Page 55 of Wicked & Wildflower

I glance down, watching the way he twists the chain back and forth between his fingers. My pulse kicks up at his proximity—the way it feels when his thumb briefly rubs against my neck. “Like I said, I like compasses,” I say breathlessly. He smiles, as if realizing the effect his touch has on me. “Darby bought me this necklace years ago.”

“Lou plays with it when she’s nervous.”

I nod. “Yeah, she’s done that since she was a baby. I bought her a matching one for her last birthday, but she lost it. I haven’t been able to find a replica.”

He hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t respond as his eyes stay glued to my chest. Mine are watching his mouth as his tongue snakes out from between his teeth and swipes alonghis lips. There’s hunger in his gaze, hunger and longing and something more.

I watch those deep brown eyes run the length of my throat, studying the curve of my jaw and the breath filtering through my lips before they reach my own. I wonder if I’ve got the same need in my face that he’s giving me right now.

I hear a shuffle of papers nearby, realizing that my office door is open. Scarlett and Jeremiah are standing at their desks, pretending not to pay attention, even though they totally are. They must’ve just gotten back from lunch…or wherever they were. I can’t remember. Truthfully, I can’t remember much past the way Everett’s hand feels at my neck.

He drops it, and I step back to create space between us.

We both clear our throats, glancing around the room and looking at anything besides the other’s eyes. “Thank you for the coffee.” The words come out high and cracked from my flustered voice.

“Always, Wildflower,” he says, sounding the same.

Are you awake?

I send the text to Everett, feeling stupid the second it says delivered. I sound like a fucking teenager.

Am now.

Can’t sleep, Wildflower?

No. And it’s your fault.

It’s just past midnight, and my entire household is dead asleep, but I have enough energy to run a marathon. Not that I actually ever would, of course. I figure, if I’m going to lay in bed all night thinking about the man who can’t seem to ever leave my head, I might as well make him keep me company.

I don’t know what you were thinking. Three shots of espresso? You’re insane.

Maybe this was my plan all along. ;)

What? Keeping me up all night?

Why would you wanna do that?

Maybe I wanted you to text me.

And why, Mr. Ramos, would you want me texting you so late at night?

I dunno…

So, anyway… What’re you wearing?

I laugh out loud as his second text comes through, clamping a hand over my mouth to stay quiet. I bite my lip. God, he’s actually making me feel like a giddy fucking teenager.

It has been so long since anyone has been able to make me feel like this.

Shameless flirt.

Only with you, Wildflower.

Really, though. I am sorry. For overloading you with espresso.

But also…what are you wearing?

Another giggle escapes me, and I can feel myself blushing behind my phone. I take a moment to consider what to say next and, knowing that it’s probably a horribly bad idea, I reach over and turn on the lamp beside my bed before throwing the comforter off my body.

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