14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
ANGIE
I looked up from the hotel’s front desk when the bell above the door chimed, and my breath caught in my throat.
Wyatt.
God, he was so good looking. Tall, hair effortlessly tousled, piercing green eyes that held mine as he closed the space. He filled out his slacks and dress shirt in the sexiest of ways, especially with the top three buttons undone. I ran my tongue along my upper lip and tried to ignore the throbbing between my legs.
How he caused such a visceral reaction in me, I had no clue.
He leaned his forearms on the counter in front of me and sent me that smirk of his that really needed to come with a warning label. Because it was doing all kinds of things to my body that I didn’t even want it to.
“You’re back?”Oh wow. Apparently, he made me sound like an idiot too.
“I am.” He leaned in closer. “Have you eaten yet?”
I glanced down at the watch on my wrist. Was it really almost six? “No, not yet.”
“Good.” He pushed off the counter. “I’ll let Steven know we’ll be off premises.”
I raised a brow. What the hell was he talking about?
He studied me, that smirk still plastered on his face. “I want to show you something and then take you to dinner.”
I crossed my arms under my breasts. A shiver raced down my spine as his pupils blew out when his gaze landed on my cleavage.
“Why?”
He blinked before meeting my eyes again. “Why?” he repeated.
“Yes. Why are you here? Why are you wanting to take me to dinner? Cause I swear to God, if this is another attempt at apologizing, I’m going to lose my freaking mind.”
He shook his head, and for a hot second, he seemed nervous. But then the cocky smirk was back. “I want to take you on a date.”
I stumbled back before catching myself. Was he serious?
“Angie.” He leaned back on the counter. “No expectations. Just one date. That’s all I’m asking. If, after tonight, you want nothing to do with me, we can go back to the original plan.”
“Original plan?”
“Yeah. I’ll run the business side from Boston, you’ll manage the daily stuff here.” His lips twitched. “At least until I can find a way to erase you from my mind. Because a hundred miles didn’t work.”
“Wyatt.” I shook my head and swallowed. Nerves mixed with excitement from his words had my stomach flipping. “I?—”
“Boss.” Steven’s voice interrupted the moment as we continued to stare at each other.
Finally, Wyatt’s shoulders dropped, and he turned toward the young guy.
“You’re back?”
“Yeah. I decided there was something missing in Boston.” He chuckled. “Guess this place is starting to grow on me.”
My breath hitched, and although Steven didn’t catch it, I didn’t miss how Wyatt glanced over at me.
“I’m going to run out and grab some food. Probably pizza from Starlight Pi or maybe Big Chowder this time. What can I bring you two back?”
Before I lost the nerve, or maybe even the chance, I spoke up. “Thought I was going with you?”
Wyatt’s gaze spun back to me and his brows rose. “If that’s what you want.” He tipped his head toward the front door. “You ready? Paul’s waiting out front.”
Now it was my turn to smirk. Oh. Confident, was he? Odd since I wasn’t sure about this insane plan. Or what the hell he was even offering me. He knew I wasn’t agreeing to casual sex with my boss, right? And, of course, I couldn’t say any of that in front of Steven.
Wyatt turned back to the young guy again. “Mind holding down the fort? I’ll bring you your normal back from Big Chowder?”
“Yeah, no problem, and my usual is fine. Thank you.”
I walked around the counter, and the minute my feet hit the tiled foyer in front of the desk, I froze. My skin broke out in gooseflesh as Wyatt’s heated stare trailed down the black dress I wore and landed on my knee-high black heeled boots. They usually made me feel sexy, but with his hooded stare, that feeling was so much stronger.
“Let’s go.” The gruffness of his voice made it even better.
I loved the feeling of affecting him like this so much. And as he waved me in front of him toward the front door, I wondered if he knew or understood that.
Once outside, my heels tapped against the concrete as we made our way to the street where Paul was parked. He glanced down at my boots again and his jaw clenched.
