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My stomach knotted, but I caught movement over his shoulder. Bastian, shirtless and sweats riding low on his hips, strode out his front door.

  Disappointment over Zane’s reaction to my disfigurement fled as I stared at the tanned perfection of Bastian’s body … the bare chest … the line of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband.

  My mouth dry as cotton, I forced my focus back on the much taller Risso brother before me. Although hot by any woman’s standards, he didn’t compare to Bastian’s less intimidating size and non-cocky swagger.

  “I’m Eve.” I shook his hand, but pulled away as Bastian sidled up to me, fiery gaze on his brother. Radiant heat from his half-naked body caressed my bare limbs, and as a shudder rippled through me, moisture seeped, dampening my panties.

  Zane snickered. “Relax, kid. Hands off. Promise.”

  Bastian continued to glare, and I glanced between the two men, confused.

  “Been a long night.” Zane stretched his arms overhead, lifting his shirt and giving me an eyeful of abs he doubtless tried to lure women with. “Think some sleep might be in order. Eve, nice meeting you.” He flashed a smile before turning and ambling across the street.

  I tossed my backpack onto the Subaru’s back seat and slammed the door, trying like hell not to stare at the bare skin mere feet away from me. Meeting Bastian’s gaze proved challenging. My eyes wanted to delve down. My hands wanted to explore the ridges and indents of muscle and bone.

  “Did Zane say anything inappropriate that I need to kick his ass for?” he asked, hands fisted at his sides.

  A dry laugh escaped as I tried to work saliva back to my mouth. “No, but I’m kind of wishing he had.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  I shrugged off his question, not wanting to admit the thrill I’d get over his beating on someone for eyeing up my lip.

  Bastian’s shoulders relaxed, and a luscious, lopsided smirk appeared. “He might be taller and wider than me, but Zane’s a pansy. I’ve taken him down before. He taps out before I even get to inflict real pain and pin his ass.”

  “You wrestled in school?”

  “Went to states.” He glanced down at my attire, his gaze lingering below the frayed edges of my cut-off jeans. “Going hiking?”

  “Yeah.”

  Bastian cleared his throat and angled toward his house, but not before I caught the beginnings of a tent in the front of his sweats. “Be careful.”

  “Always am.” My voice escaped ragged, like he’d been ravaging my body with the morning erection my hands longed to caress.

  He started away, and my gaze honed in on his muscular back. His round ass. Hell, even his bare feet were sexy.

  Get a grip, Eve. “Bastian?”

  Without turning, he glanced at me.

  “I … um … do the two of you have plans for tomorrow night? I thought maybe we could make s’mores. Drink some wine.”

  “That sounds ten times better than hitting a club like he’ll want. I’m in.”

  “Good. I’ll see you later then?”

  His smile brightened the sun’s rays and warmed me through. “Count on it.”

  Bastian

  I suffered through an evening at a dance club with women different than Zane’s two friends from the night before. More than once, I had to brush off a roaming set of feminine fingers trying to explore my arms and pecs. All I could think of was Eve and how she’d looked in those cut-off jeans and green tank top.

  Couldn’t really blame Zane for strutting across the street like a confident jock strap to introduce himself. After he’d woken up from his nap, I told him all about Eve, including my obsession with her.

  Zane had laughed over the invite for s’mores, but agreed to go. He’d also promised to behave lest I kick his ass.

  I caught his eye in the flickering strobe lights. Although a woman sprawled over his lap and whispered in his ear, Zane peered at me across our booth, gaze narrowed. At my grimace, he pushed the woman to arm’s length, cupped her cheek, and leaned in to talk to her over the thumping music.

  With a pout in my direction, the girl untangled her limbs from Zane, grabbed her girlfriend’s hands off me, and pulled her out of the booth. They walked away without a backward glance.

  Zane scooted to the bench’s end and hollered across the table. “Want to get out of here?”

  I pushed aside my tonic and leaned toward him, raising my voice. “Where do you want to go next?”

  “Let’s grab a six-pack and head home.”

