The wicked beat of Dylan’s heart made his chest ache. He drank in every inch of Heaven’s body. Not one part of her differed from his dream. Soft skin. Curves that needed a warning sign. Bright eyes…
It was rude to stare at her as if she were a prized trophy, but damn, she sent his body into overdrive. Had she seen him?
Yes.
Well, she had. Her attention shifted to Chelsea, who rambled about something Dylan couldn’t discern. Had he made Heaven uncomfortable? Maybe he should stick to Layne’s three-second rule.
Or close his mouth.
The unspoken rule sounded more manageable. Okay, so it wasn’t a real rule, unless you were a guy, and it was simple to follow. Don’t stare at a woman you’re interested in for more than three seconds. Anything longer spelled desperation—or psychosis.
Dylan didn’