“Is this like the thing that happened on Friday? Where my boobs in the sweater I wore were such a distraction you couldn’t focus on what I was saying?”
His gaze raised to my face, and he stopped, suddenly turning to me. “Yes. You in come-fuck-me boots is definitely making my good intentions for tonight hard to remember.”
I tilted my head. “Good intentions?”
“Yes. Taking you out on a date and keeping my hands to myself.”
I smiled. “But what if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?”
He quickly crowded my space, his breath dancing along my skin as he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “And where exactly do you want my hands?”
Heat rose into my face, a stark contrast to the chill air around us. “Anywhere on my bare skin.”
He trailed one finger down my arm and a shiver raced through me. I didn’t know whether it was the cold March air or his touch or both. Regardless, that simple touch already had me wanting more.
“Come on, you’re cold. I have a jacket in the car.” He threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me forward.
Once inside, Paul looked over his shoulder at me with a smile. “Nice to see you again.”
“You too.”
Wyatt held his jacket open for me, and I slipped my arms through the sleeves.
His hand found my knee. “Art on the Square first, Paul.”
“Got it.” Paul pulled away from the hotel.
“Art on the Square?” I asked.
“Yeah. Local artist. Love her stuff.”
I whipped my gaze to him. A light stubble coated his jaw, eliciting thoughts of his face rubbing along my skin, leaving rough sensations behind. I attempted to squeeze my legs together to relieve the tension, forgetting his hand was on my knee until he applied pressure, pulling my right leg back toward him.
He studied me with a smirk, desire swirling in his irises.
“Wyatt?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Yeah, baby?” he leaned his head back against the seat and turned to look at me.
Those words made me feel even more unsure about all of this, and suddenly I wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing. Had I completely lost my mind? But I couldn’t say it felt wrong either.
“Angie.” He squeezed my knee.
I finally met his gaze and swallowed thickly at the vulnerability there.
“I know I’m asking for a lot of trust that I probably don’t even deserve. And I have no idea what I’m doing. But the one thing I know is sitting here with you feels right.” He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Remember, no expectations tonight. Just a date.”
I relaxed back into my seat and nodded. “Okay.”
A date. I could do that. At least I thought I could.
Paul pulled up in front of a brick storefront where the window showcased several beautiful paintings. I couldn’t believe he’d thought to bring me here.
He climbed out and offered me his hand. I scooted over and swung my feet out, loving the way he zeroed in on my legs where the skirt of my dress rose up my thighs. For the first time, I didn’t feel the need to yank it back down.
He pulled me to my feet and tight against his chest, burying his nose in my hair and inhaling.
Did he really just smell me? I giggled.
“Honeysuckle,” he whispered.
I shivered from his warm breath against my ear. “It’s my favorite scent.” I had an obsession, and almost all my lotions, perfumes, and bath items had honeysuckle in them.
“It’s intoxicating.” He pulled back and searched my face as he ran his hand down my arm and threaded his fingers through mine.
We stood there for a heartbeat, staring at each other, before he turned toward the art gallery. I stepped past him as he held the door open, and my jaw dropped. Gorgeous paintings of the lighthouse, the beach, and the town hung around the small space. One in particular caught my eye, and I moved toward it.
“It’s the hotel,” I said in awe. The wraparound porch with the lights, the red door that seemed to pop from the page against the hues of white and lighter browns, the large windows that displayed bouquets of flowers—it was all there, in brilliant, realistic brushstrokes.
He came to stand next to me. “Stella did such a great job on this one.”
I whipped my gaze his way. “How come you haven’t bought it? I’m surprised your grandmother didn’t want it.”
“I do own it.” He didn’t look away from the piece as he talked. “She was still finishing it when Nana B passed. I bought it once she was done, but I wanted it displayed here so everyone in town could see it whenever they wanted. I wasn’t the only one grieving, and it felt selfish to keep it for myself.”
I smiled. “You’re such a romantic.”
Finally, his gaze left the painting to land on me with an eyebrow raised. “No one has ever used that word to describe me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Must be getting soft in your old age, then. Because that is the most sentimental thing I’ve ever heard.”
