Page 44 of The Sweetest Return

Probably.

Most of my attention had already moved past her.

I could feel time dragging now. Ten minutes had become fifteen. Fifteen felt disrespectful. I checked the door again, caught myself doing it, and turned back toward Milan before Malcolm could look over and start smiling.

Patience.

Let the play develop.

If Imani was coming, she would come.

And if she didn’t⁠—

A laugh moved through the room.

My body knew it before my mind caught up.

I turned.

There she was.

For one second, everything in me stopped acting right.

Royal-purple silk. Braids down the middle of her back. Gold at her ears. Diamonds at her wrist. Deep-brown skin catching the light with a soft shimmer that made her look expensive before I even got to the jewelry.

Imani had always known how to walk into a room and make the room understand.

My gaze moved before I could stop it. The dress hugged her waist, then fell over the swell of her hips, ass, and thighs in a way that made my hand tighten at my side.

My body reacted fast.

Hard.

Eight years apparently hadn’t taught my dick patience worth a damn.

Milan was still talking beside me.

I didn’t hear a word.

There was the opening.

Every instinct I had told me to move.

The younger version of me probably would have. Straight across the room before I knew what I wanted to say, trusting want to carry the rest.

I was thirty now.

I had learned what happened when a man confused urgency with readiness.

So I stayed where I was for another few seconds.

Let Imani greet somebody. Watched Camille lean toward her. Watched a man I didn’t recognize hug her and made my jaw lock before common sense reminded me people were allowed to know my ex-girlfriend.

Malcolm appeared beside me again.

“Oh, shit.”

“Don’t.”