I hated how delectable Reid looked. I wasn’t sure whether I was still angry, or whether I didn’t trust him, or whether all was forgiven and I just wanted to thank him for the flowers in the best way I knew how.
The unusually strong pull of the bond didn’t help his case. Or maybe it did exactly that.
He wore a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved white button-up. His hair was doing a cute, right-sided flippy thing, and one errant curl fell across his forehead. My fingers itched to trace his chiseled jaw, to feel his stubble and to slide down his neck and over his deliciously broad shoulders.
I tried like hell not to ogle him. Not now. But he caught me staring more than once, and I could tell that he was enjoying the attention.
Of course, his enjoyment wasn’t outward. I noticed it in the
