Argh. Her stupid redhead skin made it impossible to hide a blush. “I was just wondering if…uh, did Dylan tell you what happened last night?”
“Hmmm, no? Why don’t you fill me in?”
Aidan walked to the counter and set a plate in front of her. The aroma of bacon and eggs floated into her nose, and when her stomach didn’t churn with sickness, she realized she’d miraculously managed to avoid a hangover.
She accepted the fork he handed her and speared into some eggs, avoiding his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just kissed him.”
He didn’t answer.
In fact, he stayed quiet for so long that Claire had no choice but to lift her head so she could study his expression. What she saw wasn’t betrayal or outrage, but genuine interest.
Aidan dragged one of the stools around the counter so they were sitting across from each other. “Yeah… he failed to mention that to me.”
She sighed. “Don’t be mad at him. I’m sure he was just too horrified and disgusted to want to talk about it.”
Popping a strip of bacon into his mouth, Aidan chewed for a few seconds, then said, “I didn’t get us any drinks. You want OJ, water or coffee?”
“Coffee.” Confused by his unfazed reaction, she watched him make his way over to the coffeemaker. “So, wait, you’re not mad? You don’t care that your boyfriend kissed someone else?”
“Boyfriend probably isn’t the right word,” Aidan admitted as he returned to the counter with two cups of coffee. “We’re…friends.”
“With benefits,” she pointed out. “I mean, you sleep together.”
“Yeah.” He shot her that dimpled grin of his. “We don’t share a room, though. That son of a bitch is a major blanket hog.”
His words instantly produced the image of the two men sleeping in the same bed, which succeeded in getting her all hot and achy. They must have tried that particular sleeping arrangement at least once in order for Aidan to know that Dylan stole the blanket, and her pulse sped up at the thought of their tanned, muscular bodies entwined together between the sheets.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Blushing.”
“You seem to have that effect on me, I guess.” Casting her gaze downward, she focused on eating her breakfast. Well, brunch, seeing as it was past noon.
“So how was it? Did you like kissing him?”
His mocking inquiry sent a shiver rolling through her. “It was okay,” she lied.
He responded with a deep laugh. “Bullshit. Dylan’s a damn good kisser. I bet you were turned on like nobody’s business.”
The memory of Dylan’s rock-hard erection grinding against her flashed through Claire’s head. Her core clenched. Nipples tingled, hardened and poked into her sports bra. Ah crap. Why had she chosen to wear a cotton sports bra? There was no way Aidan would be able to miss the outline of her nipples through her shirt.
From the way his gaze burned with desire, she knew he’d noticed, all right.
“I was drunk,” she said. “Everything feels good when you’re drunk. But believe me when I say it won’t happen again.”
“I’m still not sure why it happened in the first place.”
“I, uh, wanted to see if you guys are really attracted to women.”
There was a beat. Then he burst out laughing. “You needed empirical evidence, huh? Couldn’t just take our word for it.”
“Like I said, I don’t think much of Dylan’s word.”
They both fell silent as they finished their food, but it was a comfortable silence, free of tension and long enough for Claire’s embarrassment to slowly fade away. Aidan didn’t seem to care that she’d kissed Dylan, so maybe she didn’t need to make a big deal about it, either. So what if she’d made out with Chris’s brother? It had been a drunken, foolish error in judgment, never to be repeated.
Across from her, Aidan raised his cup to his lips and sipped his coffee, drawing her gaze to his mouth. God, he had such a sensual mouth, so very sexy, but there were no laugh lines around it. It was odd—she got the feeling he didn’t laugh very often, and yet the sound of his laughter had already echoed in the kitchen several times today.
“I need to ask you a question,” he said suddenly.
She wrinkled her forehead. “Um, shoot?”
“How do you feel about football?”
The random query sparked a laugh. “I love it,” she confessed. “Football is about all my dad and I have in common. When I was growing up, we would watch the games together every Sunday. My mom would bake cookies for us and stay out of our way.” She smiled at him. “Is that the right answer?”
His answering smile caused those cute dimples to pop out. “Definitely the right answer. But tell me this, who do you root for?”
“The Niners. Duh.”
His expression turned grave. “Uh-oh. Now that was the wrong answer. There’s only one team worth rooting for, and that’s the Bears.”
“No self-respecting San Franciscan would cheer for any team other than the Niners, and especially not an east-coast team. Jeez, Aidan.”
“You know, Dylan is a Niners fan too,” he told her, arching his eyebrows. “So maybe you two have more in common than you think.”
“I doubt it.”
“So stubborn, aren’t you, sweetheart? Must be a redhead trait.” Still grinning, he slid off the stool and picked up his empty plate. “Hurry up and finish your breakfast. We’ve got games to watch. And believe me when I say I’m going to thoroughly enjoy watching your team get their asses kicked.”
7
Dylan did an honest-to-God double take when he walked into the living room later that afternoon. Followed by a triple take, because the last thing he expected to find was Aidan and Claire on the couch watching football together.
Almost instantly, a strand of irritation wrapped around his spine. “Hey,” he said curtly. A glance at the flat screen only added to his bad mood—San Fran was losing 17-3.
