The place was well-decorated, homey, welcoming. It fit her perfectly.

Sierra kicked off her shoes and left them next to the kitchen island, emitting a little moan of relief that had his dick taking notice.

“Something to drink?” she offered as she padded toward the refrigerator. “I need water, but I’ve also got beer, wine, vodka…”

“Water’s good.” Cole had skipped alcohol altogether tonight. He’d needed all his faculties to navigate the formal affair—and his attraction. Plus, he still had to drive across town to his apartment, which was in a neighborhood that was a far cry from the trendiness of Hale Street.

Sierra took out two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with ice cubes and water from the dispenser on the fridge on the far side of the kitchen. He joined her, took the glass from her when she offered it, did his best to ignore the flare of heat when their fingers brushed.

They both took a long drink, then he leaned against the cabinet next to the fridge and let himself really breathe for the first time in hours, now that they were away from the hordes of people.

When she’d emptied her glass, she stuck it back under the dispenser and refilled it. The hem of her long dress pooled on the floor now that she’d removed her heels. He roved his eyes upward to the band that cinched around her middle, just under her breasts, and he couldn’t help noticing how delicate she seemed. He knew firsthand the extent of her physical strength—she could hold her own on almost anything with the men, big men, on her crew. Her bare arms were firm and muscular but didn’t take away from her femininity. The single strap that held the dress up showed off a lot more flesh than he was treated to at work, and he decided on the spot that those were the sexiest shoulders he’d ever seen in the thirty-two years he’d been alive. Distinctly feminine, with curves and dips in all the right places and smooth, soft-looking skin that made him want to run his lips over every inch. Her necklace was nestled just below the hollow of her throat, verging into the valley between her palm-sized breasts.

Cole’s mouth went dry, and he sucked in another full breath and forced his mind to baseball stats. Cardinals, of course.

“So,” Sierra said as she faced him fully again.

“So,” he repeated, then cleared his throat because his lust-coated voice barely came out. So much for baseball.

She stood close, near enough he could catch her scent again, facing him, and she reached out and grasped his forearm. Even through the two layers of clothing, he could feel the burn of contact. “I know that wasn’t really your thing tonight, and that makes me appreciate it double. So thank you, Cole, so much.”