The Dom With the Perfect Brats by Leia Shaw, Cari Silverwood, Sorcha Black

stared down at her. Then the corner of his mouth twisted up. “See you Saturday.”
    “Yeah,” she said hazily. “Saturday.”
    He stalked off toward his shop and her gaze immediately went to his toned ass, framed perfectly by the dark-wash jeans.
    Oh she had it bad. Despite her reservations about the Dom stuff and basically going on a double date without the second partner, she still really liked the guy. Enough to explore things beyond her comfort zone. Though , admittedly, her comfort zone had grown wider since she’d left Sean and Chicago behind. Dating Cross wasn’t a bad way to start her new life as a New Jersey girl. Not a bad way at all.
     

Chapter 5
    Izzy
    She stared up at the steps leading to Cross’s loft apartment. The light from the top of the drive leading in shone brighter than last time. Had Cross doubled the wattage for them so they could see walking in? If he had, that was adorable in a way. Though living above the shop could have drawbacks, being across the road from the sea was a big plus in her mind. The smell of the ocean meant Australia to her, more than almost anything. For a second her chest ached.
    Izzy sucked in a breath, straightened her thigh-length shirt over her black skinny jeans then trotted up the steps to the green door. She’d ransacked her bedroom only fifteen minutes ago, looking for something somewhat acceptable for a date. Clothing wasn’t usually high on her priority list but when trying to woo at least one, maybe two partners, she had to step up her game. A shopping trip was in order and soon.
    The brass skull door knocker made her think of the Addams Family. To her relief, it was Gemma who opened the door. Cross stood a few feet behind. The black t-shirt stretched across his chest hinted at muscles. The phrase kill it under a tattooed chick with two raised six-guns screamed goth. She could handle the edgy goth ambience – it was the way he stared that made her knees wobble.
    “ Should we let her in?” Gemma grinned. She had the side of her face leaned against the door and her hands wrapped over the timber as if she were hugging it. “She didn’t even bring any beer.”
    “I ha ve beer and she looks delicious,” Cross said with a slow perusal that made her tug at her shirt self-consciously.
    “Good point.” She opened the door fully. “ Glad you’re here. Turns out the Neanderthal doesn’t know how to cook.”
    Izzy followed her inside.
    “Gemma has decided she’s the expert.” That gnarly voice of Cross’s ...damn she almost shuddered hearing it. He stepped up, bent, and pecked a kiss on her cheek as if it were routine. “She thinks I bought the wrong ingredients.”
    “He did,” Gemma whispered in her ear as she grabbed Izzy’s hand. “Come see.”
    Being slowly towed down the hallway of a strange yet awesome man’s house by a girl she admired, made Izzy feel like giggling. The euphoria was not from the prospect of cooking lasagna. Though it might have been from the way the green dress rode up the back of Gemma’s leg. The woman wore a lot of green. For a girl who claimed not to be into fashion, she sure knew how to work those emerald eyes of hers.
    Before she could stop her traitorous mouth, the compliment slipped out. “Nice dress.”
    “Huh?” Gemma stopped, saw where Izzy had glanced and shrugged. “Thanks. I don’t wear them much. I hate dresses. I just...” She shrugged again and seemed lost for a second, looking everywhere except at her or Cross.
    Hope fluttered for a moment. Was she dressing up for her? Now that would be awesome. Logic nudged her. It was probably just Cross she’d aimed for.
    “I’ll be tossing this in the back of the closet again after tonight.”
    “Why?” Cross nodded at her le gs. “I saw some interesting tattoos on your thighs the other day. Gorgeous to see those on a woman when they walk with a dress on.”
    Lips twisted, Gemma inched up the side of the dress, peeked at the sliver of tattoo that showed –