Page 14 of Let It Breathe (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #1)

It wasn’t enough she sat sandwiched between her shrieking cousin and Bob the Boob-man. Could she even make it across the restaurant like this?

If she were smaller busted, sure, and if this top weren’t so tight. But the bra now gaped open in the middle, with the underwire cups flung out to the sides like mutant wings at the edges of her boobs.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she folded her arms over her chest.

Shit, that made it worse. Bob’s gaze heated as her arms squashed her unleashed cleavage up around her collarbones. She unfolded her arms and looked around the table to see if anyone else noticed.

Someone kicked her under the table. Reese glanced down to see Clay’s steel-toed work boot. She looked up to see him eyeing her curiously.

You okay? he mouthed.

Reese grimaced and folded her arms over her chest again, this time trying to squash her cleavage down instead of up. Beside her, she felt Bob lean closer. She watched Clay’s eyes narrow. On her other side, Larissa squealed again.

She shook her head at Clay and looked at Larissa. Screw it, she just had to make a run for the bathroom. She unfolded her arms and nudged her cousin.

“Larissa—I need to get out,” Reese whispered.

“Give me just a sec—I’ve gotta hear how Sheila’s story ends!”

Reese started to argue but changed her mind. Did she really want to march across the restaurant with her boobs flapping in the wind and the unhooked bra making funny lumps under the too-snug shirt?

She looked back at Clay.

An image flashed through her mind, one so old she’d forgotten it was there. Beautiful, long fingers on her bra clasp, flicking it open with one hand as his lips moved down her throat and his other hand cupped her?—

Shit. Shit shit shit!

Now her nipples were hard.

Reese folded her arms again. Bob shifted beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “You cold?”

She felt Clay’s foot shift beside hers. “Here, Reese,” he said, standing up. She watched him peel off the black wool zip-up jacket he’d been wearing, revealing the snug gray T-shirt beneath. “Take my coat.”

Relief pulsed through her, sending a few gratuitous pulses to several other parts she tried not to think about. She started to stand up to grab the jacket, but Clay leaned down and placed it around her shoulders.

“Better?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

His gaze locked with hers. Bob’s gaze locked with her breasts.

Reese pulled the jacket tight around her chest and gave Larissa a shove.

“Move it—I’m going to the restroom.”

She stood and zipped the jacket, then crossed her arms over her chest and made a beeline for the other side of the room. She ducked into the narrow hallway and had her hand on the door to the ladies’ room when she heard Clay’s voice behind her.

“Here. You might need this.”

She turned to see him holding out a safety pin. She smiled and reached out to take it. “How did you?—?”

“Borrowed it from the waitress.”

“I meant, how’d you know my bra broke?”

He shrugged and leaned against the wall. “It was kinda obvious. Besides, didn’t you have something like that happen once in college?”

Reese almost gasped out loud, stunned by the memory. “Right—at that party over in McMinnville sophomore year. How the hell did you remember that?”

He grinned. “Some things stick in a guy’s mind. Can’t say I recall every drunken detail of my youth, but that image is burned into my brain.”

Reese bit her lip as she pulled the jacket tighter around her. She looked away, feigning interest in a spot on the wall. “I guess so.”

“You need any help?”

She laughed, startling a passing waitress. “Are you offering to fix my bra clasp? Don’t tell me that’s within the realm of your contractor training.”

“Sure, I’ve got my welding tools out in the truck. If you hold really still, it shouldn’t melt much skin.”

“I’m fine, but thank you. The safety pin should be enough.”

She put her hand on the ladies’ room door again, then hesitated. “Thank you, Clay. I mean it. I don’t think anyone else figured out what was going on.”

“Not even your date?”

“My date .” She spit out the word like a burnt peanut. “Eric picked me a real winner there.”

Clay studied her, quiet for a moment. “He means well.”

“That he does.” She stared into his eyes, those pools of root-beer-hued light pulling her in. “Thank you, Clay. Really, you’re a lifesaver.”

Before she could think about what she was doing, she leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

The cheek . That really was what she aimed for.

She wasn’t sure if he turned, or if some instinct drew her a few inches to the right. Her lips found his and she kissed him, part of her expecting him to draw away.

Instead, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. His lips moved against hers as she swayed and felt her shoulder bump the wall beside the restroom—surely the least romantic venue for a first kiss.

It’s not your first kiss with Clay, Reese’s subconscious whispered as her libido screamed something else entirely. Not by a long shot.

She deepened the kiss, desperate to block out the voices in her head and just feel him against her.

Clay responded, kissing her back as his heart pounded against his chest. Reese could feel it through her shirt, her bare breasts pressing against the thin fabric as Clay’s hands slid up her back and made her shiver with desire.

“Oh, pardon me!”

Reese jumped back and turned to see a startled-looking woman at the edge of the hallway.

“Whoopsie,” the woman said with a giggle. “I can come back?—”

“No, it’s okay,” Clay said, taking a step away from Reese. “We were just?—”

“Fixing my bra,” Reese supplied.

“Right,” Clay agreed.

The woman nodded, then gave them a knowing smile as she edged around them and pushed through the restroom door. “That’s how I’d do it.”