Page 56 of Wildest Dreams

How can I be soluckythat I have actually beenfoundby a guy who is so perfect?

It’s almost too perfect to be true.

I smile up at him and he chuckles quietly as he kisses me.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

Chapter 14

Aisling

Present day

For some reason, Tanner insisted on driving us tonight.

We’re all heading to the dive bar and Tanner’s our DD.

“You aren’t drinking?” Austin asks him in that deep rumbling voice of his, as he hunches down his broad shoulders and slides into the shotgun seat of Tanner’s G-wagon.

Tanner’s eyes slide down to meet mine, before he gives my outfit a prolonged once-over.

He ignores Austin’s question seeing as the answer is crystal clear and instead takes a few determined steps in my direction. The heated look in his eyes makes me think that he’s been doing a lot of contemplating about our little panty adventure this morning.

When he’s a good half millimetre away from me, he gives me a rough jerk of his chin – his silent self-assured caveman version of “hello”.

“Aisling.”

“Tanner.”

His gaze flicks momentarily down to my jeans, a muscle rolling in his jaw, but he doesn’t ask the question that’s burning in his irises.

Which ones are you wearing under there?

He lifts his right arm so that he can shove his fingers through his hair and a wave of his warmth washes over me.

I try not to wobble on my stilettos.

He clears his throat, eyes lingering on my chest. “You look… good.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Wow, you should write poetry.”

He grunts, still staring.

“You get what I shoved through your letterbox?” he asks gruffly.

How does he manage to make everything sound like the filthiest euphemism that I’ve ever heard?

I look innocently down at my nails. I probably shouldn’t tell him that I’ve already folded the soft grey shirt that he quietly slid through the front door of the lake house, and that it’s patiently waiting on my sleeping bag for me to snuggle into tonight.

When he told me that he’d give me more of his clothes to wear as pyjamas, he meant it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say vaguely, eyes sliding up to his when I feel his molten gaze burning into my cheeks.

His sun-kissed cheekbone twitches. Then he grimaces and nods.

After a couple beats of just watching me I let out a nervous laugh and ask, “Why are you still standing here?”

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