Page 23 of Bittersweet

He chuckled. “You’re cute.”

“Cute? What are we, twelve?” She grinned as she slid her arms up his chest and ran her fingertips over the neatly trimmed hairs at the nape of his neck. They held each other’s gaze for several long moments. Brett’s eyes were the lightest shade of brown. She hadn’t noticed that before. She hadn’t spent nearly enough time getting to know the little details like this about him.

“When he said he was an old friend … are we talking just friends or an old boyfriend?” Brett asked.

Harper took her bottom lip between her teeth and avoided his eyes.

“I see.” Brett glanced over Harper’s shoulder in the direction of the door.

“We met in college and dated for a few months. That was it.” She wanted to downplay the relationship as much as possible, because she didn’t feel like talking about this with him. And telling him Logan was the one she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with, right before he left on his trip, probably wasn’t a good idea. Especially considering the state of undress Brett had found Logan in just now.

“So I shouldn’t be worried?” There was a look in his eyes she’d never seen before. Was it insecurity? He was more confident than any man she had ever met—sure of himself in both his business and personal life. It was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place. And truth be told, she also liked him because he was nothing like Logan.

Where Brett was focused and driven, Logan was laid back and flew by the seat of his pants. Where Brett was quiet and more reserved about his feelings, Logan freely shared his and whatever else was on his mind. Brett was tall and well-dressed with his medium blond hair neatly trimmed and his face clean-shaven. He was the epitome of a put-together man. Logan, on the other hand, was average height—only a few inches taller than Harper’s five-foot seven inch frame. He shaved whenever he felt like it and often ran his fingers through his hair and called it good. His wardrobe usually consisted of a T-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. They were as different as night and day.

What she could say about both of them was they were good men, deep down where it really counted. They were kind men with big hearts.

Harper rested a hand over Brett’s heart. “Don’t be worried. They’re leaving after breakfast. And so am I.”

Brett leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Harper’s lips.

She smiled sweetly at him. “Have a safe trip.”

He kissed her once more, surprising her with more pressure than she was expecting. This wasn’t his usual tender goodbye kiss. He pulled her body flush against his and deepened the kiss. It felt like he was trying to make some kind of point, staking his claim or something, with the intensity of this kiss.

He let go and whispered, “See you Thursday.”

She stood on the sidewalk as he walked to his car, staring after him, her entire body buzzing from that kiss.

He lifted his hand in a wave, and she forced her arm to move and wave back.

Her feet didn’t move, even after he had driven away. Brett had never kissed her quite like that before. In fact, in the eight months since they began dating, they’d only made out a few times, and it had been nice and tender and kind of tame. There had been no real passion before. But it had shown up in full force just now on that sidewalk.

She was attracted to Brett, but even though he’d demonstrated what a good kisser he could be, it still wasn’t anything close to what she experienced when Logan kissed her.

Great! She couldn’t believe she was thinking about Logan after the kiss she and Brett had just shared.

She shook off the thought and went back inside, trying to will her body to stop tingling. But there was Logan, still shirtless, standing in her kitchen, which did not help the situation at all.

“Breakfast’s ready!” he proclaimed.

She approached him with her arms crossed over her chest and stopped two feet away.

He looked up from where he was dishing eggs and sausage onto a plate. “What?”

“You could have at least put a shirt on. Answering my door like that didn’t look good.” She couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling over his chest and taking in his tight abdominals.

“Does it look good to you?”

Her eyes flew back up to his and heat spread over her cheeks. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what you’re doing.” She glared at him. “Don’t.”

“But it’s so fun to mess with you. I’ve always loved the way your eyes get all squinty and your nostrils flare when you’re mad at me.”

She covered her nose with one hand.

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