  My stomach finally relaxed. “Sounds good to me.”

  Top down, we cruised south out of the city, the warm night air swirling around us.

  “You’re good and truly fucked over her, aren’t ya?” Zane’s words lacked the usual teasing tone, and I glanced at him. His face was serious, his eyes thoughtful for the second time in two days.

  I turned my attention to the road. “Good and truly.”

  “She’s into you, you know.”

  “You think?”

  “Shit.” Zane chuckled. “If a woman looked at me the way her eyes devoured you this morning, I’d have granted her access to my cock right there in the driveway.”

  “You’re one sick bastard.”

  “Yep. And proud of it.”

  “Are you really?”

  “What? Proud of being a sick bastard?”

  “Yes.” Silence hovered for a few minutes while I waited for Zane’s cocky comeback.

  “I used to be.”

  His quiet confession whipped my focus to him. “Finally growing up?”

  He shrugged. It was the first time I’d seen my brother less than confident. “There’s this girl.”

  I swallowed back threatening laughter. “And?”

  “She’s a good girl. The type who marries a preacher boy. Untouchable.”

  “Unattainable?”

  “Haven’t really tried. She’s too innocent and pure for me.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “She’s got goodie-two-shoes-virgin written all over her, while my bi, crazy-ass sex life…” He exhaled a loud breath. “If anyone could straighten me out and tame my wild ways, she’d be the one.”

  “You want her to?”

  He shrugged again. “The thought is interesting to fantasize over, but to go so vanilla for life.” A shiver wracked his body. “Not sure I have it in me.”

  I wanted to laugh my ass off, to tease the hell out of Zane, but I knew what being on the receiving end of that felt like. “Don’t know what to say, but best of luck if you decide she’s the one.”

  He reached over and slapped my shoulder. “Thanks, kid. And good luck with Eve, although you really don’t need it.”

  “What I need is for her to see me differently from every other guy who’s tried to get into her pants.”

  “You said s’mores tomorrow night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Leave it to me.”

  My body tensed. “Leave what to you?”

  “Show her you’re a better man than most.”

  “Aw hell, Zane. I don’t know if I should get choked up or prepare myself to break your nose.”

  His head tipped back as laughter burst out. “Hands off, remember? I promised.”

  Eve

  All day long, jitters plagued me. I scrubbed the house from top to bottom, carried out two kitchen chairs to sit beside my lone Adirondack by the fire pit, and put the makings for s’mores on a tray by the back door. Zane would come with Bastian, adding to my nervousness, but I’d decided to ignore his presence since he’d be gone in a couple of days.

  While trying to read a book to pass the time, I daydreamed of a hard body and blue eyes. I took a long bath and imagined Bastian’s hands on me, until panting, I gave in and offered myself relief with a few strokes across my clit.

  I donned tight yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt and chewed on my lower lip as anxiety ruined the thought of eating something for dinner.

  Purple and pink streaked
across the sky, and I went out back to start the fire. My fingers shook, and my teepee of kindling toppled twice before I could light the wad of paper inside its base. Giving up, I squirted lighter fluid over the sticks, and with one flare of a match, a merry fire crackled.

  Chuckling and male voices reached me in the darkening twilight. I hurried to the side gate, my pulse thrumming. “Out here, boys.”

  The Risso brothers rounded the house, but my focus landed on Bastian and refused to budge. He wore jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, tight enough to tempt my eyes and hands. His white teeth gleamed in the falling night as he smiled.

  Good God, he was hot as sin, and my thoughts were going to send me straight to hell. Finding no words, I swung the gate open. Bastian handed me a bottle of wine, and still tongue-tied, I motioned them into my back yard.

  “You should see this place in the daytime, Zane,” Bastian said, leading his brother through the winding path that led to my fire pit. “Eve grows most of her own food. She shares, too.”

  “Shares?” Zane’s tone—and the suggestive glance over his shoulder at me—had anxiety clawing at my stomach. While not downright disgusting or fear inducing, his obvious meaning didn’t appeal to me. At all.

