“That’s my girl,” he says, his words rumbling against the side of my head. The bicep on his right arm continues to flex as he slows but doesn’t stop, bringing me down slowly from the crescendo.
“Paisley?” he says.
“Mm-hmm?” My thighs are a quivering mess, and so is my voice.
“The next time you come, I want the lights on so I can watch your gorgeous eyes roll back in your head.” His fingers, still inside me, curl and flex, the sensitivity making me buck.
“Yes,” I agree, as his fingers disappear from me.
I adjust my dress, my hair, swiping under my eyes. I haven’t the faintest clue what I look like right now.
The kitchen is quiet again. Perfect. Everyone has gone somewhere else, and we can step from this pantry undiscovered.
Klein turns the handle, an arc of light appearing as he slowly pushes it open an inch. “After you, Ace. Or maybe I should start calling you a siren.”
I look at him in the modest light illuminating his features. His cheeks are flushed. He looks happy. Pleased.
“Siren?”
“You call to me like a siren luring in a sailor.”
“I have no intention of drowning you.”
“And yet, you seem to be.”
“Drowning you?”
“Don’t you know, Paisley?” Klein drops a swift kiss to the corner of my mouth, lingering there to say, “You are a dangerous woman.”
“I doubt that.”
“You pose a threat to every part of me.”
My heartbeats falter. Does he mean these things he says?
“After you.” He inclines his head.
Pushing open the door, I step into the kitchen, blinking against the harsh overhead light. Klein steps out behind me, his chest brushing my back.
My eyes adjust, then widen.
“Hey,” I squeak.
Shane stands opposite us, casually leaning back against the counter with one ankle crossed over the other. He’speeling an orange, which strikes me as odd when there’s an island laden with platters of prepared food.
“Guess I found one of the missing couples.” The smirk on his face quickly dies. “At least someone around here is getting laid.”
The corners of my lips turn down. “It’s only for a week leading up to the wedding night.” My sister isn’t here to defend her decision, so I’ll do it for her.
“Right,” Shane says dryly. “Did you two have fun in there?” His lip twitches like he’s fighting a sneer. “Sure sounded like it.”
He’s baiting me. Baiting Klein. Stirring for a fight, or at least a reaction. Klein doesn’t know Shane very well, but he’s already seemed to figure this out. He ignores Shane, grabbing a handful of chocolate covered blueberries. He takes my hand and flips it over, forming a cup and dropping the sweet treats into my palm.
“I know how she can be,” Shane says, not letting up.
Klein meets my eyes, and I shake my head slowly, a warning. I can’t even muster up anger about his crassness, because he looks so damn pathetic.
Shane keeps going, peeling his orange slowly, eyes cast down on his task. “When Paisley decides she’s ready, you’d better hop to it, right?” He chuckles quietly, as if he knows, heremembers, he got there first and left his ghost to save his spot.
