Page 74 of My Ex's Brothers

It’s barely ten minutes before he sighs, pulling into the mall parking lot.

“Amelia…listen…”

“We don’t have to talk about it, Dane. It’s fine, I?—”

“No, we should,” he says, turning the car off. I look at him, my heart in my throat. He’s so handsome. Familiar amber eyes and dark hair, that perfect jawline.

But looking at him now, in his car, with my daughter snoozing in the back seat, I can’t help but think that he looks nothing like Dex.

“I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t bother me,” he says softly. “You and Tripp.” Before I can open my mouth, he stops me. “I’m also not going to pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.”

I look at him, at his wistful brown eyes, his tight, defined forearms that are elongated by his rolled-up sleeves. He looks like something out of a damn romance novel. Absolutely perfect.

“So why aren’t you? Kissing me right now?” I ask, feeling the space between us. I lean in just a fraction and his gaze flashes to my mouth.

“Do you want me to?” he asks after a tense pause.

“Yes,” I whisper before dropping my gaze. “Ever since I’ve come home, I’ve just been…everything is just…complicated.”

“There’s that word again,” he says, and I feel him lean closer to my space, even though I look away.

His hand finds my chin, pulling me to look up at him. His gaze softens.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” he says. “Maybe we just…do what feels right and go from there.”

I gaze up at his amber eyes, letting the words settle. I can’t deny that this moment, being in this car with him, Lyla…

It feels right.

But so does giggling with Tripp or arguing with Richie.

They all feel right in some way, which is so verycomplicated.

“Okay,” I say softly as he smiles, and I can’t resist him. I lean in, closing the space between us, and crush my mouth to his. He tastes like bitter coffee and bad decisions.

Like familiarity and a new discovery all at once.

Dane Rose kisses me softly, reverently as he groans into my mouth, his tongue finding mine with ease. My cheeks flush and my legs tighten as a shock wave of pleasure spikes through me.

And then it’s gone. He breaks away, smiling at me.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice much darker than it was a moment ago, and I think if we don’t get out of this car, I may kiss him again. And again until I can’t breathe.

How is it that he makes me feel this way? Even after all this time? Even after everything that has happened?

“Yes,” I say, nodding in response. He gets out of the car, popping the trunk to get the stroller out, and I follow suit to get Lyla out of her car seat.

The rest of the day goes smoothly. Almost too smooth, actually. We get some things for her nursery slash library, some essentials to stock the fridge. Dane buys too many toys and books to count, and although I tell him Lyla doesn’t need any of those things, he doesn’t take no for an answer.

“I want to,” he says. He says that a lot. Hewantsto take care of us.

He wants to take care ofme.

When he’s finally had his fill of buying Lyla everything Target has to offer for a five-month-old girl, we find ourselves a spot on the outside patio ofL’Orange. I’ve never been much for fancy restaurants, but there’s something about the ambiance of a French restaurant. The smells, the sounds. It’s strangely relaxing. Lyla is passed out in her stroller, likely from a day full of so much energy. Though I can’t believe we’ve been out for hours, when it feels like no time has passed at all.

Dane crosses his legs, peering at his menu. The steam from his cappuccino rises, casting a hazy, smoky glow on him. Amidst the deep blues and ambient lighting, he is hard not to stare at. I can’t remember ever staring at Dex like this, which is crazy, considering they look identical.

I bite my lip, tearing my gaze away as I figure I should actually read my menu and figure out what I want. Problem is, what I want is not on the menu…

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