Page 77 of Love to Hate You

“Oh, I do. But I want to hear you say it.”

“Fine. I broke my vibrator. There. Are you happy now?”

“I think there’s another H-word that comes to mind first.” He lifted his head and kissed the center of her palm, which hung next to his ear.

“Stop distracting me, because I have to tell you the goodandbad parts. The good part is that Sloan’s publicist said she’d consider having a signing for her new book at my store.”

“That’s amazing, it could be a game changer for you. Really put you on the independent bookshop map.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“And you’re okay with that?” A hint of uncertainty creeping in. “Because every customer I get takes one away from you and vice versa.”

“I want nothing more than for you to be a huge success and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

“Even if the signing happens to coincide with your new grand opening?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’d be a disruptor for your big day.”

There was a long silent moment where she was certain that he was going to let go of her hand and say the war was back on. Instead, he said, “I am so proud of you. I wish you were down here so I could hug you.”

This was it, her gut said. This was the moment when she needed to make her decision. Yesterday, she’d been ready to reestablish the battle lines of their war. Now she found herself in a situation where she needed to decide if they were going to cross those lines. Delicious, dangerous lines that there was no coming back from.

Good thing her hormones were in the driver’s seat because she wanted him and she wanted him bad.

“IfI came down, it wouldn’t just be to hug,” she said. “Because I have on Gumball Pink panties.”

“That statement needs to be expanded on.”

“According to Cleo, the color pink is important when trying to relay to a man just how interested you are in sex. Pastel Pink means I’m destined to missionary until the day I die.”

“Please tell me you’re not into pastels.”

“I am not. Now, Wild Orchid hints at the fact that I own a red room and there’s a ninety percent chance I have a hidden runway behind my lace that’s ready for takeoff. Tickle Me Pink, well, that’s self-explanatory. Then there’s Gumball Pink, which means I’m playful in bed and don’t mind a little blow action.”

“So your panties are saying—?”

“Why don’t you come up here and see.”

That was as clear of a green light as a man could ask for. Which made him one lucky SOB. The woman he’d harassed and hurt in so many ways with his single-mindedness, his desperation to win, was trusting him with her mind and her body.

Wes didn’t waste even a breath with indecision. He’d been working hard all day to give her space so that when she agreed, he’d be sure, and thank Christ that he had because it sounded like she was as sick of space as he was.

Without a second wasted he was out of bed, climbing the ladder and sliding up her body, running his nose up her bare thigh and bringing her nightshirt with him. He breathed in deep when he got to her thong. “Gumball Pink, my kind of girl. Although I think you have a little Wild Orchid.”

“Are you saying I’m kinky.”

“I’m saying I know you’re kinky.”

He nuzzled into her core, running his nose right up the center, and breathed in again, drinking up the scent of her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, breathless.

He rested his body over hers like he was a weighted blanket, lining up all the right parts, then nipped her lower lip. “Laying all my cards on the table.”

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