“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 my fingers, galloping toward the orgasm that is banging at the door of her brain.

  I stab my tongue inside of her mouth, wanting nothing more than to be tasting her cunt, sucking her juices straight from the well. Silently, I urge her on. Baby, come for me. Fuck my fingers until you come. Ride me. Use me. Fuck me.

  Behind the denim, my cock strains for release. He wants to be where my fingers are. He wants to be wet with her honeyed liquid. Blood pounds in my ears. Yeah, reach for it. It’s right there. I’ve got you. I’m here for you. Don’t be scared, baby. This is good. It’s all good.

  She gasps loudly and breaks the seal between our mouths. “Wyatt!” she cries.

  “Yeah, baby. I got you. Just fuck my hand.” I slam my fingers inside of her, pressing the pads of my fingertips over and over that small patch as I suck on her earlobes, scraping my teeth along her arched throat. We haven’t removed her shirt, so I’m stuck with sucking her nipples through her sweater and bra, but I don’t care, and she doesn’t seem to either.

  She comes with a shout and a shudder. Her back arches and her fingernails dig into my wrist, where she clutches me in place. I keep whispering encouragement. “You’re so fucking beautiful right now. You’re an angel. Keep going, baby. Ride it. Ride it.”

  I give one last thrust and then remain still as she allows the ecstasy to crash over her, carrying her away. I brush my lips against her cheek and forehead and nose before slowly pulling out. Her juice coats my fingers and hand.

  I bring the digits to my mouth and taste her. Heaven. I can’t wait until it’s my mouth between her legs instead of my fingers. Once we’re married, I’ll be having her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  “So about the wedding. What time next Saturday?”

  Lucy makes a weird sound and scoots off the bed. “I’m going to the bathroom. Please leave before I come out.”

  I watch like a dumbass with my fingers in my mouth as she disappears inside her tiny bathroom at the end of the studio apartment. The door closes, and I jump up to my feet. At the sink, I wash off my hands before knocking on the door. “Why would I be going anywhere?”

  “Please, Wyatt, if you have any soft feelings for me, leave now,” comes the soft reply.

  My cock says no. My cock says break down the fucking door, rip off her clothes, take her up against the tile wall until she’s weak, and then just carry her to a nearby justice of the peace. But I can’t because my heart is full of soft feelings for her and she sounds broken up in there.

  “I wouldn’t have touched you if I thought you didn’t want it,” I say quietly.

  “I know.”

  Tension spreads across my shoulders. I hate this. “I’m leaving. Take care of yourself, Lucy Loo.”

  She doesn’t reply, not even to the cutesy nickname that usually elicits a punch in the shoulder or a groan of dismay. There’s only silence on the other side of the wall.

  With the scent of her still on my fingers, I show myself out of the studio apartment. In the hallway, I lean against the wall and replay the scene that took place inside. I kissed her first, but she kissed me back. I stuck my hand up her dress and shoved my fingers up her drenched cunt, and she let me. She rode my hand as I finger-fucked her. She was there with me every step. I have the fingernail indents on my wrist to prove it. Yet...she’s now locked herself in her bathroom, and she won’t say more than a couple words to me. She’s already regretting the intimacy. Tomorrow she’s probably going to send me another list.

  I drag a heavy hand down my face. What the hell am I going to do?

  Chapter Eight

  Lucy

  Normally getting lost in my work takes my mind off the rest of the world. Unfortunately, it’s not working this time. This night can’t come to an end soon enough for me. The only thing I want to do is go home and wallow in my feelings. I’d been pissy with Wyatt about giving me the cold shoulder for a few days, and now I am doing the same thing to him.

  “We're short a bartender,” Meghan says with a look of panic on her face.

  “It’s a Wednesday night. It’s fine. Pull one off the main bar to work on the smaller one or ask one of the servers if they have bar experience so we can have them step in if need be.” Crap. I probably just jinxed us.

  “Right.” She spins around, taking off to do as I say. I walk around the space, making sure everything is as it should be. It’s only a cocktail party in celebration of an engagement. It’s a small, intimate event, but I still want to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.

