Page 7 of Off the Naughty List

When it was finally over, she was the first to look away, blushing.

But she got it. She understood that look. He had to believe she had.

Maybe Maya had a point. Maybe he should just propose. Tonight. Before he found another reason not to.

Piper

Piper’s first wedding was a disaster. They got hitched at the city hall, with clerks as witnesses. No one—literally no one—had supported it, seeing right through John. He’d seen her, the Stone daughter, as a paycheck. But she was young, in love, and stupid.

Then Maya was born and Piper had to grow up fast.

Now, she had everything she’d ever wanted. Her daughter, a man who loved her, a career, parents. Not hers—they’d made overtures to get back in touch after she’d started dating Bennet, but Piper hadn’t wanted to hear them out. They weren’t interested in her or their granddaughter while they’d been struggling. She wasn’t interested in them now. The end. Bennet’s parents had always been in her corner, though—even more so, now.

If someone had asked her what else she could possibly want, she would have said nothing at all.

She would have lied. Tomorrow, she’d forget all about it; she’d remember how lucky she was, how blessed she was. But today, witnessing Finn and Anna’s wedding, an ache in her chest made itself known. A desire she couldn’t even process.

Bennet wasn’t the romantic type. He wasn’t the marrying type. He was solid and real, and he’d be right next to her through thick and thin, but getting on one knee and proposing? That wasn’t his deal. That was just fine. She didn’t need all that. She knew she and Maya were in his will—that they’d inherit the house if anything ever happened to him. She would never have broached the subject, but he’d told her one day after arranging it all. That was proof that for him, she was it. She didn’t need any more. She already had everything he had to give. She didn’t need a ring to crown it.

That didn’t change the fact that deep down, she wanted it. How she wanted to be his wife.

She danced through the heartache, smiled when she wanted to cry, then cried some, but that was fine, because everyone cried at weddings.

She danced with Maya, with Bennet, with Arabella, and Finn and Trick, and Carter, and Cassie. She danced with Lucy, and each and every one of her friends, until her feet started bleeding. Then, she got rid of her heels and danced some more.

It was well past midnight when they made their way to the main house—the Johnsons had rented out the property for their guests. She was tipsy and a little wobbly, but Bennet carried her to the room.

“Maya…”

“She’s with Cassie’s cousin. The blonde teen girl?”

Piper nodded tiredly. “Gabriella. Nice kid.”

Their friends didn’t have kids Maya’s age. Actually, most of their friends didn’t have kids at all yet, though some were trying for them. It was nice that Maya had made friends with a girl close to her age. Gabriella was thirteen.

Piper yawned, twisting to try to undo her zipper.

“Let me,” Bennet said, his voice raw and full of longing.

Her eyes cut to his deep amber gaze, and she smiled at him lazily. Suddenly, she wasn’t all that tired.

“I don’t think so, Mr. McFinnley. I think I want you to stay right there and watch.”

He groaned but complied, dropping his hands. She took her time, undoing the sleeves first, then lifting the skirt inch by inch, teasing him, before letting the dress fall to her ankles. She stood in front of him in a satin set of underwear he’d never seen before. Slowly, she turned around, to make him watch her.

“Come here.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Come. Here.” He was growling. “Or I’ll come to you. If I do, I will tear that pretty lingerie off you with my teeth.”

“That’s supposed to be a deterrent?” she asked.

Piper laughed when he leaped after her. She ran away, if only because he enjoyed the chase. He caught her when she was close to the dressing table. His arms caged her in between the pretty white chair and his hard torso.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered against her ear. “And mine. All mine.”

She was. And she wasn’t. She was Ms. Stone, not Mrs. McFinnley.

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