Page 27 of Beautiful Mess

“That’s awesome. Did you work in a bakery before you opened your own?”

“No, my ex-husband and I got married and started having kids pretty soon after graduation, and it made the most sense for me to stay home since I had a pretty rough first pregnancy. Opening Bake Me Happy was my first time working as an adult, believe it or not.”

“Wow.” He grins. “Go big or go home.”

I chuckle, nodding. “That’s kind of my style, to be honest. When I set my mind to something, I go all in.”

“That’s admirable, Grace. And it seems like you’ve done quite well for yourself. You should be proud.” His words warm my chest.

Conway’s face pops into my mind, and the memory of howhiswords warmed me in a completely different way. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, especially not while I’m sitting across from Winston, a man who should have my full attention. A man who has done things the right way. He asked me on a real date, picked me up, and has been an absolute gentleman the whole evening. But I can’t help but notice the way my heart doesn’t race with Winston the same way it does with Conway. Maybe I’m expecting too much. Maybe the heart racing will come with time.

On the drive back to my place is nice, he tells me about where he’s visited in town so far, places he wants to check out still, and we talk a little about his life back in Charlotte. Music plays softly, filling any lulls in conversation, but by the time Winston pulls onto my street, I’m ready to change into some pajamas and have a glass of wine. Like the gentleman he is, Winston puts the car in park and gets out, opening my door for me. A bolt of nerves zips through me, realizing I don’t want him to walk me to my door, because I don’t want the pressure of feeling like I need to invite him in. Not that he’s done anything to make me feel like he expects that, but it’s a feeling that always comes. The obligation.

As I climb out of his car, I smile up at him. “Thank you for tonight, it was fun.”

“You’re welcome. I had fun too.” Winston gestures toward the walkway. “I can walk you to your door.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I breathe out a laugh. “My friend Charley is babysitting my kids inside, and she has a huge Great Dane who will go nuts if they hear anybody but me on the porch.”

It’s a lie, the kids are with Ethan. It’s the whole reason we decided to wait this long to go on the date, so I wouldn’t have to find a sitter. Praying he doesn’t remember that or call me out for it.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, Winston steps closer, his scent surrounding me. It smells nice.Not as delicious as Conway smells.When his gaze dips down to my mouth, I know he’s going to kiss me. My heart races and my palms sweat, and as he leans in, barely a second before our lips connect, I realize how much I don’t want to kiss him. It’s nothing against him; I’m just not feeling it. But because the idea of moving away now makes me want to crawl out of my skin with discomfort, I let Winston kiss me.

His lips are soft against mine, the mint from the gum he’s chewing filling my senses, but luckily, he keeps it short and sweet. No tongue.

I give him what I know is an awkward smile and lift my hand in a wave as I take a step back toward my walkway. “Thanks again for tonight.”

He smiles as he rounds the car. “Goodnight, Grace.”

By the time I reach the stairs, I turn and wave one last time, thankful that he drives off now instead of watching me unlock the door and step inside. I don’t know why that’s so uncomfortable after a date. Reaching into my purse, I grab my keys before taking the three steps to the porch.

“Nice evening?”

A garbled scream flies out of me, my heart leaping into my throat as I jump back, startled by the deep voice. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust because I forgot to turn my porch light on before I left, but as soon as I realize who it is, my shoulders relax marginally. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I clutch my chest, willing my heart to calm.

Conway stands up, his tall frame nothing more than a shadow. “Wanted to make sure your date wasn’t a serial killer.”

I storm over to him, shoving him with a hand to his wide, hard chest. He barely moves.Fuck him.“So, you wait on my porch in the dark?” I balk. “If anybody looks like a serial killer right now, it’s you.”

“I don’t like that he kissed you,” he growls, seemingly unfazed by how creepy him being here looks.

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yeah, well, I don’t like you sitting on my porch like some lurker, yet here you are.”

Conway smirks maniacally down at me, and my stomach flutters. “Tell me, Sin…” That nickname falling off his lips shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. As does the way he drags his heated gaze down my body. “Did the doctor make your panties as wet as I made them?”

“You’re a pig,” I spit out, laughing dryly and ignoring the way every atom in my body burns for him. “You don’t get to ask me that.”

“Why’s that?” he muses, head cocked to the side as he backs me up against the house, his hands coming up on either side of my head. He has me boxed in and cornered, and I fucking hate how much I love it.

“Because you can’t! What? Do you think because you fingered me one time, you suddenly own me?”

Conway huffs out a breath, leaning in and bringing his lips to my ear. A shiver rolls down my spine as I feel the roughness from his beard scratch the side of my face. “That’s exactly what I think, Sin.”

Holy shit.My mind is nothing but a jumble and my body is on fire. The possessiveness should be a turn-off. It should be a bucket of ice water over my head. But instead, it’s lava in my veins and a deep ache in my core. Even though I’ve successfully avoided Conway over the last two weeks, that’s not to say he hasn’t been on my mind. Replaying the way it felt to have his fingers inside of me, the way he made me come, the things he said to me. But most of all, how fuckinggoodit felt giving in to what I’ve wanted for quite some time. Despite how much he pisses me off, I can’t deny how my body reacts to him. Him being an asshole and pissing me off only seems to make my pussy that much wetter…like right now.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said the night of the auction,” he rasps into my ear, a layer of goosebumps covering my flesh. “What you called me. I want to hear you say it again, Sin.”

It doesn’t take but a second to know what he’s referring to.

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