  It seems as though there have been more engagements booked than usual lately. It’s a constant reminder of what’s going on with Wyatt. I try to push those thoughts to the back of my mind, but I know they won’t stay there for long. It’s always that way when it comes to him.

  My biggest fear is the day I see Wyatt’s name on one of these invitations. I don’t even know how I’ll deal with that. Before the other night I had settled on him being with someone else. That was before he gave me the best orgasm of my life. Now that I’ve had a taste of him, I know that I’ll never be able to see him marry another woman.

  I know it’s only a matter of time before his uncle forces his hand. And when he does he’ll want to go all out. I don’t blame Wyatt for wanting to take over the firm. His uncle is going to end up getting the business in trouble. He really can live up to the dirty old man name.

  Soon the party starts to grow, and I step off to the side, watching to make sure everything runs smoothly. I pull out my phone, checking my messages.

  Wyatt: I miss you.

  I miss him too. Wyatt has become such an interconnected part of my life over the past two years. I tell him almost everything. Sure, I have other friends here and there, but none are like Wyatt. He’s truly my best friend. I can’t ignore him forever.

  Isn’t my fear of us getting married that it could ruin us? If I stop talking to him, that would do that to us too. Another text vibrates in my hand.

  Wyatt: You look stunning tonight.

  I jerk my head up. My eyes go straight to Wyatt, easily finding him. He’s leaning up against the bar, smiling at me. That is until Serena Willian snags his attention, pretending to fix his tie. She’d be on the list.

  My stomach rolls, and my eyes burn. I know there are a few of the others that are on the list here tonight too. This is what I wanted, I remind myself. That was before the other night. The way he kissed me and touched me felt like so much more than two friends kissing. It was the kiss I tried to get that drunken night when he shot me down. The one that had closed the door on my hopes of having something more than friendship with him.

  I turn away, unable to watch. Everything is going off without a hitch, which should make me happy but now there is nothing to keep me busy. Did he bring her here or did he come because he knew I’d be here? It’s not as though I can ask him without sounding jealous. I hate this. None of this is ever going to work. We’re a sinking ship no matter which way you spin this.

  Needing to get away for a moment to compose myself, I slip into the back hallway, making my way toward the staff bathroom. Right before the door closes behind me, a hand reaches out and stops it. Wyatt steps in.

  “You’re not hiding in a bathroom from me this time.” There is a warning in his tone. One I’ve never heard before.

  “Not hiding. I needed to use the bathroom.” I raise my chin, hating that I just lied to him. He walks toward me, allowing the door to fall closed behind him. He doesn’t stop until I’m pressed against the wall.

  “You’re not going to run from us. You’re important to me, Lucy Loo. The most important person in my world.” I feel the same about him. His eyes drop to my mouth.

  “You’re important to me too, Wyatt. That’s why I don’t want to ruin this,” I admit.

  “So your plan is to stop talking to me? Isn't that ruining us?” He’s right. I’ve already thought that myself. I decide to change the subject.

  “I see you’re using the list I gave you.” I just can’t help myself. Who am I to be jealous? I went on a date. He gives me a confused look. “Serena Willian?”

  “I have no idea who that is. I came here to talk to you.”

  “I’m working.”

  “I know but this won’t take me long. I have a new deal. We get married on paper. Move in together.” I open and close my mouth, not sure what to say to that. “You love my place.” I do, but more than anything, I love him.

  “I…”

  “Don’t answer now. Think about it.” He leans down and kisses me until I’m breathless.

  “That’s not on paper.”

  “We’ll have to kiss to be believable.” He smirks. “Practicing.” He drops one more quick kiss on my mouth before he’s back out the door.

  This could be the perfect answer to everything. It could also blow up in our faces. If I want this friendship, I have to fight for it. Wyatt was there for me when I lost my mom. It’s my turn to be there for him.

  Chapter Nine

  Wyatt

  “Here.” I slam down a paper in front of Uncle Cristoff.