Aidan nodded hello. “How were the waves?”
“Nonexistent.” He marched over and dropped a green Tupperware container on the glass coffee table, right in front of Claire. “Here, this is for you.”
She looked confused. “What is it?”
“Cupcakes. Our buddy’s wife, Shelby, owns a bakery in Coronado, and she insisted I bring something back for you.”
“For me?” Claire’s confusion deepened. “Why?”
“Call it a getting-dumped-at-the-altar present.” His tone was harsher than he’d intended, but he wasn’t in the mood to apologize.
He’d been looking forward to coming home and shooting the shit with Aidan, not spending time with his brother’s ex. But it was clear that Claire wasn’t going anywhere. She was curled up on the couch with her knees tucked up, and either he was imagining it, or her socked feet were pressed up against the side of Aidan’s thigh.
Nope, not imagining it.
Didn’t they look cozy.
“Oh, that was nice of her, I guess,” Claire said. “Tell her I said thank you.”
“Will do.”
“Grab a beer and join us,” Aidan told him. “Your team is playing like garbage, but on the bright side, mine isn’t.”
“Yeah, because I’m so invested in your big, bad Bears.”
Rolling his eyes, Dylan strode to the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a cold bottle of Bud in his hand, but he didn’t sit on the same couch as Aidan and Claire. Rather, he flopped down on the second sofa, twisted off the bottle cap and took a long slug of beer.
“How are the boys?” Aidan asked.
“Same old. Seth and Miranda are having people over for dinner on Christmas Eve. They want us to come.” Dylan glanced over. “Do you know if you’re heading back to Chicago for the holidays?”
“I haven’t talked to my dad yet, but I’m guessing going home won’t pan out. He’s not big on the holidays.”
Since Aidan rarely spoke about his father, Dylan was tempte
d to push for more details, but he knew the other man would just clam up if he did. And with Claire sitting there, the chances of Aidan opening up were even slimmer.
Or so he thought.
“Are you and your dad close?” Claire spoke up.
Aidan shrugged. “More or less.”
“What about your mom?”
Dylan tensed. There was an unspoken rule in the condo when it came to Aidan’s mother—don’t talk about her. Ever.
And so it came as a genuine surprise when Aidan actually answered the question.
“She died when I was six.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was she sick?”
“No. She…she got run down by a drunk driver when she was picking me up from school one day.” His voice thickened with pain. “She pushed me out of the car’s path but didn’t manage to get herself out of the way in time.”
Shock smashed into Dylan’s chest with the force of a jackhammer. Jesus Christ. This was the first he’d heard of it, and he had no idea how to respond.
Claire gasped. “Oh my God. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m so sorry, Aidan.”
There was a flash of movement in Dylan’s peripheral vision. When he looked over, he saw that Claire was gripping Aidan’s hand and stroking his knuckles.
Dylan locked gazes with his roommate, unsure of what to say to the confession. “You never told me that before,” was what came out.
Aidan shrugged again. “I’ve never told anyone.”
And yet he’d opened up to Claire.
The jealousy or resentment Dylan expected to feel did not come. Instead, he was overcome by a strange rush of gratitude. He didn’t know why Aidan felt comfortable enough around Claire to share such a private snippet of information, but the revelation offered the insight Dylan had been seeking for months. It allowed some of the puzzle pieces to slide into place and explained the shadows in Aidan’s eyes.
“Anyway, the holidays were my mom’s favorite time of year, so it makes sense that they bum my dad out.” Aidan’s voice took on that careless note that hinted he was about to change the subject. Which was exactly what he did. “By the way, Claire roots for the Niners too. So you two can console each other after your loss.”
Claire was wise enough to drop the subject, sparking Dylan’s grudging approval. “You don’t need to win games to be awesome,” she said in a haughty tone. “Our guys can go oh-and-sixteen and would still be better than your Bears.”
Dylan raised his beer in a mock toast. “Can’t argue with that.”
The leather cushions squeaked as Claire leaned forward to pick up the plastic container he’d left on the table. She snapped open the lid, peered inside and made a delighted sound. “Oooh, these look so good.”
It took about three seconds for Dylan to wish he’d never brought those cupcakes into the apartment. Because if he’d known the way Claire ate cupcakes? He would have thrown them right into the trash.
He hated that he was incapable of tearing his gaze from her mouth. But damn, she looked so fucking sexy nibbling on the chocolate cupcake.
“Wow, your friend Shelby really knows how to bake,” she said with a little moan. “These are to die for.”
When her tongue darted out to lick the pink icing, Dylan’s dick hardened and pressed against the zipper of his khaki shorts. Fortunately, his T-shirt was long enough that it covered his crotch. But there was no concealing the lust in his eyes, and when he shifted his gaze to Aidan, he saw that same rush of heat reflected back at him. That same flicker of interest that Dylan had seen so many times before, usually right before Aidan suggested to a chick that they all go back to his place.
The eye contact caused an unspoken conversation to pass between them.
“I want her naked, Dylan.”
“Not gonna happen, bro.”
“Jesus, but look how sexy she is.”
“Tough shit.”
“Um, what’s with the death-match stare down?”
