I sign the paperwork and slide it across Jaxon’s desk, tossing down his pen. “That all? I have somewhere to be.”
After two days of radio silence, I’m itching to set eyes on my wife.
He sets his glasses down, leaning back in his chair. “Hot date with the wifey?”
“Something like that.”
Despite her impulsiveness in Vegas, Angelina’s usually a creature of habit. It’s Tuesday, which means, as long as she hasn’t been called out to an emergency, she’ll be having lunch at Rosie’s Diner.
Jaxon chuckles. “I know that look. You’re so fucked, man.”
“Are we done here?”
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
I get in my truck and gun it down the back roads into town, white-knuckling the steering wheel. She hasn’t been responding to my texts, and I’m not up for a repeat ghosting. Not this time.
I pull onto the side street near the restaurant. Maybe I’ll just circle the block. Once I see her, I’ll feel better about the whole thing.
Fat fucking chance of that happening. One glimpse will never be enough.
Tourist season is in full swing with the blossom festival on the horizon, and the streets are full of passersby. At least I won't be subjected to the bachelor auction this year.
When I spot Angie’s work van parked across from the diner, my heart leaps.
I could eat. At least then I’ll have an excuse to be here.
I pull up to the curb and park behind the familiar navy blue truck belonging to my former best friend.
Every one of my nerve endings is on high alert as I hop out of my truck and slam the door shut. Angie’s already inside the diner, standing toe to toe with Tyler. He has a few inches on her, but she’s holding her own. I smirk and lean back against my truck, watching the spectacle through the windows.
I’ve never seen her so angry. She jabs her finger against his chest, and he holds his hands up and says something that only seems to make her more pissed off.
She clearly doesn’t need my help handing him his ass, but Jaxon once told me I’m like a coach for bad decisions, and I’m always on the winning team. Maybe it’s time I step up to the plate.
I walk through the door with single-minded focus. Without an ounce of hesitation, I stride over and pull Angie into my arms. “Sorry, I’m late. Had to sign some paperwork for Jax.”
Before she can respond, I cup her cheek and kiss her like we’ve been doing this forever. I expect her to push me away, but she does the opposite. She grabs my shirt and practically melts into the kiss. Her tongue tangles with mine as she takes control, bending me to her will. I let her because she’s a goddamn queen, and I am but a humble servant. She tastes like spearmint gum and bad decisions.
Tyler clears his throat, breaking us out of the moment.
I slide my arm around Angie’s waist, holding her against me. If the kiss wasn’t enough of a claim, the way she leans into me oughta do it. “Ty. How was your honeymoon?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but I cut him off.
“Oh. You know what. I forgot. I don’t give a fuck.”
Tyler shakes his head indignantly, and I don’t miss the subtle clenching of his fists. “My best friend and my girl. I didn’t wanna believe it.”
“Oh, come on. You know I don’t do anything half-assed. Unlike you, I know how to commit.” I squeeze Angie’s hip. “In case it wasn’t clear, she’s notyourgirl anymore, and I’m sure as shit not your friend.”
Angie lays her hand over my heart, looking up at me through thick lashes. There’s a rebellious glint in her eyes that tells me she’s about to do something wicked. Her hand trails slowly down my chest, stopping above my belt buckle. “I’m suddenly hungry for something else. Why don’t we take our lunch to go?”
Jesus Christ.
Don’t get hard. Think of something else. Anything else.
Circus clowns, sewer rats, horse shit. That’ll do it.
