Down and Dirty (Hot Jocks #5)(23)

“Um, yeah. That’s how gifts work, right?” Frowning, he says, “I thought you’d be more excited about this.”

I fold my arms tightly over my chest, fully aware he’s unhappy about my reaction. “How can I be excited? I like my car. It has a great safety rating, gets good gas mileage, and I just got good at parallel parking with it. If you would’ve asked me first, you would’ve known that.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He grips the back of his neck as he stares down at the gray concrete beneath our feet. “I didn’t think about that.”

I sigh, uncrossing my arms. I can’t bear the sight of him looking so bummed. But this is something we need to talk about.

I walk past him and open one of the back doors, peering inside. “It’s a beautiful car, Landon. I just don’t understand why you bought it. Was it really just so I would fit in with the WAGs?”

“You want the real reason?”

“Of course. I’ll always want honesty from you.”

He sighs, worrying one hand through his messy hair before shifting his gaze toward mine. “I thought you’d look hot driving it.”

I scoff. That has to be a joke, right? But once again, there’s nothing but sincerity in his brilliant blue eyes. My lips part as I fumble for the right words, but I’m momentarily speechless.

“You okay?” He laughs, raising one thick brow.

“You spent eighty thousand dollars on an SUV because you thought I’d look cute sitting in the driver’s seat?”

He nods, as if this whole thing were totally ordinary.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Fuck, come here.” He scrubs a hand down his face before turning my body toward his. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s obvious.” I smirk, somehow feeling pleased by his discomfort. This entire time he’s been so in control, so chill about this marriage, while I’ve been reeling in confusion and not having a clue what the hell I’m doing or how to act.

At the first sign of a smile on my lips, he slides an arm around my waist and tugs me even closer to him. “I’m your idiot.” He presses a gentle kiss to my cheekbone, sending a flutter to my chest. “Try with me.”

“I am trying,” I say defensively.

The faint smile twitching on his lips gives everything away. He knows I’m lying. Dammit. Why does he have to be so perceptive?

“We’ll get there,” he says encouragingly.

I fold my arms over my chest as a foreign feeling twists inside me. I both hate and love his confidence in us.

“Patience is a virtue, Landon,” I say softly, feeling shaken.

He smiles again, genuinely this time, and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You look cute as hell when you’re mad.”

And before I have time to pick a fight, his mouth descends on mine.

It’s just a kiss, a sweet, slow kiss, but it makes me nervous. His kiss holds the power to unleash a torrent of emotions I don’t want to feel, but I’m powerless to say no. I want his firm mouth moving on mine.

I draw in a huge, stuttering breath, forcing my lungs into action. And when my lips part, he teases his tongue inside.

Everything in my lower half clenches. Dear God . . . this man. He sucks expertly on my bottom lip, nipping at it gently.

The kiss is over way too soon. Before long, Landon pulls back to meet my eyes with a smirk. I don’t have any idea how he manages to rile me up one second and then turn me on the next. It’s a heady, potent combination that I may never get sick of.

“Should we go upstairs?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“What about the bags?”

“I can ask my building’s concierge to bring them up in a bit.”

“Then it looks like we’re going upstairs.” I smile while my heart pounds out an uneven rhythm.





8




* * *





Sorry, Not Sorry





Landon



I take Aubree’s hand, tugging her behind me toward the elevator in my apartment building. She jams her finger against the button several times.

“You know that won’t make the elevator come any faster, right?” I chuckle, squeezing her hand.

“Shush your mouth,” she says with a crooked smile, meeting my eyes.

Loving how feisty she is, I grin at her. “Thank you for today. For coming with me, I mean.”

She nods. “I’m terrified to think what you would have chosen if I wasn’t there.”

Feeling smug, I shake my head. I’m trying not to feel let down at how quickly she refused my gift—that gift being a luxury SUV, mind you. I only wanted to make her happy, but it seems I have a lot to learn about pleasing my wife.

“Can you stay?” I ask when the elevator door opens on my floor.

With a smile tugging at her lips, Aubree nods. “I suppose I can stay for a little while.”

I unlock my apartment and let her inside, pausing by the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“I’m good,” she says, but her body language tells a different story. Her posture is straight, stiff, and she hasn’t wandered more than a half-dozen steps inside my apartment.