One, two, three, four, five—and he breaks, dropping his focus to somewhere over my shoulder.

“Dinner, huh? Don’t manipulate me like that again. I can handle Aiden. Topher’s outside waiting for me, and I’m leaving.”

“Fine.”

He wasn’t even serious about dinner! My fists curl.

He sighs. “Giselle. If you need someone to talk to about dating . . .” The words are dragged out of him, and he grimaces, his muscular body striding to me, then halting, as if he doesn’t want to get too close. “Look, I don’t mean to butt in, but Aiden isn’t someone you should . . .” He scrubs the shadow on his jawline.

If I weren’t annoyed, I’d feel sorry for him. It’s plain as day the man doesn’t know what to do with me.

“He enjoys yanking Jack’s chain; I get it—but a girl has needs, Devon.”

His lips part. “Giselle—”

I cut him off. “Thank you for the ice pack and getting me away from Rodeo, but no more of this telling me who I can see or how I meet them. I’m a grown woman.”

“Wait a minute, now,” he says as I make a move to sweep past him. He grabs my elbow, and I shiver at the licks of fire that trace up my limb. Stupid arm. I should chop it off. Why does it like him?

“Giselle.” His eyes drop to my mouth.

The way he says my name, raspy and low, gives me pause, and my breath snags in my throat.

“I know you’re a woman . . .” He stops, seeming to search for words until he notices his hand on my arm and releases me. Then takes a full step back. A long exhalation comes from his chest. “Sorry.”

He is acting so . . . strange. First the wedding, and now this.

Nerves hit as I contemplate my next words. “When Jack said I was off limits, did he give a reason?”

“Jack is your new brother-in-law, and he’s a protective guy. He doesn’t trust us.” He pauses. “Don’t be angry at him.”

“That’s for me to decide. So he didn’t say anything else—about me personally?”

Devon’s face shutters, his demeanor stiffening. He tucks his hands in his pockets.

“Devon?”

His green eyes lower, shielding his gaze. “Look, can we talk later? I’ve had a hell of a day and need to get going.”

He’s brushing me off.

My heart hammers, unease curling as thoughts tumble through my head. I shouldn’t be embarrassed to be a virgin. Plenty of people are. I am a sexual person. I can pen a scene between a tall sexy alien warrior and his earth girl that curls my toes, but still, the thought lingers that maybe I’m—

“I’m not frigid,” I mutter.

He freezes mid hair rake. “What does that have to do with anything? I didn’t mean what I said earlier. You misinterpreted—”

“I’m a virgin!”

Every second that goes by without him saying anything, just him staring at me as if I slapped him with a two-by-four, is drenched in tension. He inhales a sharp breath. Curses. Several times.

“Everyone out!” Devon yells, pointing to the people at the back of the room. They take one look at his face, grab their drinks, and shuffle out of the room.

I watch it all with bated breath. “He told you, didn’t he?” I whisper.

“Giselle—”

“I asked you a question. Courtesy demands you answer me.” My hands clench, waiting, waiting . . .

He wipes at his mouth, then slides his hand down to rub the shadow on his chin. “Yes.”

Chapter 3

DEVON

Giselle Riley has gone off the deep end.

Ninety-nine percent of the time, the girl is straight-up prim and proper, all the way from her little topknot to her heels. Nothing ruffles her. After that asshole Preston cheated on her, she never uttered one unkind word about him. I’ve never heard her curse or seen her with her hair down.

And there it is now, tawny-gold-and-white strands shining and cascading down her back like a blonde waterfall, the ends drifting below her slim shoulders. It’s the kind of hair a man wants to wrap around his hand.

Is it any wonder I can’t stop staring?

Who is this girl?

Her cheeks are twin spots of color, her silvery-blue eyes snapping as she paces around on her bare feet. She shoves her glasses up to her head and pivots and comes back and stops in front of me. She’s breathing rapidly, and her damp shirt draws my eyes, the points of her nipples pushing through her lacy bra as her chest heaves. She’s got small tits, but enough for me to look at. I bite back a suggestion on the tip of my tongue that she put her jacket back on. At this rate, she’ll slap me.

I almost want her to. It might make me stop staring at her like an idiot.

Jack is going to flip when he knows I blabbed, but he can fuck right off. He’s on his honeymoon, and here I am doing damage control with his slightly insane family. Perfect.

“I knew it!” she calls. “You’ve been acting off, and now you think I’m even more boring and weird than you did before. I’m going to strangle him when he gets back from Hawaii!” She mimics throttling someone. “I hope a shark takes his throwing arm right off.”

Jesus.

“I never thought you were weird!” Why am I yelling? “And you’re the least boring person I know!” I toss in.

Her eyes sparkle like lightning in a storm. “Oh, I can picture it now, him in the locker room, giving you guys the lowdown, talking about poor innocent Giselle and how she’s never . . .” Her full bottom lip trembles for half a second before she sucks it in and straightens her spine. “It’s wrong. And personal.”

I hold my hands out. “It wasn’t everyone, okay? It’s just me who knows that part.”

She stops in her tracks. “Just you?”

“Only me—”

“Ah! He leaves it with you to make sure everyone falls in line. Do you always take orders from Jack?”

I groan. “He trusts me, Giselle! I’m his best friend! Aiden doesn’t know, which is why you should beware around him. If he knew the truth”—I cringe, not really quite sure what the unpredictable ass might do—“I’m sure he would stay far away.” He better. “I may need to sit him down for a serious talk.” And box his ears.

Red flames on her face. “You’d tell him? Just take out a banner in the paper, Devon; post it on Insta!” Lifting up on her toes, she gets up in my face, which doesn’t take much. She’s tall and willowy. Little puffs of angry air come from her chest. Steely eyes glare at me, and her pouty mouth purses as she pushes a finger into my chest. She smells good—not that heavy flowery stuff, but light and sweet and fresh, like after a soft rain in the spring, and how could I have missed how creamy her skin is, that peaches-and-cream color, translucent—

I shake myself as her words dawn in my thick skull.

“I’d never tell him! Good God! It’s not my place. I just meant . . .” Why can’t I say the right thing around her? She’s always made me uneasy. Too smart. Too something.

My phone goes off again, but I can’t move a muscle. It’s the crazy girl in front of me who has my attention. She pokes me in the chest again, and I grab her finger and tug her in closer.