Page 29 of The Substitute

“I’m your brother.”

“So, let me get this straight. It was fine for you to date and marry Stella, who just happens to be significantly younger than you, but it’s not okay for me to be with Derek?”

“That’s different.”

I laugh at that, and Gray shuffles his feet, a scowl on his handsome face. “We both know it’s not different.”

“I’m not a complete prick, Maya.”

“Oh, sometimes you are. Listen to me. I’m almost done with this job, and Derek hasn’t done or said anything to me that you need to worry about. I want to get to know him better, and that’s just what I’m going to do. If it fizzles out, then it does. No harm, no foul. But, Gray? I’m thirty. I’m not a teenager. Do you think I spent six months in Europe and never had sex even once?”

His scowl grows. “I don’t want to fucking know that.”

“Then stop acting like an overprotective brother.”

He sighs, pulls me to him, hugs me close, and kisses my head. “I can’t. I am an overprotective brother.”

That makes me smile, and I pull away from him. “You know, if it doesn’t fizzle, you have to apologize to Derek.”

“Fuck that.”

* * * *

I’ve never been so nervous about a date in my life.

I have one dress left from my shopping spree that Derek hasn’t seen yet. It’s black with a shape-hugging bodice and a flowy skirt. With my black Louboutins, I don’t think I can go wrong.

I twisted my hair up off my neck and decided to wear the diamond solitaire necklace my parents got me for my thirtieth birthday.

My lips are red, my eyes smoky, and I think I’m ready.

As ready as I’ll ever be.

The doorbell rings just as I finish putting a few essentials into a clutch. When I open the door, my breath hitches.

“Wow,” I breathe, taking him in. He’s in slacks, a green shirt, and a sport coat that fits him perfectly, showing off broad shoulders and muscular arms. “You—”

Suddenly, his hands are on my face, and his mouth is on mine, kissing me greedily, as if he’s starving for me.

I hear the clutch hit the floor as I cling to him, wanting so much more than this kiss.

But he stops, rests his forehead against mine, and takes a long, deep breath.

“We have reservations,” he whispers, his voice rough. “And then I’m taking you to my house for the weekend.”

“You are?”

He lifts an eyebrow, and I grin.

“Should I pack a bag?”

“Yes. Yes, you should.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I saunter away from him, knowing my ass looks great in this dress and heels, and hear him growl, “For fuck’s sake.”

That is damn satisfying.

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