And for some reason, my breath catches when his eyes meet mine again.
“You don’t need a dress to look beautiful. You’re beautiful in just your flannel shorts and T-shirt, but you also look great in this.”
I swallow hard, my nerves feeling frayed because, what’s going on? It’s like a switch has been turned on in him . . . or turned off, and he’s more . . . affectionate. His compliments seem more intimate. And the way he looks at me has some hunger to it.
Before I can process anything, he slips his hand back into mine and tugs me toward the front door.
“Have you ever seen a breakfast taco bar?” he asks as if he didn’t just stare into my soul with his commanding eyes.
“Uh . . . no.”
“It’s fucking mouthwatering. Huxley gets it catered. There are mimosas, Bloody Marys—mediocre ones, of course—a giant fruit display, plus a variety of croissants that I’m pretty sure will rock your world. They’ve rocked mine a few times.” He pats his stomach.
“Yes, that six-pack of yours really tells me how the croissants have rocked you,” I say.
A charming smirk passes over his lips right before he drops my hand and rings the doorbell. “Notice my six-pack, huh?”
“The astronauts on the I.S.S. noticed your six-pack.”
He presses his hand to his chest. “Don’t flatter me. My ego won’t be able to fit through the door.”
I nudge him with my shoulder just as the door opens, Huxley appearing on the other side.
There’s something to be said about the genetics the Cane brothers possess because every one of them is extraordinarily handsome. All with dark hair, square jaws, sculpted bodies, and personalities that would make any leading lady fall for them.
Huxley has that tall, dark, and brooding thing going on, but can switch right out of it when he needs to, like right now, as he smiles at me.
“Lia, it’s great to see you. Been a while since my brother brought you around. Congrats on the engagement.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And congrats on your wedding as well. Breaker showed me pictures.”
“He should have brought you,” Huxley says, eyeing his brother.
“Charise was a fine date,” Breaker says while shifting to the side.
“Lia would have been better.” Huxley steps to the side as well and gestures with his hand to walk in. “Everything is on the back patio. Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” I say as I step into his beautiful house, where the entryway has a large picture of him and Lottie on their wedding day. The sun is setting in the background. He’s holding her possessively by the jaw as he kisses her. It’s raw, beautiful . . . erotic, a picture Brian and I would never take.
A position Brian would never hold me in.
A kiss I don’t think we’d ever share.
He doesn’t have that in him, that craving, grasping for air-type nature. He doesn’t see me as his and only his. He doesn’t look at me and think . . . mine.
That’s never bothered me, but for some reason, looking at this picture of Lottie and Huxley, and the words Brian said to me last night, it’s . . . it’s bothering me now.
“You okay?” Breaker asks, coming up next to me.
“Yes,” I answer. “Beautiful photo of them.”
“It was a beautiful wedding,” he replies and then smooths his hand to my lower back, right above the curve of my ass. “Ready to get some tacos?” he whispers in my ear right before he guides me toward the back of the house, his palm nearly searing my skin through the fabric of my dress.
“Yes,” I answer as my voice gets caught in my throat.
He must not notice because he leads me out back where JP and Kelsey are filling their plates while Lottie fills up a champagne flute.
“Hey,” Breaker says with a wave of his hands, causing all three sets of eyes to land on us. “Brought Lia with me because, frankly, she invited herself.”
I pinch his side, causing him to laugh. I whisper, “Because of that, game on.” I address everyone and say, “Breaker said the Bloody Marys are mediocre.”
“Oh, you bitch,” he whispers, causing me to laugh.
“What?” JP asks. “My Bloody Marys are not mediocre.”
“You have no idea what you just did,” Breaker mutters.
“I have an inkling,” I answer as JP sets his plate down, grabs Breaker, and takes him over to the drinks, where he runs through every step of making the perfect Bloody Mary.
“Hey, Lia.” Kelsey waves and grabs a plate. “Help yourself.”