  Bastian strode on as though he hadn’t heard his brother. “Her tomato plants are well over seven feet, and they’re loaded with fruit.” He chuckled. “Mom would be so jealous. And the peaches? Damn.”

  “Nothing better than a juicy peach.” Zane’s comment earned a glare from Bastian as they settled into the chairs by the fire.

  My face hotter than hell, I trotted up the back steps to open the wine and grab glasses. Given the chance, I expected Zane would gladly satisfy a willing woman and walk away with no desire for her number. I’d yet to hear such blatant, sexual innuendos out of Bastian’s mouth, and the thought warmed me. Tempted me to dream.

  “Dangerous ground, Eve.” My whispered words re-knotted my stomach, and I splashed wine on the countertop while pouring. Determined not let Zane or thoughts of his brother bother me, I returned outside.

  An hour passed, and Zane behaved … for the most part. A few snide remarks about women in general got my hackles up, but also made me further consider Bastian’s intent in pursuing a friendship with me. If that was all he intended.

  Obvious energy sizzled between us. Every time our eyes met, my body thrummed, priming itself with desire. No matter how much I inwardly chided myself, I couldn’t help but want.

  I gorged on a third s’more, needing chocolate in the worst way. The night was still early when we demolished Bastian’s wine and my last bottle of Moscato.

  Zane sprawled in his chair, ankles crossed, hands clasped behind his head—showing off his biceps. “Why don’t you be a good brother and go grab us a couple of beers outta your fridge?”

  Bastian stared across the fire at Zane, long enough I shifted on my seat. “Why don’t you go grab it yourself?”

  “Cuz I want to ravage your lovely neighbor.” Zane chuckled. “Christ, kid, don’t you trust me?” Silence settled again for a few heartbeats.

  Bastian stood. “Actually, I do.” He walked down the path toward the side gate, and my eyes followed him until he passed from sight.

  “He’s a good man.” Zane’s words whipped my head around. “A bit of a brooder, but a damn good man.”

  I snapped my jaw shut and stared at him.

  “He came down here to find himself, you know. Wanted to get out from beneath the family and breathe.” Zane leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Find whatever it is he needs to feel complete.”

  Unsure how to reply to such personal information, I glanced down and picked imaginary lint off my pants.

  “He’s a lost soul looking for fulfillment in life.”

  “Aren’t we all?” I managed to whisper.

  Zane burst into what sounded to me like forced laughter, and he sat back again. “I know exactly who and what I am. Damn happy with myself, too.”

  He stared into the fire, his smile fading.

  “Liar.” His stare notched my heartrate up a beat, but I wasn’t done. “Your eyes are like an open book into your soul.”

  Bastian must have sprinted because the gate squeaked open. Hurried footsteps brought him closer, and he glanced from me to Zane, and back again. I smiled, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “Damn it.” Zane’s voice sounded strained as he held out his hand for a beer. “Didn’t even give me enough time to get out of my seat to seduce her.”

  A wry grin, and Bastian tossed a bottle to his brother.

  Bastian

  “You need to show her how beautiful she is, and you’re in,” Zane said, tapping his plane ticket on his thigh.

  I turned onto the exit ramp for the airport and glanced over at him in my passenger seat. “Any ideas how to do it?”

  “Well, she doesn’t seem the type to realize it by pursuit alone. Not sure what words you’ll need.”

  “Me neither.”

  Zane pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. “If she’s really what you want, it’s going to take time and dedication.”

  “Something I’ve got plenty of—if Papa doesn’t demand I return north.” I pulled into the drop off lane and put the car in park. “I’m intrigued and obsessed with her. Too soon to tell if it’s forever, but that’s the route I’m shooting for if all goes well.”

  “You’ll think of something. The two of you together looks right, like pieces of a two-piece puzzle.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Zane leaned across the console and hugged me tight. “Good luck, brother. Not that you need it.”

