The urge to touch her tingled the tips of my fingers, and the weak son of a bitch that I was, I gave in.
I trailed my thumb along the curve of her lower lip from one corner of her mouth to the other. My gaze stayed fixed on her soft, plump pout, even as a tiny gap, barely big enough for a breath, appeared between her lips.
“It was...real. And your eyes...It reminded me how pretty you are when you’re not mad at me.”
She smiled even though I still touched her. It was a much smaller smile, but it had the exact same effect. Even as she dipped her head and tried to hide it.
I didn’t let her. I tilted her head right back up and cast my gaze over her face. I wanted to commit every inch of that expression of hers to memory, because let’s face it—I probably wasn’t going to damn well see it again, was I?
Lani didn’t pull back from me as I studied her. She looked right up at me, her make-up free eyelashes long and dark. A smudge of gray make-up was lingering beneath the outside corner of her left eye, and there was a smudge of something on her right eyelid, but the freshness of her skin—even if she was visibly tired—was strangely mesmerizing.
I wanted to look more.
I wanted to search her bare face until I knew every single little imperfection that was there, because as I looked at her, I knew they all added up to someone so gut-wrenchingly beautiful that I was completely and utterly screwed.
“Jesus,” I breathed. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”
Her throat bobbed. “That’s not a good idea,” she whispered, her voice thick.
“I know, but I want to anyway.”
She turned her face right away from me. Her hair fell free from its position behind her ear, forming a thick curtain between us.
I dipped my head and rubbed my hand over my mouth. Tiny goosebumps had erupted over her nearly-bare shoulders, and god, I wanted to rub them away. But I didn’t. I did the right thing and said, “Are you cold?”
“I’m fine.”
She was such a bad liar.
I shook out my balled-up sweater from my lap and draped it over her shoulders. She inhaled loudly, but the action was enough to make her turn back to face me.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome.” I half-smiled and looked out at the courtyard. “So what have you been looking at out here?”
“Nothing. Just...thinking. About what happened...could have happened...tonight.”
Anger fizzed in my gut again. “If you talk about what could have happened, I’m going to get irrationally angry again and then there’s no chance of hell of me sleeping tonight.”
“You haven’t been to sleep tonight?”
I stared at her. “Not a wink.”
“Sorry,” she said. Like it was her fault. Which it partially was. “I just can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you weren’t there. So, feel free to attend as many girl’s nights as you like.”
That made me laugh. “Or have your girl’s nights at home for a while.”
“That could work.” She wrung her fingers in her lap. “Brett?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I was kind of a bitch getting in the car.”
I winked at her. “Don’t sweat it, kitten. It evens us up a little.”
“Okay, as long as you call me kitten, you are way out in front on the asshole front.”
Wow. “You really hate that nickname, don’t you?”
She shifted and stared at me. “Only because you say it deliberately to piss me off.”
I couldn’t even deny that. “Shoot me. You’re hot when you’re angry.”
“You get me angry because you think I’m hot when I’m mad?”
“No. I don’t think you’re hot when you’re mad. I know you’re hot when you’re mad.”
She shook her head slowly, her brows drawn together in disbelief. “I was about to say I’ve never met another person like you in my life, but I’m actually very thankful for that.”
“Lani, there ain’t nobody else like me.” I grinned lopsidedly. “I’m something special.”
“It’s so nice to know that your lack of sleep hasn’t hindered your ability to put yourself up on a pedestal.”
“I stay up there. It’s easier than getting down to be with the little people.”
She pressed her hands to her mouth, but they weren’t tight enough to muffle her laughter. Her hysterical giggles escaped out from the tiny gaps between her fingers, and she had to drop her face right down until she was almost completely bent over at the waist before the giggles became tiny snorts.
Was what I’d said that funny? Or had her lack of sleep caught up with her?
It was that or she was laughing at me...
“I have no idea why I’m laughing,” she breathed. Every other word was broken by a terrible attempt at keeping her laughter inside. “But thank you. Whatever you did, I needed that.”
“Happy to be of service.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Slowly, I raised my eyebrows. “Was that an innuendo?”
She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it right back from her face, and rested her hand behind her neck. “No, but of course you took it like that.”
“If it sounds like an innuendo...”
“It’s proof that you have a dirty mind, Brett Walker. Nothing else.”
“I don’t need the innuendo to prove that.”
“As evidenced by your obsession with my boots.”
“Ah.” I smiled. “The fuck-me boots.”
Her jaw dropped, but she was kind of smiling too. “Fuck-me boots? You call my boots the fuck-me boots?”
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”
She nodded, desperately fighting a smile, which only made me smile wider. “Loud and clear, I’m afraid.”
“Look,” I said, lighting pulling on a bit of her hair. “If you wear boots that go up to your knees with heels, I can only assume you’re inviting me to fuck you, okay? That’s why they’re fuck-me boots.”
“Okay, now this makes sense.” She dropped her hand to her lap and blinked at me. “I wore those boots to our disastrous first meeting. Is that why you’re bugging me with the dirty stuff? My boots invited you to fuck me?”
“No. I’m ‘bugging’ you ‘with the dirty stuff’ because I want to fuck you. The boots are a bonus.”
“You...want to fuck me.”
I stared at her flatly. “Yes, Lani. I want to fuck you, and you have no idea how many ways I’ve imagined it.”
“Imagined it,” she echoed.
“You’re much less sassy when you’re tired. I’m not sure I like it. This conversation would be way more fun if you were tearing me a new one.”
That snapped her out of what I could only describe as a daze. “All right. Fine. I’m going to bed. Alone,” she added as she stood. “Thank you for your sweater. I’ll add that to my list of Brett’s Gentlemanly Things.”
I got up and took the sweater from her. “Look, I’ll even open the door for you.” I stepped around her and clasped the door handle. I slowly turned it and opened the door.
“Nice.” She’d apparently found her sass again, because the word was injected with a cocky sarcasm. “Goodnight, Brett.”
“Lani?”