Chapter 8

The moment Carter saw Lucy step out of her room wearing an emerald cocktail dress that hugged her body, he knew he’d made a huge mistake.

When he didn’t say anything, Lucy shuffled her feet. “Something wrong?”

He was tempted to tell her to go back into her room and find something else to wear. Preferably a burlap sack, because dammit, she was too sexy for her own good, wearing a dress like that. That dress could tempt the pope to forsake his vows. The green fabric left little to the imagination, and the sweetheart neckline put the lovely curves of her breasts and shoulders on display.

The dress hit right above the knee, but it certainly showed enough of her legs to tempt a saint. And Carter was no saint to begin with.

And neither is Hayden Masterson.

Scowling inwardly, he finally said, “Let’s go, before we’re late for our reservation.”

When they were seated inside the restaurant—a quaint little Italian place that overlooked the water—Carter felt like he’d gotten a hold of himself