“I’m as sure as I can be. Investing isn’t an exact science, but I’ve got the capital to play with. I’ve looked at your holdings and the projections for spring, and I agree with you. Next year is going to be great. You just need a little help to get over the hump.”

Cullen looked away for a second, the tension seeming to roll out of him in a wave as he blew out a breath. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. It’s . . . it’s everything, Smith. You’re the best friend a guy could have. There’s no one better.”

The words felt like nails being hammered into my chest, one by one. If I was such a good friend, I wouldn’t be imagining your baby sister straddling my lap, or with something a lot bigger than her thumb in her mouth.

But I kept my thoughts to myself because I was going to beat this thing. Not the over-aroused fucker in my pants. Although, depending on what Evie showed up wearing, I might have to beat that too.

No, I was going to beat this attraction to her. Wrestle it to the ground, put it in an arm hold, and make it my bitch.

And nothing was going to stop me. Not even sexy, curvy-hipped, Evie.

Chapter Three

I had the entire evening planned out to perfection, and my strategy was indestructible. I’d spent the past two hours showering, shaving, and blow-drying. My hair fell in soft waves down my back, and my makeup was subtle but skillfully applied.

I wanted to look flawless tonight. And not because I was vain, but because I’d worked so hard to get here. Losing the extra twenty pounds I’d always carried and growing my self-confidence in the process, I was finally ready for this moment.

This was my last hurrah before I finally let go of my crush on Smith and forced myself to grow up and move on with my life. I knew Maggie was right—of course this was a little crazy. But, damn it, this was what I wanted, and for once I was going to throw caution to the wind and just go for it.

Brushing one last coat of black mascara onto my lashes, I smiled at my reflection in the mirror.

One stupid, fumbling attempt at losing my virginity last year was the only experience under my belt. And I hadn’t even gotten off.

I just wanted to have one orgasm that wasn’t supplied by me. Was that too much to ask?

I’d been almost calculating in my planning of tonight, working out all the details in my mind. I knew Smith well enough to know that at dinner he’d drink two whiskeys, neat, and then switch to soda water with lime. I knew he’d thoroughly read the menu and ask about the specials, but he’d ultimately order the steak, medium, and a potato with sour cream but no butter.

After dinner when we all parted ways, my brother would step off the elevator to go to his room on the ninth floor while Smith and I rode up together to mine. Then I’d ask him if he would mind walking me to my room. It would seem an innocent enough request, and a normal thing to do for a woman traveling alone, right? Then when we’re standing at the door, I’d invite him in. Being the polite gentleman he was, he’d accept, and then we’d have another cocktail and talk, and things would progress naturally from there.

I smiled at my reflection again. It was go time.

Only when I got downstairs to the hotel restaurant for dinner—nothing was like what I’d planned. Yes, my brother and Smith were here already, but rather than being seated at a table in the dining room, they were at the bar with glasses of wine in front of them.

Wine? Since when had Smith ever drank wine?

And even more concerning than the wine were the two busty blow-up Barbies practically in their laps.

Swallowing a sudden wave of nerves at the first sight of Smith I’d had in over a year, I took a deep breath.

His broad shoulders tugged at the material of his suit jacket, his long, powerful legs were stretched out before him, and his chiseled jaw was in need of a good shave. His hair was a bit longer then I remembered on top. Something to grab onto. I smiled.

When I got closer, I could see the woman standing beside Smith had her hand curled around his bicep. She was sipping a drink, flirting . . . encroaching on my territory.

What the hell? This wasn’t a scenario I’d planned for.

Pulling a deep breath in my lungs, I stopped between my brother and Smith.

“Gentlemen,” I purred, my gaze finding Smith’s and then dropping away in a way I hoped was sexy. Then again, I’d spent far too much time reading the sex tips in Cosmo magazine but no time actually practicing them, so it was entirely possible I looked like a cross-eyed, sex-starved weirdo.

“Evie,” Smith’s deep voice boomed, his smile blossoming into something full and genuine.

His hazel eyes locked on mine, and I felt a shiver race down my spine.

“Hi, Smith,” I said, my voice shaky.

“Hey, sis. You finally made it.” Cullen rose to his feet and gave me a brotherly one-armed hug. “This is Francesca and Giada. They’re here for the fashion show.”

Of course they were models. It was the universe’s cruel joke at my expense. Standing next to the two of them, I suddenly felt that twenty pounds I’d worked so hard to lose should have been forty.

“Join us. Would you like a cocktail?” Smith asked. “Or a glass of wine?” When I squinted at him, he shrugged. “When in Rome.” Then he raised his glass to his perfectly plump, full lips and took a long swallow, the thick column of his throat working.

Signaling the bartender, I ordered the strongest thing I could think of. “A martini, please.”

He nodded and scurried off to grab the bottles that would give me the liquid courage I needed.