Page 62 of Best Man Speaking

“And what was that for?” I ask, faking disgruntled, even though I wobble as he steps back.

Now he smiles, exuding a confidence I do not feel. “I wanted to know if your lies taste as sweet as they sound.”

“What’s your verdict?” I ask, not bothering to try and tell him he’s wrong and that I’m a pillar of truth and honesty.

He leans forward to whisper, “They taste much sweeter.”

When he pulls back, I sweep my tongue out over my lower lip as if to capture what he’d found for himself.

The smile he gives me is purely devilish. “I’ll meet you in the truck, Hallie.”

I wait until the door closes behind him, and then I throw on the water, sticking my wrists beneath the freezing cold stream. I catch my own eyes in the mirror, promising I’ll never ever tell anyone that I had to cool myself down from a simple, closed-mouthed kiss.

Chapter Eighteen

Marcus

I’m on my laptop working at the kitchen counter when Hallie walks into the room wearing one of my bath towels, her clothes left abandoned on my living room floor.

Our car ride home from Broughton House had led to me having her spread out as a snack on my dining table, but while we might’ve entered the bathroom together, she’d deftly kicked me out, citing her need to get clean, apparently impossible to do within my filthy presence.

Personally, I didn’t take it as anything other than a compliment.

In the time provided, I’d been able to get dry and dressed, had put the leftovers from last night in the oven, and had started to reply to work emails.

Hallie’s skin is still a dark rose from the heat of the water, making me hesitate for just a moment in my intention to offer her something to wear. I’m completely enthralled by the flex of her calves as she pads barefoot over to the oven, bending andopening the glass door to see what’s inside. White noise enters my headspace as her towel creeps up the back of her thighs.

I shake my head to try and clear it. Skin I’d so recently touched and devoured shouldn’t hold such power.

The tranquility of the moment doesn’t last long. She turns on me, annoyance written all over her features.

“Marcus, what the hell? We said we’d share.” She’s all types of aghast after promising Erica we’d be on our best behavior with one another last night.

I duck my head down to my screen. “Yousaid we’d share,” I can’t help but point out, even with my focus back on the work before me.

“You didn’t disagree,” Hallie reminds me as she comes to stand on the opposite side of my kitchen counter.

I’ve yet to look up, but I can see in my peripheral vision the press of the cotton towel against my countertop. Her fingertips don’t touch the marble, giving me hope that her arms are crossed in frustration, her breasts unintentionally made even more delectable by the way the posture pushes them in and up.

“I also didn’tagree, but feel free to stay and eat,” I offer, as I’d intended all along; there’s easily enough for two.

“I don’t have any clothes to put on,” she replies, as if being in a towel in front of me is somehow inappropriate compared to how we spent the last hour.

I roll my eyes, still refusing to look up from my screen again. Nothing with Hallie comes easy. Other than her. I smile. “I just ate you with no clothes on.”

I don’t need to look at her to know she’s blushing. “That’s different.”

“If you would’ve given me a single second before jumping down my throat…” I reach over, pulling the chair out beside me so she can see the gray sweatpants and navy T-shirt folded neatly on the seat. “Help yourself.”

When she doesn’t move toward me, I finally glance up, only to find Hal staring down at my folded clothes like they might bite. Her teeth press down onto her lush bottom lip.

“Something wrong?” I ask, curious about her hesitance. Or, more accurately, curious about the answer she might give me, as I can more or less assume the reason.

We might’ve put a ban on talking about our past, on finally clearing things up, but I haven’t forgotten the last time she’d worn my clothes, and I highly doubt she has either.

Wherever her mind’s at, she snaps out of it quickly. “Worried about catching cooties,” she replies easily but still doesn’t move to pick them up.

I push my chair back, standing and heading toward the food. Whatever internal battle Hallie’s waging, it turns out I’m not up for witnessing it play out on her face. “You can eat with pants, or you can eat without them. It doesn’t bother me.”

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