Let It Breathe by Tawna Fenske Page A

that suggested his opinion of Clay had just dropped three levels. Based on the way Bob was ogling Reese, Clay’s opinion of him had already hit rock bottom and was starting to dig lower.
    Reese reached between her breasts again and squirmed. Beside her, Larissa was having an animated conversation with Sheila. Clay had missed most of the details, but Larissa shrieked with laughter. She flailed her arm to the side, bumping Reese with her elbow. Reese flinched, and Clay watched as her eyes flew wide.
    Reese looked down the front of her shirt, joining Bob in what was apparently the preferred pastime for the evening.
    What the hell?

    Reese remembered too late why she hadn’t worn the damn black lace bra for years. As she stared down the front of her shirt where the broken front clasp had come unhooked, she wondered if there was any tactful way to remedy the situation.
    It wasn’t enough she was 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 was now gaping 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 eyes were wide now 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 had 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 was trying 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