Page 20 of The Cupcake Standard

Greg pulled up in front of our apartment building, hurrying around to let me out.

The Three Musketeers blinked at me, sitting frozen like little statues.

“Oh, don’t worry, girls, Greg will drive you home. Take care now.” I brought the fifth of whiskey out of the limo and smiled up at Greg as he shut the door behind me.

The color of his gray eyes reminded me of steel, but his smile was as soft as room-temperature butter.

I could easily see us being friends. “Thanks for everything.” I grinned, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially, “Take the bumpy way home, okay?”

“Anything you say, Miss.” He tipped his hat one time, his smile thoughtful as he watched me walk into the building.

The doorman greeted me, and I realized I had a very real problem. “So I was straight out of the hospital coming here last time. And I have no idea which floor or room I’m supposed to go to. I’m with Derek Elgin.” Not to mention my issue with numbers.

He glanced at my whiskey.

I’d only had a glass. Or three.

“Let me tell Mr. Elgin you’re here.” Doorman code for ‘let me ask someone for help’.

A few moments later, the elevator doors slid open, and there was Derek, hands in his jeans’ pockets, green long-sleeved shirt clinging to his chest. And a smirk on his lips. “What seems to be the problem?”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “The problem is that I don’t know where I live.” My feet screamed as I strode over to the elevator, but I kept it off my face until the doors closed behind me. Then I thrust the whiskey into Derek’s hands, grabbed his arm for support and shucked off my shoes.

A rough finger ran down my exposed shoulder before I straightened, his husky voice giving me goose bumps. “So much skin. Weren’t you cold?”

I tossed my ponytail out of my face as I stood up. “Yeah, but I looked better than the Musketeers, so it was worth it. Now give me back my whiskey.”

“Whiskey?” His blue eyes widened as he looked down at the bottle in his hand. He gaped at me a minute as I took it back. “How? Who?”

“Spit it out already.” I needed comfy clothes and more whiskey ASAP.

“This is from the private stash.” He spoke with an air of awe. “How in the world did you get your hands on a bottle?”

I glanced down at the fifth cradled in the crook of my arm. Well, that explains why it’s so good. “Someone has taste.” After glancing back at Derek, I shrugged. “The other girls were having champagne, and I needed something stronger. So I rolled down the divider and asked for it. I might be inclined to share if you make it worth my while.” I waggled my eyebrows, teasing.

His blue eyes darkened like the sea before a storm, and I gulped. More intensity. Too much. I retreated, thinking the elevator wall was right behind me. It wasn’t. I teetered dangerously until his warm hand splayed across my bare back, steadying me. My stomach flipped as his citrus and clove scent stole my breath.

The elevator dinged, and the door slid open as his hand left my skin. I missed his touch immediately, then cursed myself the whole way. He unlocked the door, muttering about needing to get me keys.

Liam sprawled across the couch. “Hey.”

Derek nodded, guiding me past him with a hand at my back once more and his lips at my ear. “Need help with dress removal?”

“Yes, please.”

In my room, he shut the door behind us. I dropped my shoes onto the thick carpet, leaning forward on the low dresser to peer at myself in the mirror. The built-in bra of the halter part of the dress really did a decent job perking my ample chest up. When I tossed my hair back, I yelped as a strand got caught in my dangly earring. Derek rushed over.

“I’ve got it. You just handle the zipper.” I’d had a hard enough time pulling it up in the first place. If he unzipped me, I could undo the top part after he left, and I would have a win-win on my hands. This damn piece of hair is really caught.

I was so focused on it that I didn’t notice Derek unclasping the halter top until my dress fell around my ankles. My first instinct was to yelp again and cover myself, but something in his eyes stopped me. My gaze locked on his face in the mirror. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Neither was I.” His blue eyes took in everything. Every curve, every bump, and his gaze slid slowly over them, fascinated.

Heat bloomed within me, a slow fire starting low inside. I couldn’t look away from his piercing gaze.

His warm finger ran along a dent from the fabric digging into my skin. “What’s this?”

I shrugged. “The dress isn’t quite my size. I’m sure if I lost a few pounds—”

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