Page 61 of Walkoff Wedding

I’m quiet for a second as I consider the answer.

“Yes,” I admit. “I do. It’s… sweet.” When I shift slightly in his lap, he sucks in a sharp breath, tightening his arms around me, causing me to freeze. “What? What’s wrong?”

“If you keep wiggling in my lap, every guy at this table is going to see how hard I get for my wife,” he whispers against my ear, the deep, gravelly baritone sending another involuntary shiver down my spine.

Oh my god.

Before I can respond, one of his teammates interrupts. “Grant, you want us to leave so you can have a date with your girl? ’Cause it feels like we’re intruding.”

The other guys snicker, each of them giving Grant a hard time until he shakes his head. “You mean my wife? She’s not just some girl, Heath.”

“Ohhhh, you heard the man. That’s his wife. Put some respect on it.” The dark-headed guy beside Heath elbows him in the side, resulting in a smack on the back of the head from Heath in return.

The entire exchange has me grinning, and when Davis notices, he tosses me another wink before adding, “Stop giving my man shit, y’all. Clearly, he’s in love and happy. Let him be.”

It seems that way—with how well Grant handles all of this, he makes it so easy to believe that he’s in love, that this marriage isn’t just a means to an end.

Shortly after, pizza is delivered to the table, thankfully none with pineapple, and we all dig in.

“Mmm, lemme taste yours?” Grant asks after devouring his slice in 2.5 seconds flat. The one thing that never ceases to amaze me is the man’s ability to eat. He’s like a bottomless pit, and I truly do not understand where it all goes. He’s the most fit guy I’ve ever seen, and apparently, everything he eats goes straight to his muscles.

My brow arches. “You want mine? You’ve got an entire pizza right there.”

His shoulder dips as he nods. “Yeah. But I’m fucking starving, and yours looks way better. What is it?”

“It’s veggie.”

I hold it out to him, and he takes a giant bite, licking away the excess sauce that clings to his lips while he chews. When he’s finished, a playful smirk curves his lips. “I guess it tastes better because it’s yours, baby.”

The way he holds my gaze, his eyes darkening, it feels like we’re not even talking about pizza any longer.

Once we’ve finished eating, Grant excuses us, and I say goodbye to all of his teammates, feeling much better. Tonight went way better than expected, and I’m feeling less nervous about the situation as a whole.

Only now… I’m feeling on edge. Tense. Completely wound and pulled taut.

After spending the night seated in Grant’s lap, his fingers brushing delicately along my skin, his breath fanning hotly along my neck, a hundred little touches that have somehow surmounted into something much bigger, I’m nearly squirming in my seat as we pull up to the apartment.

He shuts off the engine, then opens his door and rounds the truck to open mine, offering his hand. Always the gentleman. When my palm slides against his, it feels like a current of pent-up electricity hums between us, and I wonder if he’s as affected by tonight as I am.

It seems impossible that he couldn’t be when the tension in the air feels so… tangible.

“Hey, Auggie man,” Grant coos when we walk through the front door of the apartment, and I use the moment to escape into the kitchen for a bottle of water that I’m hoping will help the erratic pounding of my heart.

Twisting the top from the bottle, I bring it to my lips and take a gulp, hurriedly sucking the water down when I feel heat behind me, followed by the sound of Grant’s low, gravelly voice invading my ear.

“You okay?”

A shiver catches my spine at his close proximity, a strange heat flooding my lower belly. His hands bracket the fridge in front of me, caging me in, and if he stepped any closer, he’d be pressed against me.

“Yes.” My voice comes out steadier than what I feel, and it surprises even me. As I shift from one foot to the other, my thighs rub together, the friction catching me so off guard that my breath hitches audibly.

I feel Grant’s breath on my neck, gliding along my skin like a caress. “You sure? You seem a little… jumpy.”

Ducking beneath his arm, putting much-needed distance between us, I turn toward him and plaster on a smile. “Y-yep. Uh… I’m just going to go shower. Right now.”

He laughs low and slow, and I’m nearly panting. “Cool. I’m going to hang out with Auggie for a bit, catch up on some game highlights. I’ll be in later.”

I muster a nod and then all but sprint from the kitchen to the bedroom. I desperately need a moment to collect myself.

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