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hungry? Have you been eating?”

“I’m fine.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. Not that he’s been checking on me. This situation is getting more uncomfortable by the second.

“Should I leave? You two clearly have something going on, and I don’t want to waste my time,” Mark says.

Wyatt laughs.

“Your time isn't worth much. Definitely not worth more than mine.” Wyatt just can’t help himself.

“We’re not a thing. In fact, Wyatt is getting married,” I toss out before I smirk over at Wyatt, thinking I won this round.

“Are we telling people? We still haven't picked a date.” His hand slips across the table until his fingers lock with mine. I don’t make any effort to loosen his hold on me. For a moment all the air leaves my lungs as I stare at him. He looks so serious. This moment feels so real, but I know better. If only he felt the same way about me that I do him.

“I’m leaving, but if you want to try this again without him, call me.” Mark stands, pulling his wallet out. He drops his card and a twenty on the table.

“What is this?” Wyatt waves him off. “Barely covers the tip. Finance.” Wyatt shakes his head.

“Sorry, Mark.”

Wyatt bursts into laughter as Mark stomps off. Great. I hope Eden doesn't kill me. Wyatt picks up the card, ripping it to pieces.

“Are you done?” I huff before stealing a bite off his plate.

“I was only getting started.” He winks at me. “He wasn't good enough for you.”

“Will you ever think anyone is good enough for me?”

“No, but you could settle with me.” I roll my eyes and steal another bite off his plate; he does the same to mine. “Look. We’re like an old married couple. Stealing each other's food. You rolling your eyes at me.”

“Where have you been the last few days?”

“See. That’s wife talk. Did you miss me?”

“You’d drop off for two days on your wife? Do you want to stay married?”

“If you were in my bed every night I’d be there.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“You have to stop saying stuff like that, Wyatt. We’re friends, and the joke is getting old.” It’s hard to keep the anger out of my voice. “Donna, can we get the check please?” I’m ready to go. I should be mad that he interrupted my date, but that’s not what I’m upset about at all.

“Yeah. I’ll bring some boxes too.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt for the first time goes quiet until we fight over the bill. I let him pay it in the end since he ruined my date. Even though he kind of saved me. I knew it was going nowhere with Mark. It would have led to a long, drawn-out dinner and an awkward walk home where he’d likely try to get an invite inside. One I definitely wasn’t going to extend.

“What are we watching tonight?” Wyatt does try and sneak in an invite up. Before I can tell him no, he lets himself right in with the key I gave him. “Damn it, Lucy. You forgot to set the alarm.”

“And you never told me where you were. You didn't text me for two days!”

“Did you miss me?” he asks again. He drops our food boxes down on the table by the front door.

“I was wondering if maybe you started on the list I gave you.” He pulls it out of his pocket, ripping it in half and letting it fall to the floor. He could easily print another.

“I told you. We’re getting married.” This time there is no smirk. He closes in on me. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“You can’t.” My words come out breathy, and my heart rate picks up in anticipation.

“Call it a test.” I lick my lips as his eyes drop to my mouth. I make no move to stop him as his mouth comes down on mine.

If I thought Wyatt had ruined me before in regards to other men, then this kiss all but seals that fate.

Chapter Seven Wyatt

This could be a mistake, but it’s the best one I’ve made in a long time. All during dinner I couldn’t stop looking at her lips and remembering that one drunken night when she kissed me. Took me by surprise—but she was drunk, so I didn’t do a damned thing but bundle her home.

She’s not drunk now, and she’s not pushing me away. Her hands have found their way around my neck, and she’s clinging to me like a vine. My cock instantly hardens. I slide my hands under her ass and lift her up so that the notch of her pussy meets my shaft. The contact pulls a groan from my chest. I need a horizontal surface immediately. Like ten minutes ago.

Her apartment is small—a studio—and the only table she has is covered with planning materials. The bed is full of samples. Fuck it. I don’t care. I cross the room and lower her onto the mattress without breaking contact. I have this sixth sense that if I stop kissing her, she’s going to come to her senses and kick me out. I can’t have that. Not until my cock is balls deep in her sweet, hot cunt.

I find the zipper of her jeans and tug it down enough to get my hand inside. I slide two fingers through her short, trimmed bush until I reach her pussy. She’s wet. Really wet. My middle finger slips inside. This pulls a moan from her.

I want to tell her that it’s going to be okay. She’s tight as fuck, but I can work with this. Instead, I just kiss her harder as I start stroking that soft channel. She trembles in my arms. She needs more. I give it to her, adding another finger and then one more. I curl my fingers toward the front of her cunt, searching for that small patch of skin with its thousands of nerve endings. Her hips move in concert with my hand until she’s riding

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