Full Package

Tonight, we’re adults in bed.

“I was thinking about your patient tonight.” Her tone is introspective. “You said Blake was thirty-four. And the heart attack was out of the blue. I’m only twenty-eight.”

“You’re not going to have a heart attack, Josie.”

“Right. I know. I mean, I think I won’t. I don’t eat too many treats,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes. Her hand drifts to her belly, and she pats it. “I mean, maybe a few more than I should.”

“Stop it. You’re beautiful,” I say before I can think better of it.

She arches a brow. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I could lose five pounds. Maybe ten.”

I roll my eyes. “If you lost five pounds, you wouldn’t be you. You’re a baker. No one wants a skinny baker. And trust me, wherever these five or ten pounds are that you want to lose, I don’t want to see them gone.”

She smiles. “Thank you. The funny thing is, I think I’d regret not tasting and sampling the things I make more than I’d enjoy being five pounds lighter. So, honestly, I’m happy with my five or ten extra, I suppose. I feel like at the end of my life, whether it’s at age thirty-four or ninety or twenty-nine, I won’t be saying, ‘I wish I ate less cake.’ Or ‘I wish I had fewer seven-layer bars.’ And I don’t think I’ll be saying, ‘I should have spent more time on Facebook or Twitter or Snapchat,’ either.”

I laugh. Josie’s hardly online. She’s social, but she’s social in real life. “What would you regret?”

She shifts closer and props her head in her hand, mirroring me. The space between us is endless, and at the same time, it barely exists. Maybe six or seven inches separate us. Few enough for me to loop my fingers in her hair, tug her close, and kiss the hell out of her. But more than enough for me to not cross that line, too.

Lines. Friendship. Having her in my life. Living with her. Those reasons ought to be enough to stay on this side of the kiss/don’t kiss divide.

“I’m not sure I’d regret anything,” she says. “I’m trying to live a life without regrets. I’m glad I took over the bakery. I’m glad I took out the loan. I’m glad I pursued my dreams. I’m even glad I’m doing the whole online-dating thing,” she says, and my heart sinks like a stone.

“Yeah?”

“I’d like to find the one. I’d like to fall in love. I’d like to have a family and all that jazz.”

“You would?”

She nods. “I would. I try to do the things that matter to me so I won’t have regrets. Do you have any regrets?”

I flop to my back, reflecting on her question. “I’ve done the things I want to do so far. The things that are important to me. So, honestly, aside from you using my hand as Lyle Lyle, I can’t really think of a thing I regret not doing,” I say, deadpan all the way.

She’s silent, and I look over at her.

A smile spreads slowly across her pretty face. Her green eyes twinkle with mischief, and her soft, sweet lips lift into a sexy grin.

Then she flips to her side, her back to me, and slides under the sheets. She scoots closer. I take that as my cue to spoon her.

I’ve drunk too much champagne. I’ve eaten too much dessert. I’m in bed with Josie Hammer, her sweet, sexy body pressed to mine, and she reaches for my hand.

I slide it over her shirt and between her breasts, and I groan.

I’ve finally become a stuffed crocodile, and it’s better than all my fantasies.

She sighs, the kind of sleepy nighttime sigh of contentment that comes from a woman who’s living a life without regret. I’d like to think I am, too. But when she falls asleep a minute later in my arms, I do regret something.

I regret that I’m completely and utterly unable to resist my best friend.

I press a soft kiss to the back of her neck, and I’m certain I can’t stay on this side of the divide anymore.





18





I must have fallen asleep, too.

But when I wake up, it feels as if I’m still dreaming. My arms are wrapped around her, and my hand is wedged between the two most beautiful breasts I’ve ever felt.

But it’s not my hand that is doing the most interesting thing.

Not at all.

Her hand is on my hip.

She’s stroking me. She’s touching me. She’s running her fingers from my hip, down the outside of my leg.

This is the best dream I’ve ever had.

Her breath catches, and then the dream ratchets up. It goes to dream level twenty or fifty or ten million when she presses her ass against my dick. She pushes back lightly, and then a soft moan falls from her lips.

Ohhhh.

It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

And I surrender to it.

“Josie,” I whisper, my voice raspy.

“Mmm,” she murmurs.

“Turn around, baby.”