Page 84 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

“You’re right,” Beau said, pressing his lips to hers. “It’s even better.”

His mouth lingered against hers, and Sienna’s lids fluttered shut, waiting for another kiss that didn’t come. When she opened them, she found Beau staring pensively.

“What?”

He shook his head. “All that stuff out there,” Beau began, running his hand up her side. “I wasn’t lying. But I also imagined this moment too.”

Even among the familiarity of him, there was a softness to Beau’s eyes that was new—something Sienna never wanted to go without. She cupped his cheek, rubbing the stubble of his jaw with her palm before tracing his lips, swollen from their kissing, with her thumb. “Me too.”

Beau turned his head, nipping her palm. “But I’m serious, though, about what I said out there,” he repeated, a coy smirk creeping across his face. “Ireallymeant it.”

Sienna was still so warm from their lovemaking she couldn’t tell if her cheeks flushed. But her entire body warmed even more from the inside—remembering how his body felt under hers, against hers, the cool glass and smooth wall against her skin.

“You better,” she told him, scooting closer so they were chest to chest. “I’m going to hold you to it. I’m adding them to the wish list.”

Beau nuzzled her neck, his hand pressing her lower back to pull her flush against him. “I can’t get enough of you,” he confessed. His words painted a chill across her sensitive skin as he trailed his mouth to her ear and he whispered, “I wish I never will.”

Sienna wrapped her arms around Beau.Please don’t. Please don’t make me give this up again, she thought with anguish.

She would have stayed there forever—drunk on the smell of their skin pressed together, hypnotized by the pounding of his heart, as if it were trying to beat out of his chest to join hers. It was the missing piece she had been searching for since he left all those years ago—the connection that Sienna knew didn’t come with just anyone. With Beau, it was so deep it had to be molecular.

Sienna now realized she didn’t need to sleep with him to know that. His comforting presence over the past month—even the early, hard days—had been enough to quell her aching heart. But her body, now knowing what it had been missing out on, screamed for him, and if her stomach hadn’t grumbled hard against his own, Sienna would have begged him to show her something he had mentioned in the living room.

Beau lifted his head. “I have dinner for you.” He pulled away, stepped into his closet, and tossed a T-shirt at her. “Did you really drive out here with no pants?”

Sienna slipped the T-shirt over her head. A waft of Beau enveloped her—clean, masculine, and woodsy—and she wanted to drop back into the warm, disheveled sheets that held more of his scent.

“You’re lucky I even bothered with the jersey,” she said with a sigh before heading to clean up in the bathroom.

At the sink, Sienna took in her reflection in the mirror—disheveled hair that refused to be tamed and tucked behind her ears, flushed cheeks, smudged mascara. She dried her hands on the neatly folded towel and raised her arms above her head, a smile painting her face at how relaxed her body felt—bordering on deliciously sore in the right places.

In the kitchen, Sienna found Beau at the stove. “I thought you couldn’t cook?” She leaned against the island.

“Why do you think I bought that restaurant?” Beau licked sauce off the tip of his thumb.

Sienna laughed. “You can’t be that lazy.”

“No, notthatlazy. Sometimes I make ramen noodles.” He turned from the stove. “Here, sit. Hopefully, it didn’t dry out too much. I wasn’t thinking we’d eat this late. You put a wrench in my plans like always.”

Sliding onto a bar stool, Sienna crossed her legs. Her stomach grumbled again, and she twirled noodles onto her fork. A moan of delight escaped her lips as soon as she took a bite.

“Told you,” Beau said, wiping his mouth. “Truffled gouda fettuccini. Can’t beat it.”

They ate over small talk and light touches—like the brush of Beau’s foot up and down Sienna’s bare calf. Sienna pushed the plate toward Beau to finish it.

“Don’t tell me you’re full. There’s still dessert.”

“Chipwiches?”

“Actually, tonight, instead of back in time, we’re looking at the future.” Beau paused, tilting his head. He ignored the confused look on Sienna’s face and finished his pasta. “Well, kind of. Past, present,andfuture.”

Sienna squinted in confusion. “I’m not following.”

Beau wiped his face and stood, reaching for a kitchen towel hanging on the handle of the stove before twisting it.

Sienna quirked an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”

Beau twisted the towel, coming behind her. Sienna jumped when he placed it over her eyes, tying it behind her hair. She relaxed when Beau’s hands dropped to her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

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