Claire’s voice interrupted the silent debate, and Dylan declared himself the winner when he saw the resignation settle over Aidan’s face.
“Just a football rivalry look we like to flash each other every few minutes,” Dylan lied. He took a swig of beer and pretended that everything was A-okay.
Clearing his throat, Aidan turned to Claire. “So you and your dad watched football together, huh?”
“Every Sunday,” she confirmed. “It was his only vice.”
“Watching sports is a vice?”
“Dad disapproves of the way organized sports go hand-in-hand with gambling.”
“Is he very religious?” There was no judgment in Aidan’s question, just interest.
“Not at all, if you can believe that.” She sighed. “He’s a strange man, my dad. Very by the book, and all about right and wrong. His moral code is impossible to live up to, and he has the most archaic ideas about gender roles and how people ought to behave.”
Dylan had been trying to focus on the game, but he unwittingly found himself shifting his attention to their conversation.
“Sounds like an oppressive environment to grow up in,” Aidan remarked.
“It was, at times. I always had to maintain this good-girl image around him, but if I’m being honest, I think he knew I was a lot wilder than I let on.” She laughed. “When I was in high school I used to sneak out all the time to meet my boyfriend, and even though my dad never said a word about it, I’m pretty sure he knew. Oh, and I’m convinced he grew wise to the fact that I was stealing his vodka and watering down what was left in the bottle.”
Aidan laughed. Dylan couldn’t help but join in. He got the feeling stealing your folks’ booze and replacing it with a liquid of the same color was a rite of passage.
“Well, if he never called you out on any of that, he must not be as strict as you claim,” Aidan teased.
“Oh, trust me, he’s strict. I think he let it slide, though, because as wild as I could get, I was also the most focused kid on the planet. I knew I wanted to go to business school, and I worked my ass off to get the grades for it.” She shrugged. “This probably sounds ridiculously arrogant, but I’m one of those people who can drink herself stupid or stay out all night partying and still manage to ace every test.”
“So I’m guessing your father is really upset about what happened yesterday.”
“He is, but not because the wedding didn’t happen. He’s furious with Chris for breaking my heart, and he didn’t believe me when I told him that canceling the wedding might have been for the best.”
“What about your mother? Did you speak to her about it today?” Dylan instantly kicked himself for joining the conversation so readily, especially when he glimpsed Aidan’s pleased look.
“Yeah, I did. I told her how a part of me is relieved we didn’t go through with it, and then I recruited her to convince my dad of it. The last thing I want is my father tracking down Chris and giving him a talking to.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s Dad’s equivalent of a beating. He just talks to you in a very low voice for several hours.”
Aidan looked incredibly amused. “Sounds fun.”
“Oh, sure, tons of fun.”
An uneasy feeling filled Dylan’s stomach as he listened to the two of them chatting and laughing together. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to understand what his older brother had seen in this woman. She was smart, funny, beautiful, charming. On the surface, she was the complete package.
However, he’d endured too many of her snooty remarks and judgmental opinions to buy her Miss-Cute-and-Lovable act.
“What did he say to you?”
Dylan frowned when he realized Claire was talking to him. “What did who say to me?”
“Chris.” Her voice was soft now, lacking humor. “When he told you he didn’t want to marry me, what was his reason?”
“I already told you. He said you weren’t right for each other.”
“I’m sure he said more than that.”
Dyl
an hesitated, taking a moment to decide how much loyalty he owed to his brother at this point, if any. He and Chris had been close when they were kids, but over the years they’d drifted apart. These days, his brother felt like a complete stranger to him. Hell, Chris hadn’t even contacted him since he’d taken off to Aruba, except to send a quick text letting Dylan know he’d landed safely.
“He didn’t think you were a good match for him,” he finally revealed.
“And?” she pressed.
“And he mentioned something about you sharing personal details with some of the country-club women.”
A groove dug into her forehead. “Personal details? What kind of—” She gasped, and then her brown eyes darkened with disgust. “Oh my God. Did he dump me because I told a few rich girls about my vibrator?”
The outburst startled both him and Aidan, and damned if Dylan didn’t immediately envision Claire lying naked on a bed holding a sex toy between her legs.
The arousal hit him hard and fast, like an injection of heroin right into the vein. He gulped, trying to banish the dirty images wreaking havoc on his brain, but it was too late. They were branded in there forever.
“Is that it?” Claire demanded, practically glaring at him.
“He didn’t give me specifics,” Dylan said awkwardly.
“Wow. Your brother is really something else. I mean, wow. He asked me to get rid of it, by the way. The vibrator.”
Aidan choked out a laugh. “For real?”
“He said only single women needed them. And you know what? Those women at the club? They all have secret sex toys hidden away too. Apparently their conservative defense-lawyer husbands share Chris’s view on mechanical interference in the bedroom. But I guarantee you none of them owned up to it when they were gossiping about me to their husbands.” Her lips tightened in a thin line. “What else did he say?”
Dylan stifled a sigh. But hell, he was already in this deep. Might as well get it all out in the open. “He may have implied that you were unfaithful.”
Claire’s cheeks hollowed as if she was grinding her teeth together. “He actually said I cheated on him?”
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 36