Forbidden Heat

After changing into her nightgown, she climbed into bed beside Trey. As nice as the evening had been, as she lay there, it felt like something was missing. It took her only a moment to realize that . . . it felt strange lying in bed beside Trey without Jake.

In the morning, Danielle blinked open her eyes as bright summer sunshine washed across her face.

“Time to get up,” Trey said as he stood by the window fastening the last few buttons on his shirt.

She rolled onto her back, away from the glare, and tucked her hands behind her head.

He strolled to the bed and prowled to her side.

“Looking sexy to entice me back to bed won’t work.” He rolled over her, planting a hand on each side of her shoulders, and leaned down to kiss her, then nuzzled her neck. “Well, maybe it will work.”

Delicious tingles danced through her body and she longed to rip open her nightgown and pull him into her depths. Instead, she flattened her hands against his chest . . . his hard sculpted muscular chest . . . and pressed him away, still very conscious of the fact that his sisters were nearby.

“No, we really do need to get up,” she said.

Trey kissed her again, then rolled away. “Okay, but if you change your mind . . .”

“I know.” She grinned. “You’re ready and willing.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, the gentle caress of his lips still haunting her. She showered, pulled on a pair of jeans and a turquoise T-shirt, and headed toward the kitchen.

“Morning, Danielle.” Tasha glanced up from the magazine she was reading while sitting on the couch in the sunny living room. Hickory lay by the window in a patch of sunlight on the carpet.

“Good morning, Tasha. Did you sleep well?”

“Uh-huh. Trey and Suzie are in the kitchen making breakfast.”

Danielle nodded and pushed through the door.

“Hey, Dani. Want a coffee?” At her nod, Trey poured some coffee into one of the tall red stoneware mugs he knew she liked and handed it to her.

“May I help with something?”

“No, you just enjoy your coffee,” said Suzie. “Trey and I have this under control.”

“But—”

“Really. Trey and I work well together.”

Danielle poured a little cream in her coffee and a teaspoon of sugar, then sat at the counter and watched them. They did work well together, Trey turning the sizzling bacon, then pulling it out with tongs and placing it on a stack of paper towels to drain, while Suzie poured the beaten eggs into a frying pan, then glided a wooden spoon back and forth in the pan. The toaster popped up and Trey tossed the toast onto a plate, put a couple more slices of bread into the toaster, then buttered the fresh toast.

She sipped her coffee while she watched them move around the kitchen handling the various tasks like a real team. It probably seemed like the simplest, most ordinary day in the world to Trey and his sisters, but to Danielle, the simple pleasure of a morning breakfast with family seemed like the best thing in the entire world.

Finally, breakfast was ready, and they all sat down at the dining room table, which Tasha had set, to enjoy the hot breakfast together. The kidding and camaraderie around the table made Danielle realize just how much she’d missed by never being a part of a close group of siblings.

As they finished, Suzie said, “Is your friend Jake joining us for dinner tonight?”

“I didn’t ask him, so no. It’s just us tonight.”

Danielle noticed a hint of disappointment in Suzie’s eyes, then it quickly dissappeared. “But we could invite him,” Danielle said.

“Really?” Suzie perked up. “I mean, I haven’t seen him in years and I just thought, well, it might be nice to catch up.”

“Sure, I’ll call him and invite him along,” Trey said with a shrug.

Suzie turned her gaze to her eggs, but Danielle noticed the twinkle in her eyes. Uh-oh. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Suzie had no idea how . . . complicated . . . things were between the three of them, and she knew Trey would die if she found out.

In the short time she’d known Suzie, Danielle had begun to feel a strong attachment to her, and she didn’t like the idea of her being disappointed.