A woman appeared in the room, and the moment Wyatt turned toward her, she closed the distance, holding her arms out.
“Wyatt, so glad you could come.”
I wished I could say I wasn’t jealous when they embraced, but I’d be lying. She was gorgeous, with long strawberry blond hair and a figure I’d die for.
“Is this Angie?” She turned to look at me as she pulled back.
Who was this woman? And how did she know my name?
“It is.” He peered down at me, and his hand landed on the small of my back. “Angie, this is Stella.”
“You painted all these?” Her work was utterly beautiful.
She nodded with a smile.
“Angie loves your painting of the doors from New Orleans.”
“Wait.” I glanced from Wyatt to Stella. “That was you too?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I grew up there.” She pointed behind her to a painting of a large, beautiful riverboat. “That one is my favorite.”
“It’s gorgeous. But the one with all the doors is captivating. I love the way they seem to pop off the page.” I turned back to the painting of the front of the hotel. “Like the red door does in this one.”
Wyatt led me to the opposite wall. “This one is my favorite. The way the waves come alive.”
They did. Looking around, most of her paintings had that feel. Slightly subdued backgrounds with either bright pops of color or a technique that made it almost look 3D.
We spent another few minutes chatting with her before she stepped away to chat with a man who walked in. Wyatt led me into a large, open room that had a dozen more paintings. I was in awe and enjoyed looking at her work as we walked around and stopped at each one. Was it sad that, so far, this was the best date I’d ever been on? The fact that Wyatt put thought into what I’d enjoy?
I turned toward him and popped up on my toes, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Thank you for this.”
“For what?” He cocked a brow. “You haven’t even decided which one I’m buying you yet.”
Was he out of his mind? “Buy me one? You can’t buy me a thousand-dollar painting.”
“Why not?” His brows pulled together. “It’s not like I don’t have the money, and it’s something you like.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it again with a sigh. “No expectations, remember? And you buying me stuff on our first date feels like a lot of expectations. So how about for tonight, we table the idea of buying expensive art?”
His face fell and his lips turned down into the cutest pout. “Told you I’m not good at this.”
I spun so I was standing directly in front of him. Using both hands to grab the sides of his dress shirt where it was open at the top, I pulled him down toward me and pressed my lips against his. He stiffened for a breath before relaxing and grasping my waist, yanking me tightly against his body. Before I could even take another breath, he was devouring my mouth like he was dying of thirst and I was the drink of water he needed to survive.
It was a heady feeling when his cock hardened and pushed against my lower belly. A groan vibrated through him, and he broke the kiss.
“Jesus, woman. How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make me lose all sense of control and intelligent thought.” He sighed and rested his forehead against mine. “I have no idea what we were talking about.”
I chuckled and pulled back to look up at him. “You wanted to buy me a painting, and I reminded you of the no-expectations thing. But then you said you weren’t good at this.”
“Right.” The pout was back on his face. “So why’d you kiss me?”
“Because bringing me here, to walk around and look at beautiful paintings, was perfect. I don’t need you to buy me one.” I reached up and ran my finger along his lower lip, wiping off the red lipstick smeared there. “And I wanted to show you how perfect this is.”
“Most women want me to buy them things.”
I raised a brow. “And do you think I’m like those women?”
He studied me for a beat before his head shook slightly. “I think you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” I said wearily.
“It’s uncharted territory for me.” His grip tightened on my waist as he continued to hold me flush against him. Almost as if he was worried I was about to disappear. “I’ve never been this freaked out about messing up. I’m not afraid to own my shit. But with you…”
Uncertainty flashed across his features, and I ran my hands up his chest and around to the back of his neck. “The no expectations rule applies for you too. I don’t expect you to be perfect or not mess up. All I expect is honesty.”
“That I can do.” A smile lit his face. “Ready for dinner?”
I nodded, and excitement bubbled up at the reminder that the night wasn’t over yet.