I’m not ready to talk relationships, honey, but hey, I need a favor . . .
He’d gone cool on her. Oh, he was polite.
And it had ripped the heart out of her, because she knew what that cool tone hid.
She’d hurt him.
As she opened the door, she looked at her aunt. “I’ve got . . . I’ve got a few minutes, don’t I?”
“A few.” A faint smile curved her aunt’s lips. “As much as I want to get out of this car, I’m not going to. Not right now. Ressa . . . listen to your heart, okay? Not your fear and not your common sense.”
She nodded and closed her hand around Neeci’s. “Let’s get you inside. Bet you’re ready to see Clay.”
They started to walk, but Neeci was dragging her feet. “But . . . but I think Granny should come. She’ll wanna meet—” The girl’s eyes went wide and she snapped her mouth shut.
“Meet who?” Ressa asked, frowning.
The door opened and Clayton came tumbling out—he was walking backward and he had both hands wrapped around the much larger hand of somebody else—a somebody else who wasn’t Trey. Or his twin.
“Come on. I want you to meet my best friend.”
“Okay, okay . . .” The man’s voice was smooth, easy, and he laughed as Clayton dragged him along. He wasn’t exactly fighting.
“Come on!” Clayton said again.
Guess he wasn’t moving fast enough for the boy, Ressa mused.
“Is that who you wanted Granny to meet?” she asked, looking down at her cousin.
But Neeci had gone still, almost frozen.
“Clayton, did you finish your . . . ? Ressa.”
She looked past Clayton and his hostage to see Trey standing in the door. Swallowing, she opened her mouth and a dozen things leaped into her mind. I’m sorry. I take it back. Can we have a do-over?
But all she said was, “Morning, Trey. Thanks for . . . helping out.” It was lame and stupid and everything she didn’t need to say.
“No problem.” He just nodded shortly at her and then shifted his attention to Neeci, a warm easy smile on his face. “Hey, sweetie. You had breakfast yet?”
Neeci just stood there. Still frozen.
“Baby, what is wrong with you?”
“Neeci! Say hi to my Uncle Sebastian!”
Ohhhhh . . .
Shifting her attention to the man with a hat pulled down low over his face, she studied him—or what she could see. Wow.
He smiled at her. “Hello.” That voice—it was rich, sinful, like liquid chocolate and rich wine, an audible stroke over bare skin. And something told her the user knew very well the power behind that voice.
That hat, too, tugged down as low as it was, didn’t do a damn thing to hide the sheer male beauty of his face.
“I’ll be damned,” she murmured. “Sebastian Barnes.”
“He’s my uncle!” Clayton said, grinning with delight and obvious pride.
Amused affection flooding her heart, she looked at Clayton. “So I’ve heard.” Then, because she had to say it, she said, “I miss seeing you, Clay.”
The smile faded a little, but only for a minute, because he beamed at her. “Then you should stay and play with us. We’re swimming. All day. Except Uncle Travis. He says he’s still sick.”
“I’d love to, baby, but I’ve got something I have to take care of.” Because she couldn’t stand the way his smile faded again, she bent down and murmured to Neeci, “You should say hi.”
Neeci gave her a wide-eyed stare.
Then she looked at the man who’d moved a few feet closer.
“But . . . but . . .”
“Hi there.”
Sebastian crouched a short distance away, studying Neeci with solemn eyes. “I’m trying to decide if I should be jealous.”
Neeci blinked at him.
Sebastian heaved out a heavy, forlorn sigh and he looked for all the world like somebody had stolen the stars from his sky. Then he slid Neeci a sad look. “Clay’s been my best buddy since he was born, but now he tells me he’s got a new best friend.”
Neeci licked her lips. “He . . . you . . . I . . .”
“Stop it, Uncle Sebastian,” Clayton said, shoving at his uncle as he wedged his smaller body between them all. With a very serious expression, he said, “I’ve got grown-up best friends and you’re one of them, but I need a kid best friend and that’s Neeci.”
“Well.” Sebastian frowned and then nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” Then he held out his hand.
Ressa found herself charmed by him, the way he waited until Neeci slid her hand nervously into his, and apparently she wasn’t the only one, because a slow, shy smile bloomed across her cousin’s face in the next moment. “You’re in movies.”
Sebastian shrugged. “Yeah, well, I can’t write books like Clayton’s dad. Seemed to make sense.”
Since Neeci was relaxing, Ressa straightened. Her heart lurched up in her throat as she found herself staring straight into Trey’s eyes. He’d moved closer, without her realizing it. So close she could reach out and touched him, if she just took a step or two.
And she did.
But not to touch him.
Heart slamming, she watched him. Watched him watching her, but instead of the heat or the humor or the hunger she was so used to seeing, there was . . . nothing. A curious blankness like he was trying to hide everything he felt.
“Can we talk sometime? Sometime soon?” she blurted out. Her voice hitched. She couldn’t do this anymore. Her aunt was right. If they could make it work, then damn it, she wanted it to work. “I . . . I messed up. I just . . .”
Her words trailed off as she felt a number of gazes swing her way.
And then, Trey’s hand closed around hers and she was being pulled away from the front yard. “I have to leave,” she said, resenting the fact that she did have to go. “My cousin—”
“I get that. Two minutes,” Trey said, letting go of her wrist as soon as they rounded the corner of his house, mostly hidden from the front, thanks to the landscaping.
The scent of honeysuckle mixed with roses flooded her head as she sucked in a breath.
Two minutes.
She met his eyes. “I miss you,” she said and the words came out easier than she would have thought possible. “And I can’t do this. I messed up. Please . . . can we talk?”
His lashes swept down and for a moment that stretched into eternity, she felt her world crash to a halt. “Trey, please . . .” She moved closer, reaching for him, not caring in that moment if she sounded desperate—she was.
He caught her wrist.
She sucked in a breath.
Was it too—
And then she couldn’t breathe.
His mouth took hers in a kiss that all but stopped her heart. His free hand came up, touched her cheek. It was a gentle touch, so at odds with the way his mouth devoured hers, his tongue pushing inside in a bold, demanding claim.
Her knees shook. Her heart rolled over. And she was about ready to wrap herself around him and beg the world to go away—for thirty minutes, or even ten—all from that one deep, devastating kiss.
They barely touched, save for that hot, hungry kiss—his hand on her cheek, the other gripping her wrist.
A growl sounded in his chest when she caught his tongue and sucked on him and then he tore away. Now, he caught her close, one hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. “I missed you doesn’t cover what I felt,” he whispered against her neck.
Then he moved away and she swallowed, her blood humming, her heart racing.
And damn him, his voice was just as cool as could be when he spoke again. “When did you have in mind?”
“I . . .” She had to clear her throat. She should also change her damn panties, she thought wryly, but that wasn’t an option right now. “I don’t know.”
She blew out a breath and looked away. “I don’t know where my head will be tonight. I don’t know if I’ll be pissed . . . or what . . . after I talk to Kiara.”