December 8

DECEMBER 8

“It’s okay to check your phone,” he said with a knowing little grin.

I shook my head. “It’s just Mya. She said she wouldn’t give up until I told her what’s going on between us.”

And she would have to wait because I barely knew yet myself.

Wyatt chuckled.

This French restaurant could not be more romantic, from the candles and white linen tablecloths to the intimate setting and dessert menu with items meant to be shared. It was also crazy upscale, and I’d accidentally swallowed my chewing gum when I’d first seen the prices on the menu.

I had more gum for later, though. I wasn’t ending this evening without having my minty-fresh breath kissed out of me.

Either way, I didn’t need Wyatt’s clarification that this was a date. The restaurant made that abundantly clear. So I guessed we were dating—that was the correct term. And I’d tell Mya that eventually, when I could also answer whether it was more than just dating. Since she knew what type of men I was drawn to and what fetish I had.

A server appeared to take our dessert order, and we’d settled on two dishes because we did not share the same taste in sweet stuff. Because he didn’t want much sweetness to begin with! He ordered something called éclairs with a coffee- and rum-flavored-mousse filling with the darkest of chocolate, and I wanted a French vanilla sundae with brown sugar meringue and caramel sauce.

I was so full from an amazing dinner, but I couldn’t resist dessert. I hadn’t pulled out my nicest threads for anything less than two tons of sugar. But unbuttoning my vest wouldn’t hurt. I glanced around us and hoped to see loosened ties, untucked shirts, and…yeah, no. Wearing a suit just wasn’t for me, but I did own a pair of nice charcoal pants with a matching vest that were fancy enough. As long as I didn’t spill on my shirt or apparently unbutton my vest.

“How full are you, Parker?”

Yikes. Okay, he didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand I was a bit uncomfortable. I was tugging on my vest and wiping my forehead. The meat sweats weren’t a myth.

“Moderately,” I lied just a tad.

The mirth didn’t leave his eyes, but his eyebrow went up a fraction. “Is this a good hill to die on, boy?”

I swallowed. “If the hill is made of sugar, then yes.”

He coughed a chuckle and shook his head at me.

I smiled goofily. He couldn’t pretend to be stern with me yet!

Without the strict Daddy façade, he reached across the table and gathered my hands in his, and he brought them to his lips. “Sweet Parker, there are options. We can get the dessert to go.”

“But then the meringue will be soggy,” I protested.

“Not if it’s stored in a separate container. You stay here—I will go talk to the server.” He pressed a kiss to my knuckles before he stood up and left the table.

I grimaced. I wasn’t a fan of this. We’d had such a great time tonight—I didn’t want it to end because I was too full for dessert. I’d learned a lot about his family and childhood. He had two sisters and one brother, though none of them was involved in the corporation. Maybe that was why I’d thought he was an only child. But regardless, I still had questions, and if we left now—and took our desserts to go—chances were, we’d end up eating them alone. What if he just dropped me off at my apartment?

Developing a crush on a man I knew essentially nothing about had turned out to be a gamble that so far worked bizarrely well. After all, I’d only viewed him as a grumpy grinch before. Now I knew he had a lake house that he hosted family reunions at every summer. I knew he liked to golf and swim. I knew he preferred classical music and blues and that he loved to drive up the coast in an old car I’d already forgotten the name of. I knew that he missed the East Coast sometimes, especially during fall and winter.

I was peeling off layer by layer.

He was doing the same with me.

I checked the time on my phone. Almost ten PM; hot damn, we’d been here nearly two hours already. So this wasn’t entirely awesome. Ten PM was a reasonable hour to wrap up our first dinner date, and if there was one thing I was learning about Wyatt, it was his traditionalist way of dating. He didn’t strike me as the type who would suggest we move this date back to his place at this hour.

Dammit.

* * *

I was right. He was taking me home.

Tonight was the first time I got to experience him behind the wheel of his own car, a nice silver Aston Martin with a black interior, and it was easy to see he enjoyed driving. And nobody liked driving in LA… I liked it even less when he had Culver City and my address plugged into the GPS.

Why had I given it to him?

I wondered if there was a way to lure him up to my place instead. My sister’s name might be on the mailbox next to mine, but she was never there anymore. Our parents had helped us take out a loan for the condo when Nana couldn’t handle walking up the stairs any longer. So she’d left Culver City for a retirement community in Thousand Oaks where her sisters already lived. Now it was just me in the tiny two-bedroom. My sister’s room was all but empty.

The day she moved in with her boyfriend officially, I was going to buy her out. ’Cause there’d been plans to install elevators in the old building forever, which would make the condo worth a whole lot more. After that…who knew? Unlike her, I wasn’t sure I saw myself living in LA forever.

“You’re thinking about devouring your dessert as soon as you get home, aren’t you?”

Ha! For once, he was dead wrong. “Almost. I’m thinking about real estate.”

He lifted his brow but didn’t take his eyes off the road. “That’s…different. Is real estate another hobby?”

I shook my head and smiled a little. “Not specifically real estate, but I like a good investment.”

Real estate tended to be a good one.

Wyatt was still showing surprise. He hadn’t expected that from me. “I can’t wait to get to know you better, Parker. You’ve entered my life like a breath of fresh air.”

