Dirty, Reckless Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 3)

I want to lick those muscles. To unbutton his jeans and follow that path of hair from his navel all the way down. My thighs clench at the thought.

“You should come with,” he says, oblivious to the X-rated fantasy reel playing in my head. “Mom would love to see you, and then you could ride with me to the wedding and reception.”

I blink, trying to bring my brain back to the moment. “Ride . . . you?”

“With me?” Levi tilts his head to the side and grins as my cheeks heat. “I wouldn’t mind you riding me either, but that might be a little awkward with all my family there.”

“So says the man who didn’t want me in his shower,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes playfully.

He crosses the kitchen to stand beside me at the table. Gently, he takes my chin in his hand and lowers his mouth to mine. His kiss is slow and coaxing—a soft press of lips, then a minty exploration of tongue that lights my skin on fire and makes me squeeze my thighs together. He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth, and when he pulls back, his eyes are dark and hungry. “You’re wrong about that,” he says, his voice husky. “I wanted you there more than you can imagine. I’m just trying to do the right thing here.”

My heart’s racing, and I take a deep breath to calm it. “That helps my fussy ego at least.”

He skims his thumb over my lips. “Your ego has nothing to worry about.” He steps away from me. “How’d you sleep? You could’ve stayed in my bed. I would’ve behaved myself.”

I fold my arms. “Obviously I didn’t doubt that, or I’d have crawled between your sheets. Naked.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re killing me. You know that?”

“Alas, I had total confidence in your self-control, so I stayed on my side of the house and saved us both a case of blue balls.”

“Speak for yourself,” he mutters, heading to the coffee pot. “So, about today—will you come with me to Brayden’s?”

“I don’t want to intrude. I’d just be in the way.”

“Nonsense. There’s room for everyone.”

“I appreciate you sharing your family credo with me, but I really don’t feel comfortable hanging around while you all do your official wedding stuff.”

“Then go spend the day with the girls.” He pours himself a cup of coffee before turning back to me. “You could help them with their hair and makeup or whatever.”

“And spend my day with homewrecker Molly? Hard pass, but thanks.”

He frowns. “I already told you about that.”

I arch a brow. “That when I went back to Colton I believed he’d been faithful? Yeah. I remember you sharing that with me. I’m just not trusting the judgment of the pregnant and scared Ellie.”

He studies me for a long beat, and something changes in his eyes—a warmth gone cool. “Right.”

Shit. “Pregnant Ellie” slept with Levi. “I mean with decisions regarding Colton,” I say quickly.

He doesn’t press. “Molly said he didn’t cheat on you. I believe her.”

“Good for you.”

He looks away, and I can tell there’s more he wants to say about this, but he doesn’t.

“I’m really fine here. What’s the point in a fancy security system if you never get to use it?”

He studies me for a long time, his face growing more and more serious. “I’m more concerned you’ll start looking for those paintings while I’m gone.”

“Oh, so the truth comes out.”

“I don’t want you playing PI without me by your side.” He drags a hand through his hair. “Hell, I don’t want you playing PI at all, but I’ll lose my mind if I think you’re pursuing this on your own.”

I slide back from the table and join him by the counter to look at the clock. It’s just after nine. “I think I can behave myself for a few hours.”

He scratches his chest, drawing my eyes down past his broad shoulders and over his pecs, which makes me drop my gaze even lower to the ridges of muscle across his stomach. “Ellie,” he growls.