  Surprised to find myself saddened by Zane’s leaving, I lingered as he disappeared through the airport’s sliding glass doors. With a heave of breath, I pulled away, my mind turning to the long week ahead. At least Friday’s date with Eve shone like a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

  * * * *

  For the first time, Papa’s Friday weekly conference call and questions didn’t bother me. He rambled on about my sister Lia and her husband, Ryan Walsh, buying a house a few blocks from them, and how thrilled he and Mom were.

  A self-made millionaire, and all-around great guy, Ryan had weaseled his way onto Papa’s good side with no difficulty, and got awarded a blessing in proposing a mere six months after his first date with Lia. He was a good match—for my baby sister and the family.

  My mind turned to Eve. While Mom would never turn away someone her children decided to spend their life with, Papa might be disappointed. He expected perfection. Good genes to carry on the Risso name.

  Sure, Cole ran off to Vegas with a wild-child raised by a blunt-toking hippie, but Gwen wasn’t disfigured in any way. Simply creative and independent.

  The distance between me and my family was a good thing, I reminded myself while turning onto my street. Grandma taught me my way around a kitchen, so I didn’t even miss home cooked meals. Sure, I missed my family a bit, but not the Wednesday dinners where Zane and Papa always ended up hollering at each other.

  A sound of disgust rose in my throat, and I let it out while parking the car in my driveway. Although he told me about the tempting goodie two shoes girl, I doubted Zane would ever get his act together. I pitied Mom for doubtless having to hear Papa bitch about him every night.

  Pushing aside thoughts of the life behind me, I threw on jeans and a long-sleeve shirt against the slight chill, and made my way up Eve’s flower-lined walkway. The setting sun cast long shadows across her driveway and green lawn. Trying to steady my nerves, I pulled in a lungful of country air and grinned.

  Could life get any better?

  My dream from the night before slammed into the forefront of my mind as I walked across the street. Face buried between Eve’s thighs, I had lapped and sucked on her sensitive skin until she cried out my name.

  Yeah. Life could get a whole lot better.

  I stepped up onto Eve’s stoop and adjusted the growing bulge in my jeans. Trying to talk it
down, I knocked. Perhaps letting her know the truth of my intentions would help things along. Then again, maybe she feared intimacy. What if kissing wasn’t pleasurable for her? Did it hurt?

  Similar questions halted the second Eve pulled open her door.

  She wore tight leggings and a long shirt that barely brushed the tops of her thighs. Her hair was pulled up, exposing her neck, and a smile lifted her glossed lips.

  “You look amazing.”

  Cheeks flushing, she motioned me in, her gaze flicking away. “Thanks. Hope you’re hungry.”

  If only she knew how much. “Starving. Brought a bottle of red and white since I didn’t know what you were making.”

  “Rosemary Lemon Chicken.” Eve sashayed into the kitchen, my gaze glued to her ass as I followed close on her heels. “But you can open them both.”

  I did as told and slid onto a chair the second I could. “Your hair looks great that way.”

  She cast a sidelong glance at me, a smile playing on her lips as she lifted a lid on a small pot atop the stove. “Thanks. I don’t normally wear it up unless I’m hiking.”

  “You ought to wear it that way more often.”

  Her smile faded, but I didn’t probe as to why. I expected she liked having a shield to hide her scar behind.

  “Never looked forward to a Friday so much in my life.” I sipped my wine as she fiddled with two pot holders.

  “Bad week at work?”

  “Not bad.” I grinned as she shifted on her feet while inspecting a stain on one mitt. “Just long. How was yours?”

  She cast another quick glance at me, put down the hot pads, and picked up the kitchen timer off her counter. “Same as yours. Supper’ll be ready in two minutes. Want to take our wine to the table? I’ll dish up the corn.”

  Although she seemed uncomfortable with her sidelong glances and inability to remain still, Eve opened up more about her personal life over dinner. I kept my questions to myself, simply encouraging her to continue whenever she grew silent.

  I tried not to watch her mouth while she spoke, but I couldn’t help myself. Longing to hold her and see if she fit against me as perfectly as I expected plagued me all through dinner. I wanted to kiss her. Satisfy my craving for a simple taste.