Page 32 of Recklessly Yours

I grimaced. “I never understood the warm milk thing. It’s disgusting.”

He shrugged. “I prefer whiskey.”

“That sounds good.”

“I make a decent hot toddy. Want one?”

“Sure.” I sat up and let the sheet drop to my waist.

Rather than standing and heading to the kitchen, he remained frozen, his gaze zeroing in on my chest. I glanced down and cursed. Once again, I was wearing a thin tank and no bra. I yanked the sheet back up and let out a huff.

He stood abruptly and turned toward the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Then he was gone, and I fell back against my pillow, struggling to find my breath again.

Chapter Thirteen

DYLAN

Why wasI making hot toddies at one in the morning? The last thing I needed was whiskey. But then again, maybe that was exactly what I needed. Along with a reminder that my job was to protect her. Not to ogle her the way I had upstairs when her nipples were poking through her thin tank top.

Jesus. I needed to get my head on straight. It was much easier to push aside my attraction to her before I knew it wastwo-sided. But the way her skin flushed when Savannah asked that last question confirmed it. Had the shit-stirring sibling been this relentless when Jackson and Ashley were fighting their attraction to each other?

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a moment later, she padded into the kitchen behind me.

“Here.” I turned and handed her one warm mug.

Our fingers brushed as she took it from me. The sensation did nothing to quiet the need coursing through me. At least she had a sweatshirt on.

“Thanks.” Head tilted to the side, she smiled.

I nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t.” I was so engrossed with my search into possible suspects that I hadn’t realized how late it was. Then I’d gotten sucked into an episode ofPerfect Wife. “I was watching TV.”

I left it at that. No use getting her worked up about the stalker situation again.

“Oh.” She brought the cup of warm whiskey to her lips and took a sip. “What were you watching?”

“A true crime documentary.”

Her nose wrinkled in the cutest way. “You watch that crap?”

Agitation stirred in my gut. My ex used to complain about how dumb those kinds of shows were. She would never watch them, and any time I tried, she would make snide comments. I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised that Hattie had a similar opinion.

“It’s like an addiction.” I shrugged. “If it’s on, I get sucked in.”

There was a pull there. To solve the mystery.

She chuckled. “That’s how I am withThe Kardashians.”

A scoff escaped me before I could stop it. “That’s worse.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s debatable. At least mine’s entertaining.”

I slipped my free hand into the pocket of my sweats. “If you say so.”

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