As I disentangled myself and stood, he gave my happy dick a light squeeze that nearly doubled me over, then winked and kissed me again before I could straighten up.
“Fuck,” I mumbled, then chuckled as I backed away and scrubbed my hands over my face. I ducked down and scooped up my hat. I would’ve thought this would be frustrating—and the dull, needy throb in my cock was that, sure—but the way he scalded me with a hot look let me know that this would continue later, and that was everything.
Fuckingeverything.
It made me wish I’d been braver sooner, but maybe this was exactly what was meant to be. I crossed my arms and cocked my head when he glared around at the empty cans of paint. This was his third canvas, and he’d already killed a few.
“What?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Need to go back to the store.” His brilliant smile was a beautiful arrow through the heart. “Re-up the stock. Forgot how much paint it takes.”
I was nodding as my phone vibrated in my pocket, which was interesting considering I was still hard, and I snatched it out with a wince that had Will laughing all over again. I took one look at the name on the screen and my good mood dove. Jake would never call me when I wasn’t there unless it was serious.
“Yep.” I paced away as I answered.
“Our booking system. Is. Fucking with me.”
Yeah, no greeting meant things were good and screwed. I growled. “What’s happening?”
The weary sigh that assaulted my ear said more than a string of swear words. “The website is on the fritz, and I can’t get in touch with anyone who can fix it, so now it’s your problem. Faye might be able to fix it, but she won’t be in until later, and I have someone herenowwho wants to pay for a slot.”
I huffed out a breath. “I got it. I can log in from my laptop here. Give me a few.”
“You good?” Will asked as I ended the call.
“Yeah, just shit for the shop. You know, never ends.” I grinned at him.
He stood up and used his sexy, paint-splattered hands to drag me close for another kiss that sucked me in and didn’t let me go. My phone started to vibrate again—and I realized ten minutes had gone by.
Paybacks were a bitch. I rubbed my palm firmly over his trapped wood and winked. “Absence makes the cock grow harder. I have to fix this. Jake will kill me if he loses a commission because I was fucking my boyfriend.” I waggled my eyebrows, and Will gave me a final hard kiss that had me moaning before I literally threw myself out of his grip.
With a clock ticking in my head, I rushed into the house to grab my laptop from my room, then powered it up at the kitchen table. Customers would get put off by the dumbest shit, and I should’ve hurried inside, but oh well.
It turned out there was no quick troubleshooting, and I ended up going down the quagmire of an AI chat from hell, unable to figure out how to speak to a real live actual person. As my anger bubbled up and became rage, I yelled wordlessly at the laptop. Threatening it didn’t do much good, though. Vaguely, I heard Will’s motorcycle start and leave—he’d said something about paint, though, and I was engaged in a life-and-death battle with the stupid fucking “help” feature on the website I used to book clients. It didn’t take long for me to start fantasizing about pulling my business from there and going with someone who had a fucking phone number to call.
An hour later, I was able to text Jake and let him know he was good to go because I’d just figured out the issue without anyone else’s help. As I sat back at the table and glanced around,I frowned as my attention landed on the clock on the wall next to the fridge.
I’d been at this for a while. I hopped up and went out to the garage, but it was a tomb. No sounds of new spray paint. No Will.
Nothing had been added to the canvas he was working on.
I tried to call Will but got nothing, and it took less than no time for panic to set in.Will in a hospital room. Will not talking. Will opening his eyes and being confused. The terror that he might never remember me.
The sound of his bike scraping pavement.
“He wasn’t in a fucking accident. Stop it,” I said, slapping my palm to the side of my head and knocking my hat loose. My heart was sprinting, so I slapped my chest next. My hand shook as I resettled my hat and hopped into our truck. There was only one route that made sense to go to the art store, so I would just drive it. Maybe he had a flat. Hell, maybe he was just bullshitting with someone in the parking lot. Maybe he’d wandered over to the Ink Well to talk to Jake.
Five minutes in, I spotted Will alongside the road in the neighborhood beside ours where the houses were slightly nicer. A cop car had its lights flashing and a tow truck had Will’s motorcycle on the flat bed.
“Fuck,” I snarled and pulled in behind the cop.
“What’s going on?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard above the traffic that rushed past.
The cop spun toward me. I had never seen him before in my life, but he seemed nice enough. A young guy with soft brown eyes and friendly smile. I got an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, but he didn’t seem to have that hard edge that the assholes who’d tossed me in a trunk did.
“This fuckface is stealing my bike!” Will waved a hand at the cop, which wasn’t a great idea. I almost bolted over to him and forced his hand down.
The cop turned toward us with a sympathetic expression slapped on his baby face that made Will snort louder than a bull. “You were swerving when I pulled you over, sir.”
