Sin With Me

8

When I look up, everyone is staring at me.

Ethan, Chris, and Barney all have mouthfuls of food but have stopped chewing.

Kat’s eyes are wide and unblinking.

Nico looks as if he might burst into laughter.

Kenji has a hand to his throat and has gone pale.

Brody’s dark brows are lifted high on his forehead, but it’s not from shock. It’s from amusement, evidenced by the way his voice shakes with repressed laughter when he says, “I have so many questions.”

My composure regained, I simply smile at them all and wave a hand as if I’m passing by in a royal carriage procession. “Oh, that’s just a work thing. Research.”

I stuff the phone back into my handbag and keep my serene smile on my face, even when Barney says in a husky tone, “If that’s from your work, I need to change jobs.”

I meet his penetrating gaze and wink. “I can always use another hand around the office.”

Kat snorts. “‘Use’ being the operative word.”

“My God, lovey,” says Kenji, fluttering his lashes. “Who was that? And can I get an introduction?”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. Marcus—all six foot four, two hundred thirty pounds of him—would break Kenji in half.

The appearance of Thomas interrupts any further questioning. He bursts into the room shouting, “Chloe’s dilated to seven centimeters!”

With her brows pulled together, Kat exclaims, “Already? That’s so fast!”

Concerned by the look on Kat’s face, I ask, “Is that bad? What does it mean?”

Thomas chuckles. “It means she’s swearing like a sailor and giving her mother fits.”

Kat flashes me a look but doesn’t say anything else. My concern deepens.

Thomas adds, “They took her into the delivery room with her mother and A.J. The doctor seems to think it won’t be more than an hour or so before the baby’s out.”

“An hour,” Kat repeats slowly.

While all the guys murmur their approval at how efficient Chloe seems to be at hatching new members of the human race, I watch Kat. She’s gone pale and has started chewing on her lower lip, sure signs of distress.

I pity Nico. I know his wife’s mama bear instinct is going to make her freak out with worry until she can see for herself that Chloe and the baby are both fine.

I slip my feet back into my heels and am about to go over and comfort her, but Brody beats me to it. He moves closer to Kat, bends his head down near hers, and says softly, “My sister’s first kid came really fast, too. It’s not that unusual.”

Kat looks up at him. Her big, almond-shaped eyes fill with hope. “Really?”

Brody nods, smiling down at her reassuringly. “Chloe’s gonna do great. She’s strong and healthy. Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

He sounds so confident that Kat actually lets out a relieved breath. “Thanks, Brody.”

He nods, shares a smile with Nico, and then, whistling, casually strolls away toward a vending machine on the other side of the room, as if he didn’t just prevent a nuclear meltdown.

As the rest of the group chats with Thomas, I follow Brody over to the vending machine. He’s staring at the collection of candy and chips behind the glass like it’s a maddening puzzle.

When I walk up beside him, he asks, “Salty or sweet?”

Without hesitation I pronounce, “Salty.”

He grins, nods in satisfaction as if I’ve passed a test, inserts a bill into the machine, and presses a key for his selection. A bag of salt-and-vinegar potato chips falls from its shelf. Brody retrieves it from the tray and turns to look at me, his cocky grin still firmly in place.

I say, “Thank you.”

He knows exactly what I mean. His shrug is dismissive. He tears open the package of chips, pops one into his mouth, and starts to munch.

I briefly admire the sun-kissed glow on his cheekbones, the copper and gold highlights in his finger-combed brown hair, and the way the muscles in his square jaw flex with every chew, before mentally slapping myself and getting back to what I was saying.

“No, really. Thank you. If Nico or I tried to reassure her it probably would’ve made her worry even more.”

Brody swallows. He licks a fine dusting of salt off his lips. His full, sculpted lips, which now glisten with moisture, might as well be calling out “Kiiisss meee” in a sultry voice.

Stupid lips.

Looking straight into my eyes, Brody says in that low, sexy voice of his, “I didn’t do it for her.”

I think, Holy sparkling unicorns. The way my hoo-ha is tingling, I might as well be watching Ryan Gosling prance naked through a Tiffany store in Paris. I need to never, ever speak to this man again.

Then the clinically trained part of my brain muses, Could this be what it feels like to lose your mind?

My pulse accelerates, my palms start to sweat, and my stomach flutters like a flag in a stiff breeze, but I keep my expression neutral.

I’m excellent at that kind of thing, having practiced it every time I’ve been near him in the past eighteen months.

“Oh. Well, either way. It was a nice thing to do.”

“Nice like when I kissed you in the bathroom at Nico’s?”

My pulse zooms into Formula One racing mode. Naked Ryan Gosling dives into a pile of emeralds and rubies and comes up spouting gold coins.

Steady, Grace. STEADY.