Page 35 of Mark my Words

“But I think you do,” I laughed as I stepped back, gently prying her fingers from me and shoving my own in the pockets of my pants so I didn’t touch her again the way I wanted. “I think you like me dirty, and I love giving you what you want.”

She was quiet again in the Uber, scooting across the back seat and keeping her fingers twisted together in her lap. I kept stealing glances at her profile, the lovely curve of her mouth, her exposed neck, and how her skirt had ridden up to show off a generous amount of those shapely thighs. Kristine didn’t even know how sexy she was, which was a good thing, given her arrogance about her caliber of professional talent. I knew tonight I needed to turn off my attraction and keep things distant and platonic. Still, when I noticed her nibbling on her lower lip, I desperately wanted to pull her into my lap and kiss away every speck of lipstick she had painted across those same full lips.

“You need to get a hold of yourself,” she hissed as the car pulled up to the valet stand in front of her brother’s hotel. “Quit staring at my mouth, and for the love of God, don’t touch me.”

I chuckled, mainly at how she was so indignant and partially because she had my number. I did want to kiss her. I wanted to do more than brush her shoulder with my fingers and clasp her hand as we sat side by side. I fantasized about pinning her to the door of the restaurant bathroom, pushing aside whatever scrap of lace I knew she had on under that dress, and fucking her with my fingers until she screamed my name into my shoulder. Then she’d be begging me to fuck her...

But I needed to get those thoughts out of my head and put on the best damn show I’d ever put on in my life because I had a feeling it was important to her that her brother did not know that I’d seen her naked. That’d I’d been closer to her than coworkers should be. As close to her as a man could be to a woman.

It was just going to be so damn hard, pun fully intended.

“You look lovely,” Greg complimented Kristine as he walked toward us while we approached the heavy wooden doors to the steakhouse inside his hotel. She stiffened up as he leaned in and kissed her cheek before stepping back and nodding at me over her shoulder. “Good of you to join us, Sam. I’m looking forward to getting to know Krissy’s friends here. You are friends, right?”

Nodding awkwardly, I kept my hands in my pockets, afraid that I’d do something stupid like graze my hand against the small of her back as he led us toward the host station. Of course, the young hostess fawned all over him. “Mr. Willard, your table is ready. Right this way. Would your wife like a cocktail?” she asked, glancing down at Kristine’s fingers before conspicuously looking back at Gregory’s hands.

“She’s my baby sister,” he chuckled as he leaned toward the pretty blonde’s ear. “No Mrs. Willard, yet.”

“Barf,” Kristine muttered under her breath, but I heard her, biting my bottom lip to hold in a laugh at the blatant disgust in her tone.

“What was that?” Gregory asked as he stared toward the retreating hostess as he pulled out his sister’s chair at the table.

“Nothing, Greggy. Just said I’m in the mood for beef.”

“Still eating like a lumberjack, I see.”

Kristine’s hand balled into a fist in her lap as her smug brother took the seat to her left, leaving the one to her right open for me. I could tell she was trying to hold in a retort and failing as I took my seat, keeping a respectable distance between us.

“Just because your anorexic girlfriends eat like two carrot sticks a day doesn’t mean I have to keep myself from enjoying the costly cut of meat that my brother is going to buy me for ambushing me and making me go to dinner with him.”

“Well, if you returned our mother’s phone calls, you’d know I was going to be in town, and then maybe you could’ve made an effort to welcome me like a normal sibling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you too busy to tell me yourself, or is it just that hard to detach yourself from our mother’s teat?”

Wow. I watched the two of them hiss back and forth across the table, suddenly thankful for the playful banter I shared with my sisters. The Willard clan played for keeps in the game of sibling resentment.

“So, Sam.” Gregory cleared his throat, making eye contact with me from across the table. Great. Now he was pulling me into this little battle of barbs.

“Leave him alone.” Kristine glared at him before he could say anything else.

“Afraid he’s going to tell me your dirty little secrets?” Greg taunted before he motioned toward a server walking by the table. “Bring us a bottle of Chivas Regal, the 25. I don’t want any of that watered-down crap you serve the people at the bar. Three glasses.”

She nodded and turned toward the bar, hurrying around the tables and flagging down a bartender.

“You didn’t even say please, or thank you, you dick,” Kristine sighed as she reached for her water glass.

“She works here, and I’m tired of waiting for a drink.”

“We just sat down.”

“Exactly, we’re seated. Do servers in Boston not expect their patrons to need drinks?”

“God, you’re almost worse than him.”

I expected another retort, but Greg just laughed, glancing over his shoulder and motioning for the returning server to give Kristine the first glass.

“Is there anything else you’d like, sir? I can send over your server if you’re ready to order.”

“No, this is great. We can wait a few more minutes to order. I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

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