Page 82 of I Saw Her First

He draws away with a low growl, adjusting himself, dark eyes pinning me to the spot. “I want to fuck you up against this door.”

Heat shudders through me. Iloveit when he says filthy things like that to me.

“But we have a reservation…”

I give a whimper of disbelief as he reaches for his wallet and keys, a grim expression on his face. My dress falls back down mythighs, and I scowl in frustration. What kind of torture is this, to get me all riled up and then juststop?

He notices my agitation and takes my hand with a chuckle. “Let’s go have a lovely meal together, and afterward I’ll make sure it was worth your while.”

My impatience dissolves, and I lift his hand to brush a kiss over the back of it. I don’t need sex from him to make it worthwhile—just being with him is enough.

“Sounds good,” I say, tipping my mouth into a smile. I glance at my reflection in the large mirror in the entry hall and laugh.

I’ll need to reapply my lipstick.

I’m completelyunder-dressed for the restaurant—an upscale place with linen tablecloths that overlooks the harbor—but Weston doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps reaching out to touch me, his gaze straying from my face to sweep over me from head to toe. More than once I catch him looking at me instead of his menu, and it makes my chest bubbly and fizzy, makes me feel like I’m living inside some kind of dream instead of reality.

How did I end up here, with this man who can’t keep his eyes off me, can’t keep his hands to himself? This man who wants to make me smile, who cares about me in ways I could never have imagined possible, who knows exactly how to make my body feel good?

I don’t know, but I’m going to appreciate every damn second of it.

The menu is almost too fancy for me to understand, but Wes makes a few suggestions that sound good, and when he orders us a bottle of wine, I try not to balk at the price. I tell him that a bottle of expensive wine like that is wasted on me, but he wavesmy words away, insisting I’m wrong. I’ve never had a man spend money on me like this before, and I’m not going to lie, it’s good to be spoiled.

“Tell me about your week,” he asks as the waiter pours our drinks. His gaze is warm, focused on me as I take my first sip of wine, savoring the notes of cherry and chocolate that are somehow infused into the dark red liquid.

So, he was right. This wine is to die for.

A happy sigh escapes me as I set my glass down. “My week was good. I had that shoot with Kyle and Violet.”

Weston nods. He must have seen the photos I snuck in to develop while he and Jess were at work. Thankfully, he gave me a key to the basement entry, so it’s been easier to slip in unnoticed, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little sick with dread each time I did.

“The prints looked fantastic, Daisy. Did Violet and Kyle like them?”

I nod, unable to suppress the excitement that surges through me because they didn’t justlikethe prints, they were thrilled. So thrilled, in fact, that Violet begged me to shoot their wedding. They’re having a small, quiet ceremony in their yard a few weeks from now, and I was honored by her request. It’s a little intimidating, shooting someone’s wedding—there’s a lot of pressure to capture the magic of the most special day of their life—but I couldn’t say no. Not when she’s supported me so much.

I tell Weston about her request and he beams at me, reaching for my hand across the table. Creases form beside his ocean-blue eyes as they move over my face. It’s that look from the meadow, the one where he’s so happy and proud of me, where my achievement means the world to him.

It’s a look that, if I’m being really hopeful, is filled with love.

But I’m too afraid to let myself want that from him.

“You know, I’m not at all surprised,” Wes murmurs, lifting my hand to his lips. “You’re so talented, baby. You have a knack for capturing the mood of a moment so well.”

I’m not the only one who can capture that; I also developed those pictures he took of me while I was on my knees for him last week, andholy crap, I couldn’t believe them. The look of pure lust in my eyes, the hunger on my face as I wrapped my fist around him. I’ve never seen myself like that before—as a powerful, sexual woman—but it showed me another side of myself. It showed me the woman that Weston sees, and it helped me to see that there might be more to me than I give myself credit for. That I’m more powerful than I realized.

“I got an invite to their wedding,” Wes adds, during our starter of locally sourced oysters.

“Well, I’ll see you there.” I smile, but only to disguise the uncertainty rippling through me. I’m not sure if he wants to tell Violet and Kyle about us, given they’re so close to his home and probably see Jess around.

“I’d love to have you as my date,” Weston adds quietly, as if sensing my unease. “But I’m not sure if that’s a good idea just yet. Not until we figure out what to do about Jess.”

“I get it,” I murmur. The waiter sets my entrée down in front of me, and I poke at it absently, wondering how we’re going to make this work. How it’s even possible for us to be a couple.

Why does it have to be so complicated?

“How was it having Jess home?” I ask, taking a bite of salad.

Wes nods, chewing thoughtfully but saying nothing, and my brows pinch together in concern.

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