Dirty Sexy Sinner (Dirty Sexy 4)

“Yeah, I knew. Samantha told me,” he admitted, and smiled warmly at her. “You look happier than I’ve ever seen you, Tara, and I’m pretty sure Jackson is the reason.”

“He is,” she said softly, honestly.

Clay nodded. “That alone makes me like the guy, regardless of the fact that he’s my brother and twin. You deserve someone who treats you like gold and makes you feel special, because you are.”

A lump formed in her throat, because Clay wasn’t a man to wax poetically, unless, of course, it came to his wife. “You’ve become a softie since marrying Samantha.”

He shrugged but didn’t deny her truthful claim. “There are certain people I care about and consider family, and you’re one of them. But just so you know, if Jackson so much as hurts you, Mason has already announced that he will break his fucking kneecaps.”

She laughed, because that was exactly something that Mason would say, and do, if needed.

* * *

Since Tara was running late because of her meeting with Clay, she sent a text to Samantha to meet her in front of the boutique instead of Adeline’s, where Samantha worked. The other woman was already at the shop by the time Tara arrived. Her blonde hair was plaited into a neat French braid, and she was wearing a T-shirt with the Adeline’s logo that molded to her increasingly growing belly. Samantha and Clay had recently announced that they were having a girl, and everyone couldn’t be more excited to meet the newest member of the Kincaid family.

When Tara finally reached her friend, they hugged, then Samantha gave her a handled bag from the bakery. “I brought some freshly made cream puffs for you and that gorgeous man of yours,” she said in a teasing tone. “Of course, I can get away with saying that since he looks exactly like Clay.”

Tara laughed. This wasn’t the first time that Samantha had brought her and Jackson treats she’d made. “You’re spoiling Jackson. You know that, right?”

Samantha shrugged, an impish smile on her pink glossy lips. “I just want to make sure he feels welcome and like part of the family.”

“He really does,” Tara assured Samantha, appreciating her efforts. “And he’s certainly not going to refuse a care package of pastries from you.”

Since her car was parked nearby, Tara put the desserts into her vehicle, then came b

ack and linked her arm through Samantha’s as they walked toward the boutique.

“How are you feeling?” Tara asked. The other woman was glowing, but then again, Samantha was stunningly beautiful and always well put together, which was why Tara wanted her advice on an appropriate dress to wear.

“Much better now that the first trimester is out of the way,” she admitted as she placed her hand on the taut swell of her stomach. “My morning sickness is gone, thank God, but now my hormones are wreaking havoc with my sex drive. I want it all the time. Every morning, every night, and oh, my God, the orgasms are so freakin’ intense.” She blushed.

“Lucky Clay,” Tara teased as she opened the door for Samantha.

“Yeah, he’s more than accommodating,” she said cheerfully as she slipped past Tara, then added with a naughty twinkle in her eyes, “He says it’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

“Yeah, what a hardship,” Tara said humorously.

They strolled into the shop, the clothing more unique and upscale compared to where Tara normally bought her clothes. Definitely more catered to Samantha’s previous kind of lifestyle, before she’d walked away from her family’s wealth for the man she loved. Clay had more than enough money to buy anything Samantha’s heart desired, but her wants and needs were simple and revolved around her husband, and now the baby they were going to have.

Tara came to a stop beside Samantha as the other woman eyed a mannequin wearing a sexy red dress with a plunging neckline. Her fingers touched the silky-looking material as she glanced at Tara.

“So, what are we looking for today?” she asked curiously. “Sophisticated or slutty?”

Tara laughed. “Definitely sophisticated. It’s a huge gala to celebrate the firm’s twenty-fifth anniversary, and it’s being held at the Bridgeport Art Center.”

Samantha raised an impressed brow. “Wow. Very swanky.”

“I know,” Tara breathed anxiously. “When I looked the place up on the Internet, I almost had a bona fide panic attack.” It hadn’t helped matters that Jackson told her there would probably be over four hundred people in attendance—from employees to clients to business associates in the industry.

“Really?” Samantha asked in surprise as she strolled to another dress hanging on a nearby rack—a black gown with gold trim that was too somber for Tara’s tastes. “Why are you so nervous?”

Clearly, hanging out at grand, extravagant places like the Bridgeport Art Center was no big deal for someone like Samantha, who’d grown up in the lap of luxury and had attended events in the poshest and trendiest venues in the city. Tara, however, had not. In fact, she was certain she was going to be etiquette challenged compared to all the other cultured women present at the highfalutin party.

Tara tried to explain her apprehension. “Well, other than the art center being one of the most lavish places in the city, I’m sure I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb and look completely out of place.”

“No, you’re not.” Samantha flashed her a confident smile. “That’s why I’m here to help you.”

“I’m meeting his bosses and colleagues for the first time, and I’d really like to make a good impression,” she added, hating that her insecurities were getting the best of her, that her troubled past was messing with her head and instilling doubts.