Page 77 of Attached At Heart
I stared down at my black shirt and the black jacket hanging open over it.
“Black is a universally flattering color,” I argued.
“Is that why you like my graduation dress so much?” Delaney raised a brow. “Because it’s black and therefore my only flattering dress?”
“No,” I sputtered, thrown off that she’d brought up that dress. And that she knew I liked it so fucking much. “I didn’t say black was theonlyflattering option. Justaflattering option. You do remember what I thought about that red dress you tried on for me, right? Case in point.”
“Oh, yeah. That dress.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, and I immediately regretted bringing up any mention of that dress. Or how I’d reacted to it. How I’d come dangerously close to throwing it all away and telling her exactly what I thought about her in that dress. Most specifically, how I’d do anything to strip it off her. “We have dinner reservations at a place in Amsterdam tomorrow, right? I think I’m going to wear that.”
It was possible I stopped breathing.
Or maybe my heart stopped beating.
If it hadn’t already, it would soon.
Because Delaney was trying tokillme.
“You…packed it?”
She nodded sweetly, but I had a feeling that whatever thoughts were dancing through Delaney’s brain were not entirely sweet. And I had no idea what to do about that.
She flashed me a smirk. “I think it will pair nicely with the all-black ensemble I’m sure you have lined up.”
“I like color,” I ground out. “Just not on me.”
“If black isn’t your favorite color, then I have no clue what is,” Delaney laughed.
“Blue,” I said automatically.
“Blue?”
I cleared my throat. “Like a sapphire blue.”
That seemed to catch Delaney off guard. She cocked her head to the side, considering my answer. But I didn’t really want her to dive too far into it. Delaney was smart, too smart, and if she thought about it for just two more seconds…
“Here, let me take some more pictures of you.” I lifted my phone again. “We can turn them into a new puzzle. One you don’t already have memorized.”
“I don’t want my puzzles to have pictures ofmeon them.” Delaney rolled her eyes but smiled as she backed up so I could snap a few more photos of her between the rows of tulips.
“Should we take one together?” she asked after I’d taken more pictures than was truly logical. I wondered if she would notice if I changed one to my lock screen. Probably.Damn.
“Sure,” I agreed, striding to stand beside her. She slipped her arm behind my back, and I took a steady breath as she inched closer to me. So close, so very close. Not as close as this morning, but still. She smelled sweet, like spring. And that, combined with the brush of her fingers on my back, was enough to suffocate me with desire.
I held up my phone and smiled. She did the same. I took the picture, and she tilted her head to the side, resting it on my shoulder. So I took another picture. She turned to look at me, and on instinct, I turned to look back. Her eyes sparkled as they blinked up at me, and in that moment, everything in the world ceased to exist except her.
I was so fucked.
“This was the whole reason you told your family that we were coming here,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, it is.”
She licked her lips. My gaze shamelessly dropped to her mouth. My arm fell, my phone forgotten. I watched as she tried to find the courage or the words to say something.
“I suppose these pictures should be…really convincing,” she breathed, all while I was tracing the shape of her lips with my eyes.
“Would definitely help me save my ego.”
“And we certainly wouldn’t want anything to happen to your ego,” she said, and then, unless I was imagining things—which was completely possible at this point—Delaney’s gaze flicked to my mouth. But not in a way that she was trying to hide. More in a way that she was trying to imply something. “I think the occasion calls for it, Blake.”
