Page 81 of Gorgeous

Theo.

Cade has a weakness, too.

Me.

Something like a rush of power zips through my veins, empowering me to take Cade’s hand, his fingers instinctively lacing through mine.

This new information is making my stomach do somersaults, and I don’t hate it.

“You want to go?” Cade interrupts my girl-power thoughts with his sexy voice, the champagne bringing out the southerner in him.

I turn, giving him a thorough once-over, an idea already forming. “Absolutely.”

Cade Jameson isn’t going to know what hit him.

B!

Major Jameson pulled me to the side today and said he thought I had a future in the Corps. Like I could make something of myself here! Can you believe it? Your big brother is a badass! LOL.

#istilldonthaveasixpackthough #butIstillrunfasterthanyou

Love,

Your awesome fucking brother

Cade pushes through the bedroom door, already loosening the bowtie from around his neck. “That was painful. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Theo wasn’t the most obnoxious person in the room tonight.”

He huffs out a breath with a half-smile, like he’s amused by his own admission. On the way back he was unnaturally quiet. It’s plausible that he was thinking of excuses to take me home. But that would be unlike him. A month ago, he would have asked me if he could give me a ride home. Not now, though. Not after getting so jealous of Theo only an hour ago.

I’m being paranoid.

Cade’s gone silent on me again, and I look up and see he’s staring me down, a brow arched in what may be aggravation. Was it not a rhetorical question? Did he want me to agree that the fundraiser this evening was like a trip to the gynecologist, irritating and dreadful?

“It was rather stuffy.” I offer with a soft chuckle.

Nose scrunched, Cade shakes off whatever he was about to say and undoes the buttons that secure the only barrier between me and his beautifully marred chest. A chest that has seen battle. A chest that displays his courage and honor. A chest that has made sacrifices. A chest that feels like home.

Memories of the first time I saw him on the Skype call flood my brain as I step into him, crowding his personal space.

His hands stop.

Whispering, I place my fingers over his, taking over unbuttoning his shirt. “I got it.”

He swallows thickly, nodding only once.

Methodically, I push each button through itshole, inch by inch, revealing his scars. Purple, pink, red, and tan. They display a rainbow of colors like a Picasso hung in the most prestigious museum.

Cade’s breaths have become shallow, and I keep going for fear he may stop me and suggest something else we could do.

Once completely bared,I meet his murky-mint eyes, watching him as he watches me lower myself, placing a soft kiss to one of the more ragged scars.

He shivers. “What are you doing, Breck?”

I’m not going to answer his ridiculous question, because clearly I want him naked. I hum, pushing him back toward the bed. Whatever turmoil is going on in his head his body doesn’t seem to agree because it puts up no resistance. In fact, his body almost seems eager.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, I smile, sweet and innocent. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

Another swallow.

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