“You really didn’t read that paperwork, did you?” he says with a laugh.
My mouth still moves with no sound coming out, and another booming laugh comes out of him, before he tucks me into his side, folding me into him.
“The name was already perfect.” It’s as close as I’ve heard to a whisper from this larger-than-life man of mine.
I might not always be good with words, but I can show him what this means to me with more than that. Clawing at his neck, I yank him down until his mouth meets mine.
I let my actions speak for me, claiming him in front of the entire town, thanking him for preserving my dream and stepping up to live it with me, all in one.
I don’t stop telling him what he means to me until whoops from familiar voices startle me into separating from him.
The entire back of house staff and front of house staff have all assembled in front of the window display, and they clap as we break apart, lips swollen, eyes glossy.
“Finally!” Wanda says, with a discreet fist pump.
“I was starting to think she’d draw blood before admit she was into you,” Charlie adds, nodding his head as his mustache twitches.
I scowl at him, but Wilder speaks up. “She might still draw blood, but I like her claws.”
He pulls me tighter into his side as our staff laugh and cheer, and I burrow into the safety of him, even while vowing to make him pay later.
Wilder’s chest rumbles against my face as he speaks again. “You guys ready for what’s next?”
“What’s that?” Tracy asks.
“Whatever this lady says,” Wilder answers, jostling me forward, with his hands on my shoulders from behind. “She’s the boss.”
THIRTY
WILDER
Three weeks later
Spending the one day a week the restaurant is closed at Heights Bites isn’t unusual for me. Especially not since becoming a co-owner of the place.
It’s the quietest time for Lexi and I to get together and plan the week, go over the specials, and the boring shit like operational issues. It’s also proven to be the best time to relive a few of our first hookups.
Mixing business and pleasure has become a winning recipe for us both.
But this blindfold over my eyes is a first.
She has me seated in the dining room, hands in my lap, eyes covered, as she gets out my “surprise.”
My imagination needed no time at all to run wild withthosepossibilities.
I’ve settled on the most likely one. Her curves, covered in something sweet and sticky. Sprawled out on a table for me to clean.
Not a bad Monday, if you ask me.
“Okay, Chef,” she purrs in that throaty tone of hers. “Are you ready?”
“Never not ready for you,bella,” I answer truthfully.
A slight breeze tickles my face, and then her fingers are working the knot on my bandana, removing it as my blindfold.
Every part of me is ready for whatever this surprise is, hands ready to pounce, tongue ready to strike. But she isn’t naked. There’s no food in sight.
Instead, Lexi steps out from behind me, to one side of the table, a nervous look on her face, like she’s waiting.
