Page 123 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

My breath stalls.

Without breaking eye contact, he licks the drop from my skin.

The touch is brief, but the pulse of awareness it sends through me is not. I’m tender and more than a little tired. So why am I suddenly desperate for their touch and possession? “We have napkins,” I tell him.

“And?”

“Civilized people use them.”

Lucian adds some of the ominous red salsa to his taco. “You married the wrong men if civilization was important to you.”

I level my gaze on him. “I had no input, if you recall.”

“An oversight we are delighted to live with.”

Lucian takes a bite, and Caleb watches.

Several seconds later, Lucian reaches for his drink. “Varnish.”

Caleb grins.

I haven’t seen this side of their relationship before either. And I kind of like this easier going version of them.

For a while, we simply eat, and nothing about the meal is elegant. Salsa drips onto paper baskets, the metal table wobbles whenever one of us leans on it, and the fan makes a horrible screeching sound when it reaches the far-right side.

Wrinkling my nose, I gather the courage to try the Queen of Hearts.

It’s cold and tart, not nearly as sweet as the color suggests, with a bright, almost citrusy bite that makes me immediately take another sip.

“And?” Caleb asks.

“I’m glad you ordered it.”

“You’re saying I was right. Again?”

Just then, the Elvis impersonator begins serenading the newlyweds beneath the neon heart while completely different music continues to pour from the speaker, and I start laughing all over again.

The whole experience is ridiculous.

And yet, sitting beneath a faded awning eating tacos with two billionaires who are shockingly at home here, I’m happier than I’ve been in months.

My gaze returns to Caleb.

Rosa ordered him around, insulted his clothes, touched his face, and treated him as if being rich and dangerous were the least interesting things about him.

And he let her.

“Do you miss Vegas?”

His gaze meets mine.

“Parts of it.”

“This part?”

He glances toward Rosa, the taco stand, the flickering neon heart.

“Yeah.”