Prologue

Caroline

The Morgans have been part of my extended family for most of my life. Auggie has been my best friend since boarding school.

“Hey there! Almost ready?” I lean against the kitchen door, watching as he finishes up the rehearsal dinner cleanup for his sister’s wedding tomorrow.

Even tired and at the end of a dinner service, he’s affable and better looking than most men.

“Yeah, I need to recheck a few spots, and then I’ll be set to drive home.” He wavers a bit, his balance off.

Rarely does Auggie drink too much. The meal he prepared was off-the-charts delicious like all the others. I’ve never eaten a bad meal he’s prepared. “No worries. I’ll drive when you’re ready.”

Auggie shakes his head and makes one more sweep around the kitchen. “Let’s go. Billie is getting married tomorrow.”

“I’m excited for her. Aren’t you?”

He hasn’t mentioned any issues with Peter. “Of course. Peter is great.” His words come out a bit overexaggerated when he describes his future brother-in-law.

“How much have you had to drink?” I’m slightly more concerned now since I’ve only seen him overindulge twice. The first time was at winter formal in boarding school when Jenny Fordham stood him up, and the second was after Billie’s accident.

“Two beers, but that isn’t the problem. I didn’t eat enough during service.”

Now his condition makes more sense. I loop my arm around his waist and escort him to the car. Leaning him against the rear door, I open the passenger door and help him settle in.

“You smell tempting, Caro. Always have,” Auggie mutters softly after I secure the seat belt.

My heart seizes in my throat. He’s drunk. He doesn’t mean that. Does he? I have wanted to take my friendship with Auggie to the next level for the last few years. The most recent time we discussed it was almost two years ago after the gala for the arts. I don’t want to ruin our friendship for anything less than everything. His position is he isn’t ready to focus on anything other than opening his dream restaurant. Tonight his words strike a nerve. Always have.

Rounding the car, I inhale deeply to calm my heart rate. The ride to Cash’s is silent in words but not actions. Auggie takes my hand in his and draws circles with his thumb across the top of my hand. That feels…. Stop, he’s your best friend. He’s had too much to drink.

After shushing Auggie, I help him upstairs to his guest suite. Unfortunately, he can’t put himself to bed. I step into his room and guide him to sit on the edge of the bed. He immediately grips my hips. His hands are… perfection. Shaking my thoughts away, I focus on at least removing his shoes and shirt. Crouching before him, I untie his shoes. As I rise, he takes my hands in his.

“Thank you, Caro. I know better than to not eat before dinner service and especially before drinking even one beer, let alone two.”

“You’re welcome.” I pull my hands out of his and unbutton his shirt. He always wears an undershirt when he’s cooking. Apparently, tonight is the exception to this rule. As I move down the column, inches of Auggie’s hard, toned chest and abs are on display before me. I haven’t seen Auggie shirtless in at least five years. Wow! My scrawny, lanky best friend has been replaced with a fit man with ridges and a V-cut at his hips. “Scoot up and I’ll cover you.” My voice is raspy and needy if I’m being honest with myself.

Auggie slides to the top of the bed and slips beneath the covers. As I adjust them, he pulls me into his arms. He brushes his lips across mine before kissing me. In all the years we’ve been friends, nothing romantic or sexual has ever happened between us. The soft press of his lips on mine is heavenly. His kiss coupled with how my hand felt in his on the ride over here, I’m in trouble.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep like we used to,” he mutters.

He knows I can’t resist his offer. I step out of my heels, tuck them under the nearby chair, and join him on the bed.

“Thank you, Caro.”

“You’re welcome.” I turn to face him so I’ll know when he falls asleep.

He pulls me closer, burying his head into the crook of my neck. I attempt to ignore the rush of feelings he’s causing. Being here in his arms is beyond everything my imagination conjured up. The heat emanating off him warms me. My brain is warring with my heart right now. The temptation before me is too much. It takes significant inner discipline not to set my hands on his bare torso.

I stare out the window to stay awake, forcing myself to push away thoughts which don’t reflect our relationship. We’re just friends. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I notice he’s sleeping. Slowly and with precise, careful movements, I slither out from his hold and tiptoe to my shoes.

“Good night, cuore mio. I love you. Always have. Always will,” Auggie murmurs as I near the door.

He feels the same way I do?

What do we do now?