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So I might not be great with guys or whatever, but there’s no mistaking the way Dylan’s looking at me. His mouth isn’t open, but his jaw is slack. And his eyes are definitely not on my face.

I have no idea if I should be offended or totally soak it in. I go for the second, because walking on stilts has me feeling reckless.

Eleven

~ Dylan ~

Damn. I knew she had a good body, but… toned legs. Lots and lots of toned legs. Long, lean waist. Perfect, slender curves. And if I thought her neck was sexy before, it’s nothing like how it is now. The single strand of hair I wanted to touch has turned into several, and I can’t decide if they should all be put up or if the way they touch her cheekbones and neck would make it worth keeping them down.

I’m seriously close to embarrassing myself, so I shift to make sure nothing’s poking out.

Derrick coughs, and I jump. Her eyes are on me. Shit. I definitely wasn’t looking at her face. Hopefully, I’m not supposed to be answering a question, because I definitely didn’t hear anything.

“I just stopped by because we have a cake appointment, and…” Derrick trails off like he not only takes orders from Lora, but from Ziah, too.

“Well, I’m not missing cake testing, and I really want out of these shoes.” I swear she stands up even taller than before.

I take that as an invitation to check her legs again. I mean, they’re right there. A guy can only be so strong.

“So, we’ll see you guys there?” she asks.

“Sounds good,” Derrick says.

“Wait. Weren’t you supposed to be doing this today, too?” Ziah’s hands go on her perfectly curved hips as she shifts her weight.

“The tailor said he wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow,” Derrick says.

“Damn.” Ziah sighs. “I really thought you two were being tortured today—just like me.”

I am. She just doesn’t know it.

“We’ll see you girls in a few then.” Derrick’s hand grabs my shoulder with a little too much force.

“Yeah. See you.” I glare at my brother before smiling at Ziah.

When she turns, it’s all curves again, and a lot of bare back. Derrick slaps the back of my head as Ziah steps back behind the curtain.

“What the hell’d you do that for?” I ask as I rub my head and try to get my hair to sit right again.

“Wipe the drool off your mouth, and don’t. Even. Think. It.”

I start to protest, but it’s probably pointless. “Whatever,” I mumble. “She’s not my type.”

Derrick snorts as he pushes open the door. “Her and her sister have the same body. That’s everyone’s type.”

I want to make a smart-ass comment about Derrick checking out his fiancé’s sister, but I keep it to myself. Maybe I’ll save it for later. Instead I go back to thinking about Ziah and her mile-long legs and wondering what they’d feel like under my fingertips.

***

Lora steps into the cake shop followed by Ziah, and even though she’s in jeans and shoes, all I can see is that damn dress. Her long waist. Her perfect body. Toned calves, shaped thighs. And the shoes. Holy hell if girls knew what shoes like that did to their legs… actually, maybe they do. It’s a pretty good weapon for them to have.

I need to kick this girl out of my head and run as far away from her as I can get. Mary and I need to find an open road somewhere and forget about brothers, sisters, and T-shirt wearing girls who should not be sexy, yet somehow are.

Oh, and said girl is going to be my sister-in-law? It’s not creepy and against the law, I remind myself. It’s not like we’ll be related by blood, but I also don’t think my blood should be flowing to specific parts of my anatomy so powerfully when I’m around her either.

I need to focus on her jeans instead of those bare legs.

“I got lured into lame wedding stuff with the promise of cake, didn’t I?” Ziah sighs, keeping her eyes on Lora.

“You’re not the only one.” I give my brother what I hope looks like a friendly slug, but he winces. I hit my mark just right.





“You did.” Lora grabs Ziah from the side and kisses her temple as she laughs.

“Eww. Weren’t your lips JUST on his?” Ziah makes a face and rubs the side of her head.

“Grow up, Ziah.” Lora rolls her eyes, and then leans close to her sister. “Let’s start with the chocolate…”

They ooh and aah over flowered cakes that don’t look like food. Lora more than Ziah, but they’re definitely getting along better. And Ziah looks happier. I figured I was stepping over a million boundaries when I said something to Lora, but I really didn’t want any more of Ziah crying in Mary. And I was trying to be nice to her since Derrick has it in his head that I’m not. Maybe he doesn’t realize how much I’m not saying. That could shut him up.

I look over and see Derrick and Lora interacting with their typical vomit-inducing sweetness. Ziah’s got a scowl on her face again, but this time I know it’s not for me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to give her a hard time.

Or study her lips.

Yeah, that sounds pretty fun.

“You should definitely taste this.” I hold a piece of cake out to her. I’m totally screwing myself over here, too, because I’m tempting myself with something I can never touch. But damn it would be fun.

“Yeah, like I’m going to eat food out of your hand.”

“Why? You scared? Thinking you’ll like it too much?” I wink at her for good measure.

“No, I’m just not an idiot.”

“It’s incredible.” I move it closer. “Strawberry.  Come on, Hanes. Don’t be a wuss. We had a truce. I’ll be nice.” She licks her lips, and I could swear she’s doing it on purpose. “Like I said… Unless you’re scared.”

“I’ll be good, and even put it on a fork.” It’ll still work this way. I set the bite down before I put it on the fork and hold it out to her again. Ziah shakes her head, but then she opens her mouth and takes the bite.

I groan because that? Yeah, totally hot. Derrick gives me a quick look like he can read my mind, but I ignore him.

“You’re right. That was delicious. I’m marking it down as one of my favorites.”

I fork another bite and give it to her. This is torture, but sexy. And it’ll be a lot more fun in a minute. When I get to the third bite, I think she’s enjoying this just as much as I am. When she opens her mouth this time, I pretend I’m going to feed her the bite. At the last second I let the fork take a turn and get cake all over her nose.

“Dylan!”

She grabs a napkin to wipe it off her face, and all I can do is laugh.

***

By the time we hit the third bakery, I never want to see another damn cake again. Derrick and Lora have argued vanilla vs. chocolate, chocolate vs. strawberry, filling vs. no filling vs. blah, blah, blah. I’m really not seeing what the big deal is. It’s a cake.

“I want to die.” Ziah closes her eyes, her arms hung limp at her sides.

“Agreed.” I’m as low in my chair as I can get, my hands resting carefully on my bloated stomach.

“Three quickie locations, and then you two can do whatever you want.” Lora gives her sister a too-bright smile.

I groan. “Are there even any more cake flavors out there to taste?”

“It’s not about the flavor, it’s about how they’re made, too.” But Lora’s quiet. Maybe worried about how I’ll react or something.

“Lora. I can’t move. I’m serious,” Ziah protests.

Lora’s eyes widen. “I warned you when you were eating full slices instead of the samples that this was going to happen.”

Or when I kept feeding her extra bites off the fork.

“Get up, you big wuss.” Derrick mock-punches me in the gut, which means I flinch, which means I’m reminded of every bite of cake I’ve eaten since lunch.

Lora leans over and whispers in Derrick’s ear. His body slowly gets closer and closer to hers, and his smile gets bigger and bigger. I don’t even want to know what they’re pla