“Why the hell do they live all the way out here?” he grumbled as he turned deeper into the residential neighborhood.
“It’s Ben’s grandmother’s fault. She felt like leaving him a house was a good idea.”
When we pulled up at the freshly painted ranch, I gave my lip color one last look before climbing out of the SUV. I was in a new dress today because the one I’d picked out for this occasion was hosting quite a lot of black mold at the moment. But I loved this long, yellow sundress with tiny dots and soft, ruffled straps just as much.
My apartment was still a disaster and the landlord had no information for us other than “Not today, sweetheart.”
But I knew I looked good and I felt good. And it didn’t matter what Teddy thought about any of it because he was the human equivalent of a sinkhole and I had a four-carat diamond on my hand from my Super Bowl MVP husband.
I was doing just fine.
When I had a gift bag looped around one arm and a large tray balanced in the other, I nudged my backside against the door to close it. It didn’t shut all the way but just enough that I needed to free up a hand to do it. “Dammit,” I muttered.
“I saw that.” Ryan circled the front of the SUV and took care of the door. He glanced between me and the string of cars lining the block. “Ready?”
“Yeah, we’ll go through the—oh, not again.” I kicked my leg out from my skirt to find my lace-up sandals had unlaced themselves once more. I held out the tray toward Ryan. “Can you take this?”
He gave me a single shake of his head and crouched down in front of me. His t-shirt stretched tight across his back as he studied my shoes. It took a second but he figured out the procedure, testing each crisscross and the bow at the top twice.
Then, for no reason at all, he brought his palm to the back of my leg, right behind my knee, and skimmed it all the way up my thigh. He glanced up at me as his broad hand settled just under the curve of my ass while his fingertips drew tiny circles on my inner thigh, and he asked, “Is that what you needed?”
I managed a nod and some noise of agreement and he slowly—so slowly—trailed those fingers back down my leg and around my ankle. After another moment of nearly obscene caresses, he pushed to his feet and gave me a long, lazy kiss.
I wobbled where I stood and it had nothing to do with my shoes. Should’ve stayed in bed with him this morning. It would’ve only delayed the onset of my overthinking but at least I’d be too orgasm-drunk to get obsessive.
He took the tray from my hand, looped an arm around my shoulder, and said, “Let’s get you that revenge, wifey.”
The party spilledfrom the open-plan kitchen and family room out into the backyard. Groups congregated around the grill, the kitchen island, the patio table under the newly constructedpergola. I spotted Ben outside, pointing up at the roof with some grill tongs while talking to a guy wearing a Ladder 66 shirt. Audrey was busy slicing lime wedges near the sink while Jamie stirred a pitcher of something I prayed was her famous margarita recipe.
No one noticed us at first but then I saw the subtle chin jerks in our direction, the nudged elbows and pointed beer bottles, the gazes that landed on Ryan with a furrow followed byIs that…?
Grace rushed over when she saw us making our way through the family room. She waved us into the kitchen, tsking at the heavy bag I pressed into her hands and grumbling about how gifts weren’t necessary.
“It was Ryan’s idea so you’ll need to blame him.” I gave her a flippant shrug and took the tray from him. “Now, about the charcuterie. It didn’t come out exactly as I’d planned because someone kept sneaking up and eating my salami roses.”
“Mmm. I love having my salami rose eaten,” Jamie called.
“I’m clearly spending too much time with you because I’m not even shocked by that comment,” Audrey said, mostly to herself.
Grace surveyed the spread of cheeses, meats, crackers, and other goodies I’d put together. “It looks amazing.”
Ryan came up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and banding the other across my torso, leaving his hand splayed over the bare expanse of my chest. His fingertips slipped under the shoulder of my dress and he traced the line of my bra strap. His lips on my neck, he said, “I’ll make it up to you.”
I felt a ripple of awareness move through the house and I knew all those eyes were on us. And I knew my ex was one of them. I’d spotted his big stupid truck the second we turned down this street and I’d heard his whiny laugh float in from the backyard.
He was watching now, I was sure of it, and I hoped he felt the same sad, sinking sensation that I’d experienced outside his door that night. Not because he was being hit with the fact that I’d moved on from him or even that he’d been wrong to treat me as he had. No, he was realizing he’d never be able to watch his favorite team play again, never be able to wear his Ralston jersey—without thinking of me and my husband.
But that wasn’t why I brought my hand to the back of Ryan’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. That wasn’t why I kept it going longer than necessary or why I let my fingers scrape along his scalp until he squeezed my hiphard.
He went back to my neck, holding me tight to his solid body as he growled, as he pressed his teeth to my skin. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “What does it feel like?”
“You really want to know?”
When I tipped my chin up in challenge, he pressed his hips against my backside and—oh. I felt the hard heat of him through my dress and I blinked. Stiff and insistent andhuge. All that from one kiss?
He gripped my hip again, but this time he put a breath of space between us. “Give me a minute,” he rasped, his hand still under my bra strap. “Then I’ll make your boy regret his entire existence.”
