Page 25 of Boss Me Not

“It is.” He peered down at me, and his hand landed on the small of my back. “Angie, this is Stella.”

“You painted all these?” Her work was utterly beautiful.

She nodded with a smile.

“Angie loves your painting of the doors from New Orleans.”

“Wait.” I glanced from Wyatt to Stella. “That was you too?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I grew up there.” She pointed behind her to a painting of a large, beautiful riverboat. “That one is my favorite.”

“It’s gorgeous. But the one with all the doors is captivating. I love the way they seem to pop off the page.” I turned back to the painting of the front of the hotel. “Like the red door does in this one.”

Wyatt led me to the opposite wall. “This one is my favorite. The way the waves come alive.”

They did. Looking around, most of her paintings had that feel. Slightly subdued backgrounds with either bright pops of color or a technique that made it almost look 3D.

We spent another few minutes chatting with her before she stepped away to chat with a man who walked in. Wyatt led me into a large, open room that had a dozen more paintings. I was in awe and enjoyed looking at her work as we walked around and stopped at each one. Was it sad that, so far, this was the best date I’d ever been on? The fact that Wyatt put thought into what I’d enjoy?

I turned toward him and popped up on my toes, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Thank you for this.”

“For what?” He cocked a brow. “You haven’t even decided which one I’m buying you yet.”

Was he out of his mind? “Buy me one? You can’t buy me a thousand-dollar painting.”

“Why not?” His brows pulled together. “It’s not like I don’t have the money, and it’s something you like.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it again with a sigh. “No expectations, remember? And you buying me stuff on our first date feels like a lot of expectations. So how about for tonight, we table the idea of buying expensive art?”

His face fell and his lips turned down into the cutest pout. “Told you I’m not good at this.”

I spun so I was standing directly in front of him. Using both hands to grab the sides of his dress shirt where it was open at the top, I pulled him down toward me and pressed my lips against his. He stiffened for a breath before relaxing and grasping my waist, yanking me tightly against his body. Before I could even take another breath, he was devouring my mouth like he was dying of thirst and I was the drink of water he needed to survive.

It was a heady feeling when his cock hardened and pushed against my lower belly. A groan vibrated through him, and he broke the kiss.

“Jesus, woman. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me lose all sense of control and intelligent thought.” He sighed and rested his forehead against mine. “I have no idea what we were talking about.”

I chuckled and pulled back to look up at him. “You wanted to buy me a painting, and I reminded you of the no-expectations thing. But then you said you weren’t good at this.”

“Right.” The pout was back on his face. “So why’d you kiss me?”

“Because bringing me here, to walk around and look at beautiful paintings, was perfect. I don’t need you to buy me one.” I reached up and ran my finger along his lower lip, wiping off the red lipstick smeared there. “And I wanted to show you how perfect this is.”

“Most women want me to buy them things.”

I raised a brow. “And do you think I’m like those women?”

He studied me for a beat before his head shook slightly. “I think you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” I said wearily.

“It’s uncharted territory for me.” His grip tightened on my waist as he continued to hold me flush against him. Almost as if he was worried I was about to disappear. “I’ve never been this freaked out about messing up. I’m not afraid to own my shit. But with you…”

Uncertainty flashed across his features, and I ran my hands up his chest and around to the back of his neck. “The no expectations rule applies for you too. I don’t expect you to be perfect or not mess up. All I expect is honesty.”

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