Call You Mine (The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers #4) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,34

and my thoughts. This is a bad idea. I need to figure out another way to accomplish what I want. A plan where my best friend isn’t involved.

“Give me the phone, G,” he orders with that low, sweet, commanding voice that makes everyone think he’s sensitive. They are wrong. The guy is actually demanding. He wants everyone to do as he says. The guy is bossy as fuck. Also, he’s a big subscriber of the saying, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Beacon always gets his way.

It works with everyone—but me.

“What’s the big idea, Beacon?” I keep my voice steady and don’t make any sudden movements.

This guy will take anything as a challenge and fight the phone off me. “I’m not one of your minions ready to do whatever you want. I can do this on my own. Thank you for going along with it though.”

He leans closer, caressing my cheek with the back of his knuckles. My skin prickles, and I don’t understand the reaction my body is having to him. Maybe it’s that gaze that’s making me shiver.

“Back off,” I order.

He takes a step back, and I jump out of the chair. We need distance. I need to shake off the stupid tingly feelings.

This isn’t me.

I don’t swoon after him. He’s a player. Guys like Beacon aren’t my type, not since I was sixteen.

“What are you doing?” I cross my arms, glaring at him. Fighting a series of feelings that don’t belong inside me.

Those are exclusively for Beacon’s groupies.

“Well, I plan on giving you the courting-boyfriend-swoony experience. After that, you’ll know how to be less…awkward. You’ll also know what you like.”

I huff. He doesn’t have any of that in him. Does he?

“So, if I don’t like any of the stuff you do?”

“I switch it around until we find what makes you happy.” He uses a bass-like voice that reverberates all over my body.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he made up his mind, and he’s already in character.

“What’s your ulterior motive, Aldridge?”

“There’s no motive, G. You know I’d do anything for you,” he says, and the honesty in his eyes alters everything inside me.

He will do anything, just as I would for him, but dating is…It’s a bad idea. Isn’t it?

“If we do this, we should set some limits.”

He rolls his eyes. “There aren’t any limits in dating.”

Extending his hand and wiggling his fingers, he requests, “The list. I need to see it.”

Instead of giving him my phone, I text him the list.

“We can have fun with number one.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Lots of fun. I can’t wait to fluster the fuck out of you.”

“Limits,” I repeat.

“There’re no limits, and when you flirt, you have to dish it back,” he counteracts. “Imagine we’re playing a melody, and I start a solo riff with my guitar. You join with the cello and play just as hard. Can you listen to the beautiful music we’re making together?”

I close my eyes and I do. That’s exactly how we always play the best melodies.

Have we been flirting all this time? I open my eyes, confused. “Flirting is like music?”

He nods. “I play hard. You sweeten it with your melodic voice and some delightful charm.”

“Sounds easy.”

“And fun,” he adds. “Just go with the flow.”

I take a long breath before saying, “I can do that.”

“Number two is a good one. I think it’ll need a lot of practice though. Learn to kiss well…” He winks at me. “You’re in for a treat.”

“Cocky much?”

“No, just being honest. You want a demonstration?” He takes a step and closes the short distance between us. “I’d love to give you a free sample.”

I stare at his lips. It’s been so long since the first time we kissed. It feels like decades.

Fourteen years, but who’s counting. Wow, it’s been more than a decade since the day I told him, “I’ve never been kissed. If I ask you to be my first…?”

I wanted my first kiss to be unique. From someone I cared about and who cared about me in return. It wasn’t perfect, but it was addictive. So addictive that we found time to do more and more until two years later, we made love.

When he said we should stop, it felt like a sign.

Mom warned me that we could break each other. I shared her fear that I would end up hurt pretty bad. Would he have broken me, though?

What if he breaks me this time?

“You’re overthinking, G,” he says with that easy

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