Page 84 of A Pizza My Heart

“What? Why? We haven’t finished dinner yet.”

“Well, for one, my pants are soaking wet.”

He drifts closer to me, and I can smell the pine scent I’ve come to expect from him. I lean down toward him, trying to get a better whiff.

“And for two, if we don’t leave now, we’re going to cause a bigger scene than we already have.”

My brows pinch together.

He shifts even closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. If I turned my head just the slightest, I could kiss him.

I’ve never wanted to turn my head so badly in my entire life.

“Meaning there’s not much stopping me from dragging you into my lap and kissing you until your lips are swollen, and if I do that, I won’t be able to stop with just a kiss. So, unless you want this entire restaurant to bear witness to me having my way with you, I’d suggest we beat fucking feet while you’re still able to walk.”

Now it’smyturn to stop breathing.

I swallow thickly, and he pushes himself away, reaching for the napkins sitting at the end of the table.

He sits back with this calmness that has me reeling, because did he not hear the words he just spoke?

“Go wait in the truck, Wren.”

“W-Wait?”

His eyes drift to his lap then he gives me a lazy smirk. “I’d rather not put my hard dick on display on our first date. I don’t think that’s going to earn me many points.”

I lift a shoulder. “Depends on how big it is.”

Plucking my purse from the bench next to him, I scoot off the table as his jaw hits the floor. I drag another piece of candy from my purse and toss it his way. He catches it midair.

“What’s this for?”

“Not dying. That’s grade-A first-date etiquette.”

* * *

“I haveto admit something I’m not proud of.”

We’re sitting in the back of his truck, parked in our spot on the beach, no clouds in the sky, the moon bright and lighting our view.

In this moment, it feels like nothing’s changed in the last four years.

Like there’s no sudden sexual chemistry between us.

We’re just Foster and Wren, the world at our fingertips.

There are no failed marriages, no threats of our businesses getting closed. Life is as easy as it’s ever going to get.

I kind of miss those days.

“If it’s that you still wet the bed, I kind of already assumed that.”

“What?” He laughs. “That is one hundred percent not it.”

“A likely story.”

“Anyway”—he shakes his head, still smiling—“this, uh, this isn’t my first time here since I’ve been back.”

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