“Oh, sorry, did you need me to ask you the same thing?” I laugh because it’s such a no-brainer. “You’re loyal as hell.” That certainty has me sliding my legs up and onto his lap. “I don’t need to grill you about any wives in your attic to know that you wouldn’t be touching me like this if you had someone.”
As if my words were the permission he needed, the tips of his fingers slide under the hem of my skirt, sending sparks shivering across my skin. His expression turns hot and intense in the same heartbeat.
“I don’t,” he says. “There’s nobody. Never has been, really. Not like this.”
God, his hand feels good on my thigh, and those sparks keep me talking.
“Same,” I tell him. “And I think you need me, Wy.”
His straight, heavy brows flick upward, so I continue.
“You’re all stern and serious, but you’re also dying for somebody you can let go with. Somebody you trust to let you fall just far enough.”
His gaze darts from my mouth to my breasts to my neck to my eyes. He looks as dazed as I feel.
“I think…”
I wet my lower lip as I wait for him to finish. “You think… ?”
“I think you’re right. I’ve been waiting for you,” he says quietly. “To fall with me and then help me back up.”
We’re both barely breathing as catches my hand and tangles his fingers with mine. And in that moment, I picture it all. Nights out like this. Even more nights at home. Lazy weekend mornings tangled in sheets and kissing at a sunny kitchen table. Me meeting his family, him meeting mine. Cooking together, laughing together, dancing together, falling into bed together. Maybe even having a couple of mini-Wyatts with my eyes or a bunch of mini-CJs with his thick hair and stubborn chin. I never gave kids a second thought until tonight, but apparently I, the woman who scoffs at the idea of settling down, am ready to buy a minivan.
The thought should send me screaming from the bar, but with Wyatt’s serious gaze on me and his fingers laced with mine, I’m hit with a wave of sheer rightness and a bone-deep certainty that he feels exactly the same.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I murmur, overwhelmed with all of this seeing and being seen. Of recognizing my other half and absorbing all the comfort and familiarity and lust and belonging that I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.
When Wyatt breathes a shaky, “I know,” all I can think is how much I want to be even closer to him. So I shift until I’m all the way on his lap. He sucks in a breath, his hips jerking upward at the contact before he settles back with a shaky laugh.
“When I take you back to my place, I want you to stay forever.” He presses his palms against the bench seat, pointedly not touching me. “But not tonight.”
“No?” I’m almost shaking with excitement and need, but I still manage a pout.
“I want to. So fucking bad.” His eyes flare as his hand slips back under my skirt, even higher than it was before. Another inch or two, and he’ll know exactly how ready I am to go home with him. How ready I am for him.
But he relaxes his grip on my legs, his throat working as he swallows. “Here’s the thing.” His voice is strained, the effort to hold himself back clear in his tense shoulders. “I don’t want to rush our first night together. Let me take you out for real first. Feed you pasta. Hold your hand at the movies. Buy you nachos at a baseball game.”
I stifle a smile. Wyatt’s holding back, but he’s also desperate for me to give him the push we’re both dying for.
“I hate liquid cheese, remember?” I wriggle deeper into his lap. “But we can do the rest of that after you take me home tonight.”
He makes a noise low in his throat as his hands move to grip my hips. “CJ…”
“I think I’ve been waiting for you too.” I press my lips against the hollow of his throat. “Please don’t make me wait another second.”
“Fuck.” His laugh is shaky, and he pulls me down until I’m so tight against him I can feel exactly how much he likes this idea.
A lot. He likes this idea a lot, if I’m going by the hot, hard erection pressing against my ass.
“You’re right,” he growls. “Let’s get started on the rest of our first night.”
Our eyes meet, and we both hear what he isn’t saying. It’s not just the rest of our first night; it’s the rest of our lives we’ll be starting when we leave this bar.
He shifts me off his lap and slides out of the booth, extending his hand to help me stand.
“The sooner the better.” I let him pull me up, loving the strength of his fingers around mine. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow morning.”
“Same.” He grimaces. “My team’s meeting to hammer out a response to an audit we were handed on Monday.”
