“You’re unbelievable. Now get outside.”

“Bossy,” he said, but he strode off toward the hallway.

“And put something on over that shirt. That thing is practically see-through.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I especially regretted them when I saw how Dean turned in slow motion to look over his shoulder at me, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Par-don?” He asked in a terrible impression of a French accent. “Is my doting girlfriend jealous at the thought of another woman seeing through my shirt? Are you the possessive type, Pearl?”

“Forget it. Go out there naked for all I care.” I couldn’t look at him. I was staring at my feet, wishing I’d learned to just keep my mouth shut for once.

Dean tugged a dark blue sweater from his bag and slid it on. When he reached up to put his arms through the sleeves, his shirt rode up to show me two sharp lines leading at a diagonal toward the prize–like a freaking runway to trouble. I would’ve hopped on that plane and rode to my own doom if I had to look at those lines of muscle for much longer.

For about the millionth time, I had to force my eyes away from him.

He opened my suitcase and started fishing through my clothes.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I took a half step toward him but felt far safer if I didn’t get too close, even if he was rummaging through my stuff.

“Picking something out for you to wear,” he said.

“Don’t do that. I have underwear in there!”

He lifted up a skimpy little pink thong, holding it between us. “Yes you do,” he pursed his lips, nodding in approval as he set that aside on the table.

“You’re not picking out my underwear.”

“I’m simply making a suggestion. It’s up to you if you want to take it. Oh, yeah. This would be sexy as hell on you.” He held up a forest green dress. It was a little thing, tight, and frustratingly one of my favorites.

“Yeah,” he said, holding it toward me and nodding again. “Put your hair up with this. You’ll make everybody stare.” As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he tossed the dress next to the pink panties and headed out into the hallway. “Let me know when I’m allowed back in. I need to finish getting cleaned up, too.”

I watched him go, then studied the panties and dress on the table. I would’ve never admitted it–not even under threat of torture–but something about him picking out my dress and underwear was making me hot all over. I knew I should toss them back in the suitcase and pick something else out. Something totally different.

I knew I should, but…

I chewed the corner of my lip and took a step toward the clothes.

9

DEAN

Pearl opened the door to our room, just letting a sliver of light show through. She didn’t say a word, but I heard her bare feet padding away from the door. I let myself in and saw she was wearing the green dress and putting her hair up, just like I’d suggested. She glanced at me, and that little moment of eye contact might have been the sexiest thing I’d seen all week.