The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(79)

“Baby,” he gasped. His hand covered mine and he stroked himself faster with my hand, gripping tight. “Oh god. Hannah, you’re going to make me come.”

His eyes clenched closed, his mouth fell open, and he used my hand for pleasure. With a shudder and a groan, he spilled hot liquid all over our hands and his stomach while I watched in fascination.

He exhaled long and low. “Holy shit. You made me come so hard from a hand job.” He said it like he didn’t believe it and I beamed.

His grin was sluggish and lazy with the hint of casual cockiness, as always. He raised up and met my mouth. Pure affection and gratitude replaced by any urgency in me, and my heart expanded in my chest. His intoxicating scent teased me. The soft duvet brushed my bare skin, and his skin warmed me all the way to my toes. My brain hummed with comfort.

“I need to clean up,” he whispered. “One sec, okay?”

I nodded and he rose, stepping into the bathroom before returning with a washcloth. He shot me a wink as he wiped my hand off and I sighed.

When we crawled under the covers, he pulled me to him and I smiled into the pillow. My body tucked into his like we were made for each other.

“I’m falling for you, bookworm.” He whispered the words against the back of my head in the dark.

Alarm spiked in my brain. Those words were all I wanted to hear, so why was my chest tight?

“I’m falling for you, too.” I swallowed hard at the half-truth.

I wasn’t falling for Wyatt. I was in it. I was in love with him. The thought of him leaving—

“What are we going to do?” I breathed.

“I don’t know.”





23





Hannah





“Over here, bookworm.”

My paintbrush stilled and I shot a smile over my shoulder at Wyatt down on the sidewalk. He snapped a picture of me on the ladder in front of the store, painting Pemberley Books over the stencil.

Instead of a faded gray like before, the front of the store was now a deep forest green. Even in the late afternoon golden hour glow, the color was magnificent. Rich, lush, and comforting.

Chatter, laughter, and the whir of a drill traveled through the open door below me. When I had seen the new flooring Emmett, Holden, and Sam had installed, I had no words. The deep, cherry wood was a stark contrast to the gross old carpet, laying in a heap in the dumpster behind the store. Pemberley Books looked like a real store now.

The store wasn’t even finished yet. The books stood in stacks in the stockroom, waiting for placement once Sam finished fixing the shelves in the alley. Naya worked beside him, painting the mural with headphones on, lost in her work.

My heart squeezed with gratitude. I never could have afforded the flooring or installation. I never could have done all this work by myself in one day.

Wyatt stepped back to capture another picture. “Nice choice on that color.”

I smiled to myself as I applied the petal pink paint to the store name. It did look great, and if I changed my mind, I could paint over it.

Because everything was temporary, like Wyatt had said.

His words from the other night echoed in my head and my heart tripped.

I’m falling for you, bookworm.

Falling for Wyatt didn’t seem temporary. My stomach knotted and I shoved the thought away as I brushed more paint onto the sign.

In my back pocket, my phone buzzed. The music video clips had gone viral on Wyatt’s social media and the comments, likes, and messages had been rolling in. His fans thought the clips were hilarious and even Tula had commented and reposted. More brand sponsors had contacted me and he had a call with an agent tomorrow.

Holden stepped out the door and looked up at me. “You want me to install those lights now?”

“Oh. Sure.” I made my way down the ladder and Wyatt was at my side in a flash, ready to catch me if I fell.

The nurse at the ER thought you were my pregnant wife, he had told me days ago at his parents’ house. I liked the idea of it.

Wyatt’s gaze made my skin prickle with awareness. “Careful,” he said in a low voice, and I shivered.

If he was this protective now, what would he be like when I was pregnant?

My brain jolted. If. If I were pregnant. Which I never would be with Wyatt. We hadn’t even had sex. And it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t forever with him, as much that pinched to think about.

His thumb brushed my jaw and I leaned into his touch. “You got some paint on you.”

Our gazes met and I bit my lip. He had woken me up this morning with his tongue, drawing slow, intoxicating circles on my clit. Heat streaked through me at the memory.

Beside us, Holden folded his arms over his chest in exasperation. I flushed and Wyatt laughed and slapped me on the butt before I followed Holden inside.

Elizabeth and Liya had almost finished applying the wallpaper. I covered my mouth to hold back a squeal. The giant flowers were like something out of Alice in Wonderland. Holy crap. The store was almost unrecognizable.

“Sorry,” I told Holden. “I know you have better things to do.”

Holden managed the construction company now. He hadn’t done wiring in years, but he was here in the store, helping me out along with his entire family.

He waved me off. “It’s fine.” He pointed at the boxes near the door. “Are these the lights?”