Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,55

He’s totally delish, by the way.”

“I know.”

She didn’t go on, feeling that deep well of sadness rise up within her. Because yes, she suspected Oliver had developed feelings for her. But no, she was not going to have the happily ever after her twin seemed to be envisioning.

It was silly, really. Most women would be envious, thinking she’d be blissfully happy when her engagement to one of the most eligible bachelors alive was announced. In truth, her heart would be shattered, knowing she’d given up her only chance at happiness with the lawyer-turned-groundskeeper who had made her entire world come alive.

“So why are you miserable?” Mad asked, sensing her mood. Her mouth twisted into a frown. “Has he done something to hurt you? Jesus, he’s not married is he!”

“No, of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

She sighed deeply. “I can’t keep him.”

Her sister snorted. “Of course you can.”

“I have to get back to my life in L.A.”

“Bullshit. You can work from here.”

“It’s not the job,” she admitted. “I’ve made a commitment and I can’t back out on it.”

Madison leaned forward, dropping her elbows onto her knees. “There’s no commitment in the world that’s more important than figuring out if this guy is the love of your life.”

“Yes, there is.” She sighed heavily, glad to be able to reveal her secret to someone. Madison would understand, of that she had no doubt. “I’m engaged.”

Her sister spit out her mouthful of wine. It dribbled down her chin, landing on her sweatshirt. She grabbed Candace’s left hand, noted the absence of a ring and gaped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s true,” she insisted. “I’ve made a promise. I’m going to marry Tommy.”

* * *

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Oliver walked up to the main house, knocking on the door for the first time in as long as he could remember so he didn’t make any more identity mistakes. Candace answered right away, holding a small suitcase in her hand. She looked beautiful, as always, wearing slim-fitting tan slacks and a bright pink blouse, the color of cotton candy, cut low over those delicious curves. His mouth watered with the need to taste her, because oh, did she ever melt on his tongue.

Judging by the way her nipples pebbled beneath the fabric, she’d seen his expression and read his thoughts. Those dusky points were prominent against the material, and he wondered if she’d eschewed a bra. Candace was generously built, with breasts that invited lots of deep sucking, which he knew she loved. The thought that she was bare beneath her clothes would torment him throughout the whole drive into the city.

His pants tightened across his groin. He couldn’t even look at her without wanting her. If they weren’t on a timetable, he’d have her on the couch and be between her thighs, cock-deep in heaven, within ninety seconds.

She’d left his place maybe seven hours ago, after a long night filled with eroticism. But seeing her now, he wanted her all over again. He didn’t think he could ever possibly get tired of making love to this woman. For all the years that he’d scoffed at friends who’d fallen victim to the love-and-marriage trap, he suddenly repented. Because the very idea that she might leave tomorrow, that this might all be over, had him ready to offer her just about anything if only she’d stay.

Hell, he’d even follow her. And considering his loathing of Southern California right now, that was probably the biggest sacrifice he could offer, the most sincere declaration he could make of his feelings for her.

Love. That’s what he felt for her. He’d never experienced it before, with any woman, but Candace Reid had crept into his heart and planted a flag, claiming it as her own.

Unable to resist, he slid a hand into her thick, beautiful hair, and drew her close for a kiss. He didn’t for a second worry that he was kissing the wrong woman. Now that he knew there were two of them, he allowed his senses and his instincts to tell him this was his lover. His woman. He’d never mistake anyone else for her again.

They kissed for a long, sultry moment, before finally drawing apart. Candace was pink-cheeked, her lips parted and her breaths shallow.

“Hello to you, too,” she murmured.

“I’ve missed you.”

She didn’t demur or wave that off with an it-was-only-seven-hours comment. Instead, she simply nodded. “I know.”

They stared at one another, exchanged a slow smile, then he reached for her bag. “Ready to go?” he