The dog uncurled off Daisy’s lap, padding across the bed and resting its little feet on Lincoln’s thigh, begging for attention.

“Hey Ki,” he said, pronouncing it like key, as he stroked a big hand over the dog’s fur. “Keeping our houseguest company?”

The dog barked in response, a high-pitched little yip that might have been cute had it not been for Daisy’s aching head.

She took a sip of the coffee. A little less sweet than she usually liked it, but strong and delicious. Daisy took another sip, not quite able to bring herself to look at him.

So, um, did we…have sex?

How did one phrase that?

She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question out loud. If they had and she didn’t remember, they’d both be mortified.

If they hadn’t, the question was presumptuous.

Good Lord this was awkward.

Lincoln held out a hand, waiting until she glanced up. He held something out to her, but she couldn’t see what it was. Frowning in confusion, she opened her palm, then let out a little laugh as he dropped two white pills into it.

“Thought you might need these,” he said in amusement as he picked up a previously unnoticed water glass off the nightstand and handed it to her.

She swallowed the pills gratefully. “Do I even want to know how much I had to drink?”

“About as much as I did.”

“And yet, here you are all showered and dressed whereas I seem to be barely functioning and wearing your underwear.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t unkind. “Give it a sec. The pills and caffeine will do wonders. Are you queasy-hungover, or would breakfast help?”

Kiwi wagged her little tail furiously, an enthusiastic yes please on the breakfast.

Daisy contemplated. “I wouldn’t mind something to absorb the booze. But I can hit up Starbucks on my way back to my hotel. I suppose I’ll have to wear my dress,” she said with a wince.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he said, going to the closet. “I mean, you’re welcome to borrow something, but I’m guessing you don’t wear a men’s large.”

Lincoln opened the closet door and pulled out her pink dress.

“I hung it up!” she said in surprise.

He lifted a teasing eyebrow.

“Or you hung it up,” she amended, fresh embarrassment running anew.

“If it makes you feel better, I turned my back while you stripteased your way out of it.”

Daisy let out a horrified laugh. “I did not.”

“I can’t say for sure, what with my back turned and all, but there was quite a bit of humming of what seemed to be Britney Spears.”

Daisy groaned into the coffee. “If this mug were bigger, I’d try to drown myself.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Wallflower,” he said, laying the dress across the foot of the bed, “I slept on the couch.”

“Before or after we…”

“After we did not,” he said with a wink.

She sighed in relief, although she’d already been almost certain they hadn’t slept together. The details of last night might be hazy, but she was pretty sure no amount of alcohol would wipe out the experience of a night spent between the sheets with Lincoln Mathis.

Not that she was planning to find out.

“I can’t offer you clothes, but I found a brand-new toothbrush under the sink. I left it on the counter.”

“Right,” she said, taking the hint and pushing the covers back, swinging her legs over the side of the bed while draining the rest of her coffee. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get out of your hair.”

He gave her an apologetic smile as he scooped up the tiny dog in his hand. “Normally I’d be a better hangover host, but I confess there’s somewhere I need to be today.”

“Oh gosh, don’t explain. You gave me a place to sleep off some very poor choices, and offered up a coffee and toothbrush. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. Although, it is highly telling that you have extra toothbrushes lying around,” she said playfully.

“A toothbrush. Singular. You act like I buy them in bulk.”

She searched his face, looking for clues as to whether she’d been wrong about last night’s assumption that he didn’t sleep with half as many women as people guessed. But his face was an unreadable mask.

He was different this morning, she realized. His quips not as quick, his smile less dazzling.

“Well then,” she said, picking up her dress to head toward the bathroom. “I promise to tell Emma that you’re nothing but a gentleman.”

Speaking of Emma…

Daisy plucked her cell off the nightstand as she walked into the bathroom. Before the details had gone hazy, she’d texted her sister, making sure it was okay she’d ditched.

She hadn’t been expecting a response, because, well, wedding night, but Daisy had a text waiting for her, sent by Emma an hour before. Daisy shook her head. She hoped like hell her twin had merely gotten up to go pee or get a glass of water and wasn’t actually up at six A.M. the morning after her wedding.

Emma’s text made Daisy wince.

Don’t mind in the least that you left early, but tell me I heard the rumors wrong that you left with Lincoln?

Daisy opened the packaging on the toothbrush, squeezed on some of the Crest that Lincoln had left out, and brushed her teeth as she contemplated how best to respond to Emma.

Was she wrong in her assumption last night that Lincoln wasn’t the womanizer he pretended to be?