It took about three seconds for Dylan to wish he’d never brought those cupcakes into the apartment. Because if he’d been aware of the way Claire ate cupcakes? He would have thrown them right into the trash.
He hated that he was incapable of tearing his gaze from her mouth. But damn, she looked so f**king sexy nibbling on that chocolate cupcake.
“Wow, your friend Shelby really knows how to bake,” she said with a little moan. “These are to die for.”
When her tongue darted out to lick the pink icing, Dylan’s dick hardened and pressed against the zipper of his khaki shorts. Fortunately, his T-shirt was long enough that it covered his crotch. But there was no concealing the lust in his eyes, and when he shifted his gaze to Aidan, he saw that same rush of heat reflected back at him. That same flicker of interest that Dylan had seen so many times before, usually right before Aidan suggested to a woman that they all go back to his place.
The eye contact caused an unspoken conversation to pass between them.
“I want her naked, Dylan.”
“Not gonna happen, bro.”
“Jesus, but look how sexy she is.”
“Tough shit.”
“Um, what’s with the death-match stare down?”
Claire’s voice interrupted the silent debate, and Dylan declared himself the winner when he saw the resignation settle over Aidan’s handsome face.
“Just a football rivalry look we like to flash each other every few minutes,” Dylan lied. Then he took a swig of beer and pretended that everything was A-okay.
Clearing his throat, Aidan turned to Claire. “So you and your dad watched football together, huh?”
“Every Sunday,” she confirmed. “It was his only vice.”
“Watching sports is a vice?”
“Dad disapproves of the way organized sports go hand-in-hand with gambling.”
“Is he very religious?” There was no judgment in Aidan’s question, just interest.
“Not at all, if you can believe that.” Claire sighed. “He’s a strange man, my dad. Very by the book, and all about right and wrong. His moral code is impossible to meet, and he has the most archaic ideas about gender roles and how people ought to behave.”
Dylan had been trying to focus on the game, but he unwittingly found himself shifting his attention to their conversation.
“Sounds like an oppressive environment to grow up in,” Aidan remarked.
“It was, at times. I always had to maintain this good-girl image around him, but if I’m being honest, I think he knew I was a lot wilder than I let on.” She laughed. “When I was in high school I used to sneak out all the time to meet my boyfriend, and even though my dad never said a word about it, I’m pretty sure he knew. Oh, and I’m convinced he grew wise to the fact that I was stealing his vodka and watering down what was left in the bottle.”
Aidan laughed, and Dylan couldn’t help but join in. He got the feeling stealing your folks’ booze and replacing it with a liquid of the same color was a rite of passage or some shit.
“Well, if he never called you out on any of that, he must not be as strict as you claim,” Aidan teased.
“Oh, trust me, he’s strict. I think he let it slide, though, because as wild as I could get, I was also the most focused kid on the planet. I knew I wanted to go to business school, and I worked my ass off to get the grades for it.” She shrugged. “This probably sounds ridiculously arrogant, but I’m one of those people who can drink herself stupid or stay out all night partying and still manage to ace every test.”
“So I’m guessing your father is really upset about what happened yesterday.”
“He is, but not because the wedding didn’t happen. He’s furious with Chris for breaking my heart, and he didn’t believe me when I told him that canceling the wedding might have been for the best.”
“What about your mother? Did you speak to her about it today?” Dylan instantly kicked himself for joining the conversation so readily, especially when he glimpsed Aidan’s pleased look.
“Yeah, I did. I told her how a part of me is relieved we didn’t go through with it, and then I recruited her to convince my dad of it. The last thing I want is my father tracking down Chris and giving him a talking to.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s Dad’s equivalent of a beating. He just talks to you in a very low voice for several hours.”
Aidan looked incredibly amused. “Sounds fun.”
“Oh, sure, tons of fun.”
An uneasy feeling filled Dylan’s stomach as he listened to the two of them chatting and laughing together. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to understand what his older brother had seen in this woman. She was smart, funny, beautiful, charming. On the surface, she was the complete package.
However, he’d endured too many of her snooty remarks and judgmental opinions to buy her Miss-Cute-and-Lovable act.
“What did he say to you?”
Dylan frowned when he realized Claire was talking to him. “What did who say to me?”
“Chris.” Her voice was soft now, lacking humor. “When he told you he didn’t want to marry me, what was his reason?”
“I already told you. He said you weren’t right for each other.”
“I’m sure he said more than that.”
Dylan hesitated, taking a moment to decide how much loyalty he owed to his brother at this point, if any. He and Chris had been close when they were kids, but over the years they’d drifted apart. These days, his brother felt like a complete stranger to him. Hell, Chris hadn’t even contacted him since he’d taken off to Aruba, except to send a quick text letting Dylan know he’d landed safely.