Page 62 of Holding On To Good

And damned if Urban didn’t seriously consider doing just that until Toby—another mind reader—took the bowl out of Urban’s hand. “I’ve got that.”

Leaving Urban to snatch up a handful of silverware before going back into the house.

Inside, he recycled the bottles and dropped the silverware in the sink with a loud clang. Yanked open the dishwasher.

Toby set the bowl on the counter next to the stove then leaned back, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“I’ll load the dishwasher,” Urban said. “You can bring the rest of the dishes in.”

“There a reason you don’t want to go back out there?”

Images flashed through his mind. Of Miles grinning and flirting with Willow. Of her eating it up like she had along with her three slices of pizza and two bowls of salad.

Urban stabbed the silverware into the bottom tray. “No.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding Willow.”

“I can’t avoid her. We run a business together.”

“Is that the problem? You two fighting about J&K?”

“We’re not fighting.”

Toby straightened. “You barely said a word to her or anyone else, which, even for you, is taking the whole quiet thing to its limits. And the way you kept glowering at Miles, I thought you were going to rip his heart out and shove it down his throat. Not that I blame you. Miles has that effect on people but you’re not usually one of them.”

Because he had control. Always. Even when he did get into it with one—or more—of his brothers, it was on Urban’s terms. He didn’t fly off the handle, lose his temper or his cool.

And he’d kept quiet because he’d had nothing to say. He wasn’t like Miles, talking just to hear his own voice. Or Toby, who was always quick with a joke. He didn’t feel the need to share every goddamn thought that popped into his head.

Had learned a long time ago that when those thoughts involved Willow, it was best to keep them to himself.

“I’ll ask again,” Toby said, standing in the middle of the space between the sink and the island, tatted arms crossed. “What happened between you and Willow last night?”

Urban shoved him aside and went back to the sink. Turned on the hot water and squirted in dish soap. “I told you. Nothing.”

Except she’d kissed him.

And he’d dreamed about her.

Something he hadn’t done in a long time.

Something he hadn’t let himself do in a long time, he amended. But last night, she’d wiggled into the dark recesses of his mind, invading his thoughts when his defenses were down.

It had started out innocent enough. He’d been back in her room, covering her with the gray blanket. Her eyes had opened and she’d smiled at him.

Then it’d changed from memory to fantasy. Because in his dream, she’d been stone-cold sober and completely, one hundred percent in control of her decisions.

And when she’d kissed him, he’d kissed her back.

He’d kissed her and touched her, one hand sliding into the short cap of her hair, the other slipping under her shirt to cup her small breast. Then their clothes had disappeared and she’d pushed him back until he sat on the edge of the bed and she straddled him. Rode him, leaning forward to murmur in his ear.

Do you ever wonder?

He’d woken up gasping for breath, heart racing, hands fisted in the sheets, cock throbbing.

Do you ever wonder?

Hell yes, he’d wondered.

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