Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(60)

When the women realize we’re here and look up, my eyes go to Tabitha. I don’t know what to expect after earlier.

But the blinding smile she hits me with is not it.

It stops me in my tracks.

All my wishing I could make her happy, and here she is. Looking at me. Happy.

Here she is, getting up and heading straight for me.

Here she is, greeting me with a bashful, “Hi,” before pushing up on her tiptoes and pulling my face down to hers.

Her plush lips stay on mine for just a beat or two longer than is appropriate for the setting, and her tongue dances across mine, just like mine had at the grocery store.

And fuck, it feels good.

My pulse races as I sigh against her mouth. “What was that for?” I whisper, eyes bounding between hers.

“That was…” She licks her lips, gaze drifting to my mouth.

“See?” Rosie’s amused voice filters in from behind us, cutting her off. “She takes one look at him, and her cheeks are all red.”

“Shut up, Rosie,” Tabitha calls back without looking away. Then she changes the subject entirely and starts introductions. “Gwen, this is Bash,” she says, gesturing to my teammate.

He scowls at Gwen, and she pushes her blond hair behind her ears. “Yeah, actually…we’ve met.”

Rosie’s eyes widen, and her head rears back a bit. “You have?”

“Yup.” Bash’s voice is brusque. “Good to see you again. I’m going to head out. You kids have fun.”

Kids? Bash is maybe five years older than me. He’s never called us kids before.

Before I can call him on it, he spins on his heel and is gone. All of us look confused, except for Gwen, who can’t take her eyes off him as he leaves.

“Do you know him from yoga?” I ask.

Gwen smiles sadly, only responding with a hushed, “No,” and zero other information.

The group falls silent for a moment, and then, in his usual manner, West shifts everyone into chatter and cheer.

Except for me. I feel off-kilter. I want to know what Tabitha was going to say.

I watch her as she turns away and heads to the bar for another drink. She bends over and props her forearms against the edge and waits for Doris, who is busy talking to someone at the other end.

And I can’t resist the pull to her. Not after that kiss. Not after the stairs. I follow and approach from behind, caging her in as I prop a hand on either side of her and step in close.

She doesn’t turn to check; she knows it’s me, and she doesn’t draw away. In fact, I hear her suck in a breath, feel a tremor race down her spine, and watch her stiffen when my thighs press against her ass.

My lips graze the lobe of her ear as I drop my head to speak quietly. “You really think you’re gonna run away without telling me what that was?”

“Hmm,” she muses, leaning into me and pressing her back flush with my chest. Her ass rubs against my dick like the tease I know she can be. “That was…how real newlyweds would say hi.”

I lean in farther, covering her, pushing her against the bar and not really caring who’s watching. We’re fucking married. “Real, huh?”

She nods briskly, and I can hear her swallow. “Yeah. That.”

I hum thoughtfully, feeling her heat, the way she melts—the way her back arches against me. “You telling me I’m just imagining you grinding that ass on me right now?”

“Yeah,” she breathes. “All in your head.”

I tilt my head to take a look at her profile. The flush on her cheeks. The way she’s nibbling at her bottom lip.

“Tabby, baby, are you sick of playing this game?”

Her eyes slice over to mine, all wide and intentionally clueless. “What game?”

Guess I’m playing it too.

I drop my lips to the spot just beneath her ear. Then the side of her neck. The top of her shoulder, where I let my tongue dart out for a taste as my hips drive slowly against her jeans.

“The game where you pretend you weren’t about to tell me what that fucking kiss was about.”

Her chest is heaving. I can see it moving. I know exactly what I’m doing to her, and I could not care less.

“Okay, I was going to say—”

“Oh look! The emo one has become the horny one,” Doris announces, fists propped on her hips.

Tabitha straightens instantly, pushing me back like she’s a teenager who just got caught sneaking a boy through her window.

“Very funny, Doris.” Tabitha laughs to cover the tremor in her voice.

I scowl at Doris as I draw up straight and watch her take Tabitha’s drink order. Then I’m forced to stand around making small talk when what I really want is to be at home.

Alone.

With my wife.



At the end of the night, we both take our respective rides home, me with the guys, and Tabitha with the girls. And when West drops me off, she’s already there, sitting out on the front steps. She has her jacket collar pulled high around her neck to keep the chill out, turning over a white envelope in her hands.

I wave goodbye without taking my attention off her and saunter toward the stairs with a growing sense of dread. Because I’m pretty sure I know what that envelope holds.

It’s the only thing that’s kept me here rather than on the road.