“Emily. You don’t know her. Moved in our senior year. Lives in… California.”

She’d have to eventually tell him this was all a big, fat lie. But after they had sex he’d be willing to forgive her, she figured.

He sighed. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Okay, she hadn’t messed up. He wasn’t enthusiastic about it—not like about eating her pie…and yes, her cheeks heated again thinking about how he’d said that—but he was willing. She would want him enthusiastic about the sex, of course, but the first step was willing. For sure. And surely, he’d look at sex as more appealing than getting up early and going out in the cold, dark morning to pick someone up from the airport.

Wow, she hoped so at least.

But hey, if she could only have willing or enthusiastic in bed, she’d take willing at this point.

“Or I could just borrow your car,” she said, wanting to hear him say that no, he really was willing to make the twenty-minute drive with her in the dark and cold. “You have better tires than I do.”

“I’ll drive you,” he said more firmly. “Now that I know you’re going, I’ll feel better if I’m with you.”

“You don’t think I can drive myself?” she asked, because usual, not-trying-to-get-laid Zoe would be offended to think he thought she couldn’t do it herself.

He sighed. “For fuck’s sake. Of course, you can. But now you’re not going to.”

Dang, she liked when he got a little firm.

She frowned. Okay, that was new. She didn’t like being bossed around.

He leaned in and she sucked in a breath. But he was just putting the empty pie plate on the counter.

She let the breath out slowly so he wouldn’t know that she’d sucked it in.

“What time are we leaving?” he asked.

He seemed to still be leaning in a little.

“Five a.m.,” she tossed out. Since it was a lie, it didn’t matter.

He sighed again. Aiden wasn’t really a morning person. It was one of the reasons the was the story she’d come up with to test him involved an early hour. Five a.m. was a normal time of day for her to open her eyes. The bakery opened at six. But Aiden didn’t get up before eight and it was rarely before nine when he was on vacation.

“Fine. But you better have muffins and coffee ready.”

And just like that, everything clicked into place. Relief washed through her.

He’d been willing to give her the last slice of his favorite pie. He’d loan her money without question. He’d get up three hours early and drive on snowy December roads to pick up a friend of hers from the airport on Christmas Day.

He would definitely help her get rid of her virginity.

“Thanks, Aiden,” she said with a bright smile.

He lifted his eyebrows again, probably thinking that her sincerity was a little over-the-top for a simple ride to Dubuque.

And it was. He had no idea all the things she was going to be appreciating him for later.

3

Aiden heard his door creak as it opened slowly and he sighed.

Was Cam in the wrong room?

He’d had several beers—as he often did after running into Whitney Lancaster—so maybe he was too drunk to find his own bed.

“Cam, wrong room, bro.”

The door swung wider and the floorboard just on the inside of the threshold creaked.

Aiden rolled to his back. It wouldn’t be the first…or maybe last…time he and Cam shared a bed. They’d crashed together on more than one spring break trip and road trip. It had been a while though and his best friend was a blanket hog.

His door swung shut and latched and another floorboard creaked. Aiden sighed. He’d just have to get up and go to Cam’s room, he supposed.

“Cam, dude. You better not puke in here.”

Aiden had had a few beers too as they’d all played cards and chatted and laughed. He always kicked back and relaxed when he was in Appleby and he didn’t usually drink much. His hometown was one of his favorite places in the world and the McCafferys were some of his favorite people and he found himself mellow and having fun without any extra alcohol. But trying to ignore Zoe tonight had required a couple additional beers.

It hadn’t helped, but he’d tried.

But he definitely wasn’t puking drunk. Or not-find-his-own-room drunk.

Thankfully, while Cam would have nasty headaches and be ten times grumpier than usual—which was really grumpy—after having too many, but he rarely puked.

“Aiden, it’s me.”

That soft voice was not Cam’s.

Aiden blinked into the darkness. “Zoe? You okay?”

Zoe McCaffery was in his bedroom. Well that was…unexpected. And way, way too tempting. Especially after the chocolate pie incident.

It had hardly been an incident. He knew that. But his brain wouldn’t stop thinking about her mouth and her finger and the chocolate…

Yeah, she really needed to not be in his bedroom.

But if she was sick or hurt or something was going on, then he’d have to fix that first. And pray to God that she was wearing long, baggy, flannel pajamas.

She moved closer to the bed and the light from the street light outside his window hit her from the waist down.

She was not wearing long, baggy flannel pajamas.

She wasn’t even wearing that little bitty nightgown she’d been wearing around the house.

In fact, he was pretty damned sure that what she was wearing didn’t even qualify as pajamas.

That was a teddy.

A skimpy, silky, lacy teddy.

In pink.

Candy pink.

His favorite color.

Fuuuuuck.

“I need you, Aiden,” she said, her voice soft and almost tentative.

Soft and tentative were not usual adjectives when it came to Zoe. She was fierce and sassy and stubborn and easily annoyed, by him and her brother in particular.

He pushed up onto his elbows. She needed him? Maybe she wasn’t okay. Maybe she always slept in that thing—holy shit was he going to wonder about that now—and she was in here because she was sick.

“Zoe, what’s going on?”

“I need you,” she said again.

“Yeah, but—”

Her meaning became very clear a moment later when she climbed up on the bed, and straddled his thighs, settling her hot, soft body on top of his.

On top of his.

In that barely-there teddy. And him in only his boxers.

His body reacted far faster than his brain did. His heart started thumping, his hands moved to rest on her hips, and his cock swelled. Instinctively, he pressed her down against the nearly instantaneous ache. Hey, he was a guy…a sleepy guy with a few beers sloshing around in his brain…and there was a hot, sweet-smelling woman right on top of his cock. What did anyone think was going to happen in that situation?

Besides, this was not just any hot, sweet-smelling woman.

This was Zoe. He’d thought she was beautiful, sexy, smart, and funny for years. Literally.

And for the past two he’d been trying very hard not to kiss her.

And not to admit that he was in love with her.

She gave a soft moan and circled her hips, rubbing against his hard-as-fuck erection. One thin layer of cotton and one very thin layer of silk was all that separated them and her heat seemed to seep into him and spread through his body.