teasing her. Sydney felt like she knew enough about him now to assume it was actually both.
“Well?” he asked.
Well, she could tease this out, too. Sydney dipped down to take what she was sure would be her last sip of cocoa for a while. “What’s the name of the bride-to-be for your uncomfortably early wedding?”
“Annie. The librarian.”
She took a few steps backward. To the edge of the wide doorway into the hall. And thus, to the bedroom. Then she shrugged her shoulder to dip the top even lower onto her arm. And was gratified to see Alex’s gaze track its movement.
“It seems like, for Annie’s sake, and Teague and Everleigh and Amelia, that I need to take one for the team. That my contribution to the successful reopening of the Three Oaks Inn will be to take you to bed.”
To her delight, he stretched out the teasing even further. “You didn’t win the lottery with us. You’re not required to help.”
“Oh, but I think I did win the lottery. The day you agreed to be my fake fiancé.” She held up and waggled the finger with the paper clip ring. “This is my winning ticket.”
“Let me take that off for you.” Alex more than circled her wrist with his hand. Then, with the most sultry, half-masted bedroom eyes, he put her entire finger in his mouth. The light scrape of his teeth raced chills up her arm and down her spine. A few moments later, he held up the ring triumphantly before tossing it onto the coffee table. “In fact, why not let me take everything off for you?”
“It does seem to be a particular talent of yours,” Sydney agreed. “But not in here. Not with Chauncey watching. It’s just creepy.”
“That thing?” He pointed at the five-foot-tall plush elephant with a circus ruff. “Agreed. Please tell me there aren’t more in the bedroom.”
Sydney led him down the hallway. “Don’t worry. My sister’s fiancé made her clean it out, apparently, after the first time he stayed over. Nothing stuffed, no statues, and plain white sheets.”
“There won’t be anything plain about the sheets once you’re lying on them.”
Oh man, Alex was smooth. And every compliment he dished out was layered with absolute veracity.
She’d lit a big balsam jar candle earlier, left over probably from Christmas. It suffused the room with a woodsy scent and a warm glow. Sort of like lying under the tree with just its lights on. “Do you want me to blow it out? Turn more lights on?”
“It’s perfect. I want to be able to see you and feel you. Starting with this tantalizing thing that’s been driving me crazy since I walked in the door.” Alex tugged at the wide black ribbon that crisscrossed her back. “How’d you tie this, anyway?”
“Not easily,” she admitted. #understatement. Sydney had all but dislocated her shoulders. But the burn of intrigue in Alex’s gaze was worth it. “That’s why it’s so loose.”
“Aww, here I thought you were shirt-flirting with me.”
“That, too. We’ll call it fifty-fifty.”
“I call it both clever and maddening.” The more he undid the lacing, the more the shirt gaped open in the front. “Holy hell, you’re not wearing a bra.”
“Nope.” About time he noticed!
“That’s some next-level shirt-flirting, right there.”
“Well, you’re my fake fiancé. I figure that’s earned you a little more effort on my part.”
Alex’s hands pushed up under the top, from her waist. Fingers splayed wide, he slowly dragged them along her sides, around her rib cage, up to cup both breasts firmly. “That effort is very much appreciated, believe you me.”
He was so warm. His hands were so big, covered so much ground. And yet Sydney still arched her back, angling even a millimeter more of her flesh under his touch.
At the same time, it was maddening that she couldn’t touch him. Sure, she’d reached behind to grab his hips, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Dating in winter meant that she’d hardly touched any bare skin, covered in crisp hair.
Time to change that.
Sydney spun around to work on his shirt buttons.
“Whoa,” he protested. “I was in the middle of doing…things. Sexy things. Hopefully good things.”
“Very good. Very one-sided, though.” She spread open the shirt. “Gimme.” Oh, yay. Just the right amount of black hair marched in the sexiest of lines from his navel to disappear into the waistband of the low-slung jean. Exactly as she remembered.
Sydney couldn’t wait to lick it.
She circled her hands up, down, and around his chest, delighting in the ripples of muscles in