I smiled, and as the urge struck, I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He smiled back and grabbed my hand. “I very much enjoy what we’re doing. Just tell me straightaway if something is wrong—and that includes if I do something wrong. It’s been so long since I dated that I feel like I’m flying blind at times.”

I’d sort of figured that out. And to be honest, it was reassuring. Even the most polished man had to fumble in the dark every now and then.

“Can I ask what went wrong between you and your ex-husband?” I wondered. “I’ve noticed you’re very open with me, and you said something about empty promises.”

He inclined his head and checked the rearview before switching lanes. “Even before we got married, we had problems—partly because he didn’t want to leave Rome, and I had no desire to leave my family here. But we’d agreed to cut down on work so we could see each other more often. And I did. I tried to rekindle what we used to have in the beginning of our relationship…” He trailed off, and his brow furrowed. “Deep down, I suppose I always knew we weren’t a great match, but I was willing to work to get to a better place.”

He scratched his jaw, seemingly deep in thought.

Right now, I couldn’t believe I’d ever viewed him as devoid of emotion and closed off. He was a completely different person.

“After one too many missed dinner reservations, he knew I was all but done,” he went on. “At that point, I was doubting my feelings too. I’d lost the energy to fight. But Tom got paid to plead his case. By day in a courtroom, by night in our relationship—and he proposed marriage to me.”

I couldn’t help but stick out my tongue, as if Tom were here in the car with us.

Wyatt grinned faintly and threaded our fingers together. “You’re right. I am open with you, Parker. I’m hoping to avoid another failed relationship in which we try to be someone we’re not. I was never meant to be with him long-term, and he’s not meant to be with anyone long-term. And once I admitted that to myself, I filed for divorce. I was angry with him, with myself, for wasting all those years trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.”

I couldn’t imagine fighting for something for that long if it didn’t feel 100% right. At the same time, I admired any man who kept his word and did his best to uphold a vow.

“It’s better you stick with me,” I said decisively. “I just wanna make you happy and smile a lot.”

He squeezed my hand. “You’re succeeding.”

Fist pump.

Unfortunately, my own happiness took a hike when he pulled in right outside my building a few minutes later, and not even a big dessert on my lap brought any comfort. I was gonna end up eating the half-melted mess alone in bed.

Wyatt was big on chivalry and wanted to get the door for me, so while he left the car, I tried my hardest to mask the disappointment welling up. I couldn’t really explain it. I had a growing unease in the pit of my stomach, and it reminded me too much of vulnerability. I was lowering my guard and growing comfortable with Wyatt, and the end to an evening was evidently enough for me to feel a little wounded and exposed.

It was as if there were a little boy in me going, “You’re leaving me so soon?”

And I supposed, in a sense, that was exactly what was happening. That part of me had already latched on to Wyatt.

It was going to be super tough to practice patience.

The door opened, and I left his dessert on the dash before I reluctantly stepped out.

“Thank you very much for a perfect dinner, sir.” I should probably say more than this. I should be as open as he was being with me. I should confess that I didn’t want the evening to end yet. I swallowed a flurry of nerves and wondered where the hell my usual happy-go-lucky attitude and fearlessness had gone. This wasn’t normally something I hesitated to be vocal about. “Do, uh…” Christ, just say something. “Do you know when we can see each other again?”

Close enough. Maybe if I had a date or day to look forward to, it would be easier to say goodnight.

Wyatt hummed and walked a little closer to me. “Well, I’ll be at corporate tomorrow, so it’s going to be difficult to steal you away for lunch.”

Yeah, that part sucked donkey butt. I didn’t want him at corporate at all.

“Corporate stinks.” I fiddled with his tie and scowled to myself.

“I’m inclined to agree with you.” He gently grabbed the dessert bag from me and set it on the ground. Then he closed the distance between us and kissed my temple. “I have a one-hour window after four. How about I pick you up from work?”

One hour. Not even that, actually. He had to make it back too. But I’d take whatever I could. So I nodded and rested my forehead against his sternum. He smelled so damn good. And I wasn’t particularly cold, but he felt warm and comforting all the same.

“Any minute you can spare, I will take, sir.”

He sighed and inched away enough to cup my cheeks, forcing me to look up, and then he dipped down and kissed me hard. A rush of desire tore through me, and I slipped my hands up his chest and locked them around his neck.

It was as if his resolve broke. Gone was the patient gentleman, replaced by raw hunger, and it smacked a forceful wall of urgency right into me. He moved his hands to the back of my neck and angled me for a deeper kiss, and I pushed back. I did everything but climb him like a tree.

I knotted my fingers in his hair and swirled my tongue around his. I pressed myself closer and couldn’t stop all the needy little sounds from escaping me.

“I wanna see you all the time,” I admitted between kisses. It felt much easier to be honest now. “All the time, all the time, all the time.”

He cursed under his breath and cupped my cheeks again, slowing down the kiss until we were just breathing heavily with our lips touching.

“There is a way we can see each other more often,” he murmured huskily.

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat and nodded. “If you take me home with you right now.”

He let out a breathy chuckle and kissed me quickly. “I take it you’re on board.”

I nodded again, vigorously this time. “I’d drag you upstairs if my kitchen wasn’t such a mess. You’d probably make me clean it.”

I really loved how his eyes smiled.

“You might be right. Let’s go then, my sweet Parker.”

Fuck yes!