  He makes a big show of putting on his glasses, slowly lifting the paper, and perusing the contents so carefully you’d think he was inspecting his own premarital contract. Finally, after what seems like an eon has passed, he allows the legal document to fall to the desk. “A marriage license, eh?”

  “Yes. Call the board meeting,” I order. I’m tired of this game we’ve been playing.

  Uncle Cristoff leans backward and folds his fingers over his stomach. “It took you less than a week to close this deal. I’m impressed. I guess that means you really didn’t want to marry before this.”

  I narrow my eyes. I don’t like what I’m hearing. Worse, Lucy wouldn’t appreciate this remark. It makes it seem like I’ve been dicking around for years when I’ve actually been waiting impatiently for Lucy to decide that friendship sucks and we should be making sweet, wonderful love every night in the king size bed she picked out for me. “That’s not what it means.”

  I want all my affairs in order so I can run through the financial health of this firm, find someone to delegate all the managerial stuff, and whittle down my caseload. I’m going to be a husband and hopefully a father soon, which means I can’t be living here at the firm like I have been. Maybe the shower en suite should be turned into a nursery.

  Uncle Cristoff nods as if he knows something. “I hear you, son. My lips are sealed. We don’t want the bride thinking she was unwanted.”

  “Great. Glad we are on the same page. I’ll see you Sunday morning for the emergency board meeting.” I bang out of the office. “Take two hours off,” I tell the secretary.

  “He wants to look at my legs again?” Rose is incredulous. “I wore pants.” She sticks her leg out from behind the desk.

  “Nah, I just feel like you need extra R&R because you work for Cristoff.”

  “When you said you were taking over soon—”

  “Monday morning,” I call over my shoulder. Time to put the rest of my plan in gear.

  Back at my desk, I start issuing directives. “Ernest, call the leasing office and tell them to take the fourth floor off the market. Lucy’s firm is moving in.”

  “Really? When did that happen?”

  “Just now. And get me Meredith Terinni on the phone, will you?”

  “Lucy’s boss?”

  Ernest is so efficient that by the time I reach my desk, Terinni has been patched through. “I have a proposition for you, Meredith.”

  “I’m all ears,” she coos.

  “Great. I—” Ernest buzzes me. “Hold on for a sec.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Lucy is on the phone,” Ernest says.

  “Thanks, man.” I switch over to Meredith. “It’s a deal that can only be offered in person. Let’s meet at 5 pm at The Daily Drip.”

  “You’re asking me to meet you at a coffee shop to discuss a deal that could change the course of my business?” Meredith repeats in disbelief.

  “We can meet at Prime instead, but I didn’t take you to be a big red meat eater.”

  “How about Nicollette’s at seven?” There’s a slight purr in her throat which sets my teeth on edge, but I don’t have time to argue. I have Lucy on the other line. “Sure. Nicollette’s. Seven. See ya. Lucy, babe, sorry to keep you holding. What’s up?” I lean back and throw my feet up on my desk.

  “There are two men here that say they’ve been hired to move everything in my studio.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I mean, isn’t it obvious? You’re moving.”

  “When did I agree to this?”

  “Last night. You agreed to get married and move in together.”

  “After we were married, which I’m doing only so you can take over the firm.”

  Not this. I let out a huge sigh and allow my head to drop back against the seat. “Lucy, what’s the point of waiting? I already applied for the marriage license. I’m sending a doctor over to the townhouse to draw your blood, and he’ll be there in two hours. That’s how long I figured it would take for the staff to pack you up. The license will be approved on Monday, and we can be married by Judge Havlicek by the afternoon.”

  “No wedding? I’m an event planner. I do weddings sometimes, and we aren’t having a wedding?” Now she sounds pissed.

  “I mean, if you can plan a wedding by Monday afternoon, I’m all for it. You have a credit card of mine that you never use. Feel free to charge everything on it.”

  My other phone buzzes. “Hold on.” I switch over to Ernest’s line. “What now?”

  “It’s Judge Havlicek’s clerk on the phone. They can’t do Monday afternoon because he just got an emergency involuntary commitment hearing. Thursday morning is free though.”

 

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