I could probably write the Idiots Guide to Savannah Bailey’s Expressions. It comes from years of watching her. Years of looking at her first to decipher her reaction. I can pinpoint a hidden scowl by the arch of her eyebrows. Or when she’s trying to disguise being affected by something from the way her jaw flexes.

Right now, I can tell she didn’t completely fall for Brent, but she’s not going to tell me because that would mean I was right. In Savannah’s world, only she’s allowed to be right.

“Yes, and if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready to help Brooklyn with some reception stuff.” She takes her coffee and her purse and heads toward the stairs.

“Are you gonna see him again?” I sit at the breakfast bar and straighten the morning paper in front of me.

Her feet stop walking, and she hovers near the stairs. “Maybe.”

“Good to know you’re still lying to yourself.”

She whips around, and a splash of her coffee spills on my hardwood. “Shit.”

She returns to the breakfast island and puts her coffee and purse on the granite counter. When her purse flops to the side, there’s the evidence I need—her bra is barely able to stay contained in the small purse.

I close my eyes to rein in my anger—anger I may or may not have any right to—but it’s building too fast for me to stop it. If I stick around here, we’re going to end up in a screaming match that will wake Denver, and whatever this is between us will blow up in our faces. And then Dori will interfere—more than she already tries to.

I round the breakfast island. “I can’t believe you’d fuck him.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

She freezes right before pulling a paper towel off the rack. “What?”

“I can’t believe you’d fuck that egotistical jackass and strong-arm me. What gives? Is it the suit and the money?”

She tears off a paper towel. Forcefully. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Denver isn’t there.

“Who said I fucked him?”

The word fuck rolling off her tongue does something to my dick, but I beg it to stay out of this fight. I tilt my head and huff. “I’m not an idiot. You walk in here braless the next morning. I’d bet my house your panties are in there too.”

She bumps her shoulder into me to get to the spill and gets down on all fours to clean it. It’s like a form of torture, watching that and knowing I can’t have her. “You should go to your room and stop talking. Now.”

“I’m sure you’d like that. To not be responsible for what you’re doing.”

She stands, the dirty paper towel hanging from her hand. “And what am I doing, Liam?”

“You’re a fucking tease. You come home with me, make out with me for hours. Let me commit your body to memory, and then the next morning, you pretend it only happened because you were drunk. Now you’re dating some douche and letting a guy like Brent stick his dick in you.”

She looks over her shoulder because my voice is rising the longer I talk.

Stepping up close, to my surprise, she doesn’t poke me in the chest. She waits to make sure I’m listening. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that. What happened between us was a mistake. And if I did sleep with Brent, I was acting like every woman you bring home, and you have the nerve to judge me? Just because you weren’t the one I chose to fuck? Stop acting like I broke your heart because I wouldn’t sleep with you.”

My heart is pounding like a tribal drum and I can feel heat rising up my neck. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I get that I’m a conquest. The uptight older sister who you think your dick will unravel. And then once you’ve had me, you can move on to greener pastures and put a checkmark next to my name.”

“You’re delusional.” I grab her hips and push her against the counter, driving my half-hard dick into her pelvis as I lean in close. “This doesn’t affect you at all?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Just because I’m attracted to you doesn’t mean anything. You’re hot. I never said you weren’t.”

“So let’s work this out. Come upstairs with me.”

She huffs and looks across the room before bringing her vision back to me. “No.”

“What are you afraid of?” I hover over her, my hands sliding down her backside.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Denver appears at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his eyes from just waking up.

I step back.