Rather than argue, Dylan just nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Now stop pacing and c’mere, honey.”
She inhaled deeply and willed herself to calm down. Chris might be an ass, but she refused to let him affect her this way. She wasn’t normally an angry person, and she hated this awful feeling of rage constricting her chest.
This time she slid into Dylan’s lap, exhaling in a slow rush as his arms came around her.
“What should we tell Chris?”
Dylan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, your mom knows that you brought me back to San Diego, so he’s going to find out I stayed here. And I’m a terrible liar, so if he asks me what you and I did, my stupid cheeks will reveal the truth.”
Both men laughed. “She’s got a point, bro,” Aidan said from the other couch.
“I don’t plan on telling him that I slept with you,” she told Dylan, “but if he suspects something and calls me on it, I don’t think I can lie.”
“You don’t have to lie. If it comes out, it comes out. Chris is a big boy. He might not like that we’re dating, but he’ll get over it.”
She blinked. “We’re dating?”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Of course we are.”
Confused, she slowly turned to Aidan. “Are we dating too?”
Those adorable dimples made an appearance. “Of course we are.”
“Oh.”
She was still trying to wrap her head around that when Dylan grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “What, did you think you were here as our live-in sex slave?”
“Well, no, but…”
“This is more than sex, Claire.” His vivid green eyes shone with sincerity. “Don’t you get that?”
Emotion clogged her throat, then damn near suffocated her when she glanced at Aidan and glimpsed the earnest intensity in his eyes.
“It’s more than sex,” Aidan echoed huskily. “Much, much more.”
“You sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Dylan opened Claire’s door for her, then got into the driver’s seat.
“No, this is something I need to do alone,” she answered, but her tone lacked any and all enthusiasm.
He pulled out of the rental agency parking lot and merged into traffic. It was just past eleven in the morning, a bright, sunny day that didn’t match his cloudy mood. He was anxious about seeing his mom, anxious about Claire seeing Chris. If there’d been a way to avoid either confrontation, Dylan would have jumped on it.
They didn’t say much as he navigated the city’s never-ending hills and twisty turns. The sun was so bright Dylan popped his shades on, then chuckled when he saw Claire’s pink cheeks.
She sighed happily. “You look so damn hot in those Aviators.”
“Yeah? Well, you look so damn hot in anything.” He winked at her. “And in nothing at all.”
He thought she looked especially cute today in her faded blue jeans and white V-neck sweater. Her hair was up in a messy twist, there wasn’t a drop of makeup on her face, and she wore no jewelry except for the plain silver watch around one delicate wrist. He loved that about her, how she didn’t put an obscene amount of time or effort into her appearance. She didn’t need to—her understated, fresh-faced look only made her all the more beautiful.
“Hey, I just realized, your ears aren’t pierced,” he said.
“I know. I always wanted to get it done, but my dad wouldn’t let me,” she admitted. “And then when I got older, I just forgot about it.”
“You still planning on seeing your folks after you talk to Chris?”
“Of course. My mom would murder me if I came to the city and didn’t visit them.”
Dylan stopped at a red light and reached over to rest his hand on her thigh. She smiled at the physical contact and placed her small palm over his knuckles.
“So then I’ll pick you up from their house later?” he asked.
“Sounds like a plan.” With her free hand, she grabbed her phone from her green canvas purse and checked the screen. “No further texts from Chris. I assume he’s meeting me at the apartment at noon like we arranged yesterday.”
Dylan tensed. Rather than calling, Chris had contacted the woman he’d left at the altar via text message last night, asking her to meet. Claire hadn’t told his brother she’d spent the last month in San Diego, but Dylan knew that tidbit would come out today when the two of them spoke.
Again, he couldn’t muster up much guilt over the situation. He knew Chris wouldn’t be happy when he discovered Claire and Dylan were involved, but after everything his brother had done, Dylan didn’t have any sympathy for the guy.
“I’m going to pack another bag when I’m there,” she went on. “I didn’t bring any work clothes with me for the honeymoon.” She paused, bit her lip. “I guess I should pack up my other things too, figure out with Chris who gets what when it comes to furniture and dishes and all that stuff.”
Dylan wondered if Chris would want to keep the apartment. Probably. He remembered his brother raving about how prestigious the location was and how one of the other associates lived in the same building.
For a moment he felt angry on Claire’s behalf—because really, Chris should be the one moving out—but then he let it go. If Claire kept the apartment, that meant she’d be staying in San Francisco, and that was the last thing Dylan wanted. He was praying this three-week extension they’d gotten would lead to an even longer stay on Claire’s part, but he was hesitant to raise the issue. He knew how much Claire loved her job, and he could never ask her to give it up for him and Aidan.