Page 29 of Better Not Pout
Handsome.
That’s all I could come up with as a response.
“Do we have time for a quick stop before we meet Zander?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’m down for whatever.” He gives me a reassuring smile.
I’m going to need a tad bit of liquid courage in the form of one thing: hot chocolate.
I’m not usually so nervous, but I’m just feeling slightly off-kilter with what happened yesterday in his bar. I’m pretty sure my palms are clammy right now.
We walk hand in hand toward the red-and-white candy-cane-themed stand near the corner of Town Square. “There’sonly one thing that Frosty’s makes better than their coffee, and that’s their hot chocolate,” I say when we make it to the counter and order two with extra whip and sprinkles on top. I’ll worry about the calories later.
Wells blows into the top, which is billowing with steam, before taking a sip, his brow rising as he does. “Damn. Alright, that’s fucking good.”
I giggle. “Told you so.”
Stepping closer, he slides a hand around my waist and closes the distance between us. “Only thing sweeter than this is you.” My cheeks heat, and before I can respond, he says, “Would you look at that?”
His chin lifts as he glances up, and my gaze travels the length of his, landing on the sprig of mistletoe hanging above our heads. When his eyes meet mine again, he’s grinning, the air shifting between us as he slowly lowers his mouth to mine. His words are a whisper across my lips as he says, “Just in case anyone’s watching.”
The kiss begins soft, unhurried. Wells moves his lips against mine like he’s memorizing the shape, the feel, the taste of me, but then it turns heated. His tongue sweeps into my mouth as he curves his hand around my nape, tugging me even closer, kissing me until I forget that we’re standing in the middle of Town Square and the entire town is likely watching.
Until we’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat.
We break apart, breathing heavily as we both turn to see Bradley and his fiancée standing beside us.
Of course, it would behimwho interrupted one of the best kisses of my life.
I’m honestly surprised to see him, and I realize how stupid that sounds. How is it that I’d already kind of pushed him to the back of my mind when he’s the entire reason this is even happening?
Oh, you know, because I’ve been so caught up in Wells and his wicked mouth and the sudden arrival of his brother that I truly haven’t had time to think of much else.
“Rosalie…” Bradley trails off when he flicks his gaze to Wells. “Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
He’s such a prick. It just shows how much more of a man that Wells is when he offers his name up once more but makes no move to put distance between us, nor remove his hand that is fitted tightly to my waist.
“We just wanted to come say hello and tell you how much we’re looking forward to the party,” Bradley says before turning to his fiancée. “And Jessica loved the ideas you sent over. The gingerbread cookies are perfect. You must’ve remembered they’re my favorite?”
I have to fight the urge not to roll my eyes at him. Instead, I tighten my fingers in the fabric of Wells’ jacket. “Actually, I didn’t. They’re Wells’ favorite, but I figured everyone would love them too.”
I actually have zero idea if he even likes gingerbread, but Bradley doesn’t need to know that.
Thankfully, my fake boyfriend plays right along with it. Wells chuckles, dipping down to ghost his lips along the edge of my jaw. “Yeah, I have the worst sweet tooth. Right, Sugar?”
I nod, biting my lip so I don’t laugh out loud. God, he is far too good at this.
“Yep.”
“We’ve gotta run. Lots to do, so little time. Gotta get my girl home before it gets too late,” Wells says, thankfully interrupting the awkward, heavy silence hanging in the air between us. “You two have fun tonight.”
Bradley huffs a goodbye that I hardly pay attention to. His fiancée trails behind him, and they disappear into the crowd.
“God, he’s such a freakin’ dick,” I mutter the second he’s out of sight. “Like he really couldn’t remember your name.”
Wells shakes his head, dragging a hand over his beard. “Yeah, he’s a fucking douche. Honestly, he doesn’t seem at all like the type of guy you’d go for. Might be wrong about that, but…”
When he trails off, I shake my head. “I don’t know if I have a type, per se? But he absolutely turned out to be nothing like I thought he was. Our relationship was kind of… complicated.”
