Page 57 of One Touch

“Nah, I’m not that knowle—”

“Which tropes fit best with a military hero?”

“Childhood sweethearts, second chance romance, and friends to lovers. With a military hero, it’s super-important to play up just how loyal and skilled he is, as well as the inherent goodness in his—” My mouth hung open. “Wow, I do know my shit!”

“We’re going to harness that knowledge to create something of exceptional power.”

“Like what?”

She paused for effect. “A spreadsheet. Kind of. A way to guarantee that things between you and Ethan never progress further than something physical.” Elara lifted a finger to her lips. “I realize that right now, I’m kind of helping you plan how to seduce my brother, in a way.”

“Brother-in-law!” I stressed. “And you’re not even married yet.”

“We could have a double wedding, Lils.”

“No weddings! You know Ethan hates weddings, right?”

“Fine, fine, we’ll focus on the sexy, sexy, sex.” She took a pen and wafted it around like a wand. “Cinderella, you will go to the ball!” She tapped it on my head.

“Charming.”

“Remember how Cinderella had some rules?”

“Just one, right? Be home by midnight? But that’s not really an option for me.”

“Ah yes, but these rules will be different. Because unlike you, Cinderella was only planning on dancing. Not getting nailed by a super-hot fireman.”

Chapter 12

Ethan

Imight have beenbroken, but I had nothing on this damn Ferrari.

I had always dreamed of restoring a Spyder. I’d bought this one in seriously crappy condition. Rust. Moldy upholstery. An engine that barely started and conked out any time I tried to get her up and out of third. There was joy in making her over. A painstaking restoration. Seeing her come back to life.

I’d deep-cleaned the engine and replaced most of the parts. I’d stripped out the old leather and put in an order for new. I’d smoothed out the bodywork, and given it a cherry-red finish. The fucking pinstriping was supposed to be the finishing touch. The cherry on the already cherry-red cake. And you know what? I’d almost decided not to do it. Didn’t want to gild the lily.

Little did I know that tiny decision would end up costing me so much time.

I was furious. Devastated. Absolutely raging.

Or at least, that’s how I wanted to feel.

Not least because I had been about to sell the damn thing and buy Ava the vacation of her dreams.

But the truth was, if Lily hadn’t come crashing into the garage, she wouldn’t have become Ava’s nanny, and we wouldn’t have kissed. I wouldn’t have had this sensitive, sexy woman in my life. I would have just continued buying macchiatos from the world’s loveliest bookseller with a hungry look in my eyes.

Now, she lived with me. I had seen her naked. I had touched her silky-smooth skin and assured her of my sexual prowess.

It made me mad that I couldn’t be mad. Instead, I was left feeling like a lovestruck teenager, raging about the hormones that had free rein over my emotions.

Gilding the lily.

I really wanted to gild Lily. So badly. To smooth out her fucking bodywork. To paint long stripes along her perfect curves.

Okay, Ethan, you have officially gone off the deep end.

Grease smudged my cheek as I wiped sweat from my brow, trying to put thoughts of Lily out of my head as I lost myself in work. I was carefully hammering out small dents on the hood in the—probably deluded—hope that I wouldn’t have to stump up yet more cash for quite so many replacement parts. It wasn’t even the money that was the issue. I’d gotten a payout from my insurance company. It covered well over half of the expenses the crash had cost me. Problem was the rarity of the pieces I needed, the irritating bartering over price, and the long waits for delivery.

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