“Can I see?”

Almost shyly, she nodded.

Brendan tucked a finger in the center of her thong’s front waistband and tugged it down, revealing that teasing little split, the nub of flesh just pushing her lips apart. He swayed forward with a growl, pressing his face to the lush flesh and inhaling deeply. “This is mine.”

Her stomach hollowed on an intake of breath. “Yes.”

“Going to spoil you with my credit card now.” He kissed the top of her slit. “Then have you sit on my face and spoil you fucking rotten with my tongue later.”

“Brendan.”

He banded his arms around her knees when they dipped, using his upper body to lean her back against the dressing room wall. When he’d made sure she was stable, he urged her without words to step into the legs, one at a time. His hands scooted the denim up her calves, knees, and thighs, his mouth leaving kisses on the disappearing skin as he went. It hurt to drag the zipper up and hide her pussy away, but he did it, swirling his tongue around her belly button while engaging the snap.

He stood, turning Piper around so she was facing the mirror. He tugged her ass back into his lap so she could feel his hard-on, making her lips puff open, her neck go limp.

Through dazed eyes, she scanned her reflection, her attention on Brendan’s hand as it traveled down her stomach, his long fingers delving into the front waistband to grip her pussy roughly, earning him a shocked whimper. “Keepers. Definitely.”

“Y-yes, we’ll get these,” she said in a rush. Brendan tightened his grip again, lifted, and she went up on her toes, her lips falling open on a gasp. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Brendan planted a kiss on the side of her neck, biting down on the spot and slowly sliding his hand out of her jeans. When she stopped swaying, he left her flushed in front of the mirror and edged out into the waiting area. “Good girl.”

“You know,” she panted through the curtain. “Shopping is more about the journey than the destination.”

He gestured to the salesgirl as she walked in. “She’ll take them all.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Piper sniffed Brendan’s neck and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Nope, it’s not the right one yet. Too citrusy.”

Brendan leaned an elbow on the glass counter, half amused, half impatient. “Piper, you’re going to run out of places to spray me.”

It was getting later in the afternoon, and after lunch downtown—during which Brendan tried his first tiramisu and liked it!—they were back at the hotel. Her boyfriend had seemed quite inclined to get her upstairs as fast as possible, but she’d dragged him into a men’s shop just off the lobby to see if they could find him a signature scent.

Was she stalling? Maybe a little.

For some reason, her nerves were popping.

Which was crazy. So they were going upstairs to get it on. They’d done that twice before, right? There was no reason for the extra race of bubbles in her bloodstream. Except a new torrent of them was set loose every time Brendan kissed her knuckles or put an arm around her shoulder. And even in the air conditioning, the skin of her neck flamed, and she found herself taking deep, deep breaths, attempting to still her sprinting heart.

If she could just focus on finding him the perfect cologne, that would give her enough time to relax. Or at least figure out why she couldn’t.

She leaned across the glass to pluck up a square, sage-colored bottle, and Brendan splayed a hand on the small of her back. Casually. But her pulse spiked like she was taking a lie detector test and being questioned about her past spending habits. Mentally shaking herself, she lifted the bottle and took a sniff. “Oh,” she whispered, smelling it again to be sure. “This is it. This is your scent.”

And maybe it was the craziest thing, but finding that elusive essence of Brendan, holding it right there in her hand and having it flood her senses . . . it dropped that final veil that had been obscuring her feelings. She was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with this man.

The change in their surroundings made it impossible not to acknowledge every little reason she gravitated toward him. His honor, his patience, his dependability and steadfast nature. How he could lead and be respected without being power hungry. His love of nature and tradition and home. The way he so delicately handled his father-in-law’s feelings even got to her.

As soon as she acknowledged the depth of her feelings, those three little words threatened to trip out of her mouth. That was the source of her nerves. Because where would that leave her? In a relationship. A permanent one. Not only with this man but with Westport.

“Piper,” Brendan said urgently. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” she responded, far too brightly. “I—I found it. It’s perfect.”

His eyebrow raise was skeptical as he turned the bottle around. “Splendid Wood?”

“See? You were made for each other.” She stared into his eyes like a lovesick puppy for several too-long seconds, before breaking the spell. “Um, we have to smell it on you, though.”

Brendan was regarding her with a puckered brow, practically confirming that her behavior was off. “You’ve already sprayed my wrists and both sides of my neck,” he said. “There’s nothing left.”

“Your chest?” She looked around the small men’s shop. The clerk was busy on the other side with another customer. “Just a quick sniff test. So we don’t waste money.” She beamed. “Oh, listen to me, Brendan! I’m practically cutting coupons here.”

Affection flashed in his face. “Be quick,” he growled, unbuttoning the top three buttons of his flannel. “I’m going to need three showers to get this stuff off.”

Piper danced in place, excited by the imminent breakthrough. This was going to be perfect. She just knew it. With an effort, she held back her squeal and released a puff of mist into Brendan’s chest hair while he held open the flannel. She leaned in, burying her nose there, inhaling the combination of the earthiness and Brendan’s salt water . . . and oh Lord, yes, she was in love all right. Her brain sighed with total contentment and joy at having captured him, found a way to breathe him in anytime she wanted. She must have stayed there in a dreamlike state, exhaling gustily, for long moments, because Brendan finally chuckled, and she opened her eyes.

“What are you thinking about down there?”

That if I’m not careful, there are going to be little sea captain babies scampering around.

And how bad did that sound, anyway?

Not bad at all. Kind of amazing, actually.

“I was thinking that I’m proud of you,” she finally answered, rebuttoning his shirt. “You tried tiramisu today. And . . . and you just plan trips to Seattle now. On a whim. You’re like a new man. And I was thinking . . .”

How she’d changed a lot, too, since coming to Westport. Since meeting Brendan. What she’d thought before was living life to the fullest had actually been living life for other people to watch. To gawk at. She wouldn’t lie to herself and pretend one month had completely cured her of her deeply rooted yen for attention. For praise. For what she’d once interpreted as love. Now, though? She was participating in her own life. Not just posing and pretending. The world was so much bigger than her, and she was really seeing it now. She was really looking.