Page 23 of Daddy Christmas

He smiled back and grabbed my hand. “I very much enjoy what we’re doing. Just tell me straightaway if something is wrong—and that includes if I do something wrong. It’s been so long since I dated that I feel like I’m flying blind at times.”

I’d sort of figured that out. And to be honest, it was reassuring. Even the most polished man had to fumble in the dark every now and then.

“Can I ask what went wrong between you and your ex-husband?” I wondered. “I’ve noticed you’re very open with me, and you said something about empty promises.”

He inclined his head and checked the rearview before switching lanes. “Even before we got married, we had problems—partly because he didn’t want to leave Rome, and I had no desire to leave my family here. But we’d agreed to cut down on work so we could see each other more often. And I did. I tried to rekindle what we used to have in the beginning of our relationship…” He trailed off, and his brow furrowed. “Deep down, I suppose I always knew we weren’t a great match, but I was willing to work to get to a better place.”

He scratched his jaw, seemingly deep in thought.

Right now, I couldn’t believe I’d ever viewed him as devoid of emotion and closed off. He was a completely different person.

“After one too many missed dinner reservations, he knew I was all but done,” he went on. “At that point, I was doubting my feelings too. I’d lost the energy to fight. But Tom got paid to plead his case. By day in a courtroom, by night in our relationship—and he proposed marriage to me.”

I couldn’t help but stick out my tongue, as if Tom were here in the car with us.

Wyatt grinned faintly and threaded our fingers together. “You’re right. I am open with you, Parker. I’m hoping to avoid another failed relationship in which we try to be someone we’re not. I was never meant to be with him long-term, and he’s not meant to be with anyone long-term. And once I admitted that to myself, I filed for divorce. I was angry with him, with myself, for wasting all those years trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.”

I couldn’t imagine fighting for something for that long if it didn’t feel 100% right. At the same time, I admired any man who kept his word and did his best to uphold a vow.

“It’s better you stick with me,” I said decisively. “I just wanna make you happy and smile a lot.”

He squeezed my hand. “You’re succeeding.”

Fist pump.

Unfortunately, my own happiness took a hike when he pulled in right outside my building a few minutes later, and not even a big dessert on my lap brought any comfort. I was gonna end up eating the half-melted mess alone in bed.

Wyatt was big on chivalry and wanted to get the door for me, so while he left the car, I tried my hardest to mask the disappointment welling up. I couldn’t really explain it. I had a growing unease in the pit of my stomach, and it reminded me too much of vulnerability. I was lowering my guard and growing comfortable with Wyatt, and the end to an evening was evidently enough for me to feel a little wounded and exposed.

It was as if there were a little boy in me going, “You’re leaving me so soon?”

And I supposed, in a sense, that was exactly what was happening. That part of me had already latched on to Wyatt.

It was going to be super tough to practice patience.

The door opened, and I left his dessert on the dash before I reluctantly stepped out.

“Thank you very much for a perfect dinner, sir.” I should probably say more than this. I should be as open as he was being with me. I should confess that I didn’t want the evening to end yet. I swallowed a flurry of nerves and wondered where the hell my usual happy-go-lucky attitude and fearlessness had gone. This wasn’t normally something I hesitated to be vocal about. “Do, uh…” Christ, just say something. “Do you know when we can see each other again?”

Close enough. Maybe if I had a date or day to look forward to, it would be easier to say goodnight.

Wyatt hummed and walked a little closer to me. “Well, I’ll be at corporate tomorrow, so it’s going to be difficult to steal you away for lunch.”

Yeah, that part sucked donkey butt. I didn’t want him at corporate at all.

“Corporate stinks.” I fiddled with his tie and scowled to myself.

“I’m inclined to agree with you.” He gently grabbed the dessert bag from me and set it on the ground. Then he closed the distance between us and kissed my temple. “I have a one-hour window after four. How about I pick you up from work?”

One hour. Not even that, actually. He had to make it back too. But I’d take whatever I could. So I nodded and rested my forehead against his sternum. He smelled so damn good. And I wasn’t particularly cold, but he felt warm and comforting all the same.

“Any minute you can spare, I will take, sir.”

He sighed and inched away enough to cup my cheeks, forcing me to look up, and then he dipped down and kissed me hard. A rush of desire tore through me, and I slipped my hands up his chest and locked them around his neck.

It was as if his resolve broke. Gone was the patient gentleman, replaced by raw hunger, and it smacked a forceful wall of urgency right into me. He moved his hands to the back of my neck and angled me for a deeper kiss, and I pushed back. I did everything but climb him like a tree.

I knotted my fingers in his hair and swirled my tongue around his. I pressed myself closer and couldn’t stop all the needy little sounds from escaping me.

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