I don’t know. Are you going to let me take you out on a date?”

Four weeks ago, I would have fallen for his smooth-talking style, but not after the way he left me. “Why don’t you ask Mr. Snuggles out?”

“Ah, I get it now. I was curious why you left after I asked you to wait—you’re jealous of Mr. Snuggles.”

“I am not. He’s just some stupid internet cat.” I cringe at my terrible retort, but this man has me so flustered I can’t think clearly.

“He certainly is, and he’s spoiled rotten.” He moves closer, lifting his hand to my hair, pulling a random pencil from the tight bunI’m wearing, and throws it on my desk. “Do you know why I was so late getting back to you?” His hand finds the clip in my hair that’s holding all my hair in place. “You know I came back for you, right?”