Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(28)

Margot rolled her lips together. “I don’t know.”

Olivia’s heart stalled, then sank.

“It’s not like we aren’t living together. I mean, hell, you’ve gotten acquainted with my, uh, my sex toy collection. I have some friends who can’t say the same.” Margot’s lips quirked and, whew, okay, joking. Relief flooded Olivia’s veins.

She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and laughed. “This is true. Although”—her lips twitched—“acquainted is kind of an overstatement.”

And if they were going to discuss qualifiers of intimacy, there was the fact they’d slept together.

Margot’s teeth scraped against the swell of her bottom lip, her brows rising. Her flush had yet to fade. If anything, it had deepened, turning her dark pink from her hairline all the way down to where her soft-looking sweater met equally soft-looking skin. “Fair. I guess collection might be a bit of an overstatement, too.” The front of her throat jerked when she swallowed. “You’ve only seen one.”

God. Okay. It wasn’t like that was an invitation. Even if Olivia wished it were—no. She had no business going there, down that path. She’d been down it before, and look where it had gotten her. She’d literally just thought about how she’d regretted the complicated aftermath of their coupling, the consequences. “True.”

Margot smiled, all dark eyes and flushed cheeks, and Olivia tried to ignore the throb between her thighs, how everything south of her navel was suddenly hot and ached.

“So.” Olivia blinked hard and pasted on a cheery smile. “Friends?”

“Sure.” The left corner of Margot’s mouth tipped up in a smirk, erasing Olivia’s efforts at ignoring the ache between her legs. “Friends.”





Chapter Eight





What Wedding Cake Flavor Are You Based on Your Zodiac Sign?

Aries—Peanut Butter Cup

Taurus—Dulce de Leche

Gemini—Marble

Cancer—Lemon Poppyseed

Leo—Red Velvet

Virgo—French Vanilla Bean

Libra—Pink Champagne

Scorpio—Coffee Cream

Sagittarius—Tiramisu

Capricorn—Carrot Cake

Aquarius—Coconut

Pisces—Funfetti





The Sweet Spot, a perfectly innocent bakery with a very naughty name—or maybe Margot just had a dirty mind—usually closed at six, but had been willing to accommodate Brendon and Annie’s schedules, staying open late for their cake tasting.

A sampling of petit fours had been presented on pedestal stands, five of each of the six flavors Brendon and Annie had selected for tasting, flavors ranging from a traditional vanilla to lavender honey. Margot picked at the ultra-thick, sugary-sweet fondant covering a coconut—gag—mini cake and stared surreptitiously across the table while Olivia went to town on her pink champagne petit four.

A fleck of edible gold leaf clung to the center of Olivia’s bottom lip. Her tongue darted out, only managing to nudge the shiny fleck closer to the corner of her mouth. Olivia either thought it was gone or hadn’t realized it was there in the first place, because she scooped up another forkful of cake, bringing it to her lips. Her mouth closed around the fork, and her lashes fluttered softly against the smooth skin beneath her eyes. The tines of her fork made a gradual reappearance and a soft hum of contentment slipped from her lips as she chewed slowly, savoring the bite. Eyes open but lids low, Olivia lifted the fork back to her lips, lapping at the frosting that clung to the space between the tines.

A breathy groan filled the air, more desperate than satisfied.

Four curious sets of eyes locked on her.

Motherfucker, she had made that noise, all pleading and pornographic and—ugh. The tips of Margot’s ears burned so badly she feared they would pop right off like little turkey timers signaling she was well past done. She coughed, as if doing that could possibly pass that groan off as . . . congestion and not a desire to get up close and reacquainted with Olivia’s tongue.

She shivered. Nope. Bad Margot.

“Mar?” The corners of Brendon’s eyes crinkled with concern. “You feeling all right?”

“Mm, yep.” She reached out, knuckles knocking into her glass of ice water, skin slipping against the condensation. A drop of water slipped down the back of her hand and circled her wrist as she took a long drink, studiously avoiding looking anywhere near Olivia. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Annie frowned. “You’re looking kind of flushed.”

Christ on a cracker, couldn’t a girl be horny in peace?

“It is a little warm in here,” Darcy said, earning herself top billing on Margot’s list of favorite people. “I think they’ve got the heat set a touch too high.”

Darcy’s eyes darted from Margot to Olivia and back to Margot, a dimple forming at the corner of her mouth when she smirked. That was, without a doubt, a look to file away for closer inspection later.

“So.” Brendon set his napkin beside his plate, eyes focused on her. “What do you think, or do you not care?”

“I care,” Margot blurted. “I totally care.”

Brendon’s face twisted, half frown, half smile, one hundred percent amused. “Okay . . . so, thoughts?”