He scrapes his bottom lip with his teeth. “Don’t be. Honestly, I like the way you look at me.”

Before I can turn that statement inside out and upside down, our guests amp up the volume yet again, as if they’re providing the soundtrack for Anitta’s next hit, and it’s a banger:

Não para, amor.

Isso! Isso! Isso!

Assim mesmo, isso.

“Can you understand them?” Dean asks, his sleepy eyes alight with mischief. “They must know we can hear what’s going on.”

“Bits and pieces,” I say, making a so-so gesture. “They’re enjoying it, if that helps.”

He smiles as he stretches, the hem of his T-shirt lifting so I can see a dusting of hair on his toned belly. “You don’t need to understand Portuguese to figure that out.”

When he drops his arms, we grin at each other like goofballs.

“I’m going to use the bathroom, then get some coffee going. Any specific instructions for making your super-special brew?”

I jump up and bend at the waist—not because I’m actually interested in stretching but because it’s an effective way to hide my morning nipples. “You don’t have to do that. You’re doing me a favor. I can take care of my cousins while they’re here. Just do what you need to do to get yourself off to work.”

“There’s no rush,” he says nonchalantly as he rummages through his dresser. “I’ll get there when I get there.”

That’s a phrase I never expected to hear from him. Naturally, I resist the temptation to presume his lack of urgency has anything to do with me. “You must be a clone. What have you done with the real Dean?”

He puts up a finger. “Hold that thought.” Then he disappears inside the bathroom. When he returns—in jeans and with only morning and afternoon wood this time—his hair is freshly combed.

“It’s all yours,” he says, gesturing behind him. “Going to make the coffee and check in with the office.” He taps me on the nose. “And if you must know, I’m not in a rush to leave because I want to spend more time with you.”

The flutter in my belly is hunger. I’m sure of it. But then we brush against each other as we stride in different directions, and another flutter zips through me. I can’t even lie to myself anymore. The extent of my attraction to Dean is threatening to break me. Good thing my cousins are visiting. No telling what would happen without them here as a buffer.

After freshening up and throwing on one of my favorite T-shirt dresses, I join Dean out in the kitchen.

He silently hands me a steaming cup of coffee and rests his elbows on the kitchen island, waiting for my reaction to his efforts.