Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3)(5)

And for me, a bookworm whose Saturday nights were usually spent reading bio-chem textbooks or romance novels, broom closet sex with a hot guy was a pretty erotic experience. Until that point I’d only had missionary sex in dorm room beds with two other guys, neither of whom had said anything except “uuuuuuuhhhhhhhh” the entire time. And by “the entire time,” I mean all five minutes.

But with Levi, it was different. Not that it was much slower—in fact, it may have been faster—but it was more illicit. More unexpected.

Dirtier.

Rougher.

And I’d liked it—it had shocked me how much I liked it. In fact, it was still one of my go-to fantasies when I was alone with Magik Mike.

Too bad he was married.

I cleared my throat in an effort to clear my head. “Is your wife here?”

“We aren’t together anymore.” He didn’t look or sound particularly sad about it.

“Oh.” My pulse picked up, and I sent God a silent apology for the stinkeye. “So tell me how you know Sebastian. Skylar is my sister.”

He cocked his head. “Is she? Sorry, I probably would know that if I hadn’t been so late that I missed the ceremony. I never saw a program or anything.”

“That’s OK, most people wouldn’t guess it. We don’t look much alike.” Skylar and Natalie had our mother’s blonde hair and petite, curvy body. I had our dad’s tall, thin frame and dark hair, although we all had the same blue eyes. “And we, um, might not have exchanged last names that night.”

Levi laughed, a deep throaty sound that heated up my insides. “Maybe not.”

“Jillian Nixon.” I held out my hand.

He took it. “Levi Brooks.”

I have a bit of a hand fetish and couldn’t resist glancing down at his. It was solid and strong, with long fingers, nails neatly trimmed. A thick black watch peeked out from the crisp white cuff of his dress shirt, which made my heart skip a few beats. I love a nice wristwatch on a man. There’s something so classic and masculine about it.

His grip was firm, and he gave my hand an affectionate little squeeze before letting go. “I met Sebastian at the gym a couple years ago, but I’m also his architect.”

“You’re an architect? Did you design his cabin?” I asked, impressed. “It’s beautiful!”

“Thanks.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “That was a pretty simple project, really. And Sebastian had a lot of input. He just needed someone to draw up the plans and supervise the construction.”

“I hear they’re adding on, though, right? I knew my sister wouldn’t be able to live with so little closet space.”

Levi chuckled, and I raised my eyebrows. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just…” He glanced sideways at me, a boyish grin on his face. “Closet space.”

My face warmed, and I couldn’t help smiling either. “Ah. Yes. Closet space.”

The group in front of us moved away from the bar, and Levi put a hand lightly at the small of my back as we stepped forward. It wasn’t overtly suggestive, but it sent a flutter through my belly all the same.

In fact, every part of my body felt fluttery—my heart, my hands, my knees. Even my head, which can usually find something wrong with a guy in under five minutes, wasn’t telling me no. So he had a son, so what? He was handsome and smart and funny, and I hadn’t been this attracted to someone in a long time.

So I was glad when he left his hand on my back while we ordered drinks, his thumb rubbing softly at the base of my spine.

? ? ?

We took our drinks to an unoccupied table in one shadowy corner of the winery’s stone terrace, where the ceremony had taken place hours before. Since then, the rows of chairs had been replaced by cocktail tables fashioned with giant oak barrels and round glass table tops covered with ivory linen. Party lights were strung in the trees above, and the tables held small votive candles, which flickered in the falling dark.

“Hard to believe we’ve never run into each other before,” I said, setting my glass on the table. “Have you lived in this area long?”

“About three years. Before that I was in Charlevoix. That’s where my family is.”

Impulsively, I reached over and fixed his tie, pulling the knot tighter and straightening it out. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Was it crooked?” Grimacing a little, he took over the task, and a tingle swept up my arms when his fingers closed over mine. “I was so rushed tonight. My sister was late, and then I had trouble getting out of the house. Did I even remember to put pants on?”

I laughed. “Yes, you did.” Although I wouldn’t mind if you took them off.

“Oh, good.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. “So tell me about you. I know your last name now, I know you used to like Harry Potter, and I know you’re a little clumsy when you drink champagne, but other than that, I got nothing.”

Heat rushed my face, and I giggled. “I am a little clumsy, and not just when I drink champagne. But in addition to that, I still like Harry Potter, and I’m a pediatrician.”

He cocked his head. “Are you? I always wondered if you went to med school. Back then you were planning on it.”

I smiled, pleased that he’d remembered something about me. And had he said always wondered? “Yes. I finished up my undergrad at Michigan and then went to medical school at Wayne State. I completed my residency up here and took a job in private practice about six months ago.”