Page 104 of The Sweetest Obsession

But it’s nice.

Feeling a little calmer, I shower off quickly, deliberately cranking it to cold before I wimp out and switch it to hot water.

When I’m done, I wrap myself in a towel and bolt for the guest room, skittering past Grant’s door.

If he ever sees me naked, I can’t be looking like a wet cat with my hair jabbed out everywhere.

If, huh?

Getting awful hopeful there, girl?

Shut up, brain.

Flushed, I shut myself in the guest room and lean back against the door, pressing a hand over my fluttering heart.

Holy hell, just whatamI hoping for tonight?

I shake myself from my thoughts and rummage through my things until I find a pair of low-rise jeans that aren’t too low for a family film. They’re comfortably snug but not skintight and a few little rips over the thighs could be innocent or double as a subtle tease.

My white silk camisole hangs loosely, paper-thin when it catches the light. I pair it with an open-knit cardigan that ties across my breasts, a sunny yellow shade. Like that’ll convince the thin thing to actually keep me warm tonight.

Everyone and their grandma keeps distracting me from getting that coat.

I pull on a pair of cute brown leather ankle boots and step out to meet them.

He’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Nell, who’s dressed up in pink, complete with a pair of strap-on butterfly wings. She has Mr. Pickle tucked under her arm, while Grant—

Oh my God.

I don’t think I’ve seen him clean up so nice since he went stag to his senior prom with Ethan.

I don’t know where he even finds clothes that fit him, but his button-down shirt fits like it was tailored just right, skintight with the buttons straining over his chest.

The pale blue brings out the swarthiness of his skin and the rich darkness of his hair.

His dark blue boot-cut jeans look sharp, well worn and casual, clinging to his hips and strong thighs. The black leather of his belt completes the look with the same coarse pattern as the leather of his boots.

He looks like a rough and tumble rancher ready to ride out with six-shooters at dawn, a gunslinger’s dream.

Especially when he hasEthan’s hatagain, clasped against his chest as he tips me a polite bow.

Oh, my.

...it wouldn’t be a night out with Grant without a little hint of heartbreak, would it?

“Ophelia,” he says.

It does weird things to me—him saying my name with that hat clasped in hand and that look on his face that says he’s only seeing me.

I try not to go to pieces as I pause on the stairs, drinking him in before I force myself to look away and refocus on Nell as I descend.

“So this is your prettiest outfit, huh?”

She smiles so wide I see the gaps in her teeth. “My absolute princess-est outfit ever.”

I give Grant a skeptically amused look.

He only shakes his head.

---