Holy crap! Zane was right.
Kristy, Rose, and Hope are standing in the living room, surrounding my fiancé. I hear the kids in the background, but my God, I can’t shift my gaze from Zane’s bare back.
And what a back it is.
Broad shoulders with bunched muscles. Distinct arching shoulder blades that would be perfect for licking or scratching as per my limited adventure with few porn movies. There are two dips just above the waistband of his track pants on either side of his spine. Before I can further drool over the deliciousness or burn it better in my memory, Kristy asks, “Where’s Vi?”
Crap! I look around the room.
Wouldn’t they expect me to be in Zane’s bedroom? What sort of whirlwind romance would this be if I’m found sleeping in the guest room?
I grab the duvet and peek once again at the living room before opening the door quietly. I shut the guest room door, hoping no one enters here.
While flinging the door to Zane’s room open, I say a silent thank-you to God that this small corridor between the two bedrooms isn’t in sight of the huge living room.
I have no idea what excuse Zane’s probably making to his sisters, but I’m sure it won’t be long before they all come here looking for me.
I should get settled soon. If only my legs would freaking move.
The oak floor beneath my bare feet is warm, and I feel the texture of the uneven wooden pieces joined together like a puzzle. A mural covers the entire wall behind the bed. Painted with shades of white, black, and gray, it seems as if the ocean waves protruding out of the wall will engulf the whole room.
My gaze progresses lower, finally settling on the bed.
A low bed, completely black—black frame, black sheets perfectly tucked at the sides, and a folded black cover.
I get two more seconds to imagine Zane lying on top of this beauty before I hear footsteps.
I quickly jump onto the mattress, holding the lilac duvet I hauled from the guest room, and hide myself under it. My heart is beating like a freight train, speeding and roaring. I don’t know if it’s the excitement of the action or my imagination, but suddenly I feel like a lit firecracker.
“Vi,” Hope calls me softly, and I pull the covers down from over my head.
The three women are smiling at me, but my eyes find Zane hiding behind them. His gaze widens when he spots me in the middle of his bed. For a brief second, he looks over his shoulder toward the guest bedroom before staring right back at me.
“We’re sorry for intruding like this, but Clem only has this weekend to work on your dress. She’s leaving next week for a fashion show in Italy.” Kristy’s eyes dance as she glances between Zane and me. “Why don’t you get ready and meet us in the living room? We’ll arrange breakfast, which Hope got from Cakes for All.”
I nod and the three girls leave, and as if the temperature here wasn’t heated enough, Rose shuts the door behind them.
Zane swallows, and without his suit jacket, his tie, and the collar of his shirt, I really see his Adam’s apple bob. My gaze slides down his chest—his glorious bare chest, as he already informed me it’s without a single hair or…tattoo. Though, I think, I wouldn’t mind the latter. My curious and inquisitive gaze has reached up to his flat stomach, and only when I think I catch sight of…something that makes my pulse shoot up, Zane turns around.
But my snoopy gaze, which is dying of some hotness hasn’t received the memo and I once again trace his back. This time focusing better on the dimples on his lower back. “You didn’t say anything about your bare back,” I blurt and not softly but in clear, loud words.
Zane looks at me over his shoulder, and the reddening tips of his earlobes make my heart pitter-patter so loud that I can almost hear it.
“Vi, you and Zane can do all the naughty stuff after your wedding. Come out now.” I hear Hope’s voice and everyone chuckling from outside the door.
Zane smiles and the affection that lights his face is so cute. He grabs a T-shirt from his dresser, still giving me his back. I’m not complaining, as he does have a beautiful back, but I’d love to see his gorgeous face right now.
He finally turns around. In my mind, I’m ripping that gray T-shirt off his chest in slow motion.
My brain is really sick.
The noises from the living room remind me that we aren’t alone.
“You were right.” I get up from the bed. “But I still can’t believe they’re here.”
Zane shrugs, and before I’m again distracted by this version of him, where his perfect hair is tousled and he’s out of the three-piece suit, I ask, “How do I change?” I look down at my boy shorts and plain cotton T-shirt.
When I glance back up, Zane’s checking me out too. I bite my lip, trying hard to hold back my smile.