Page 69 of The Wingman

Her eyes warm, and she smiles softly. God, she’s so fucking pretty, even with weird hair. “I want to, then.”

Still smiling, she pulls it over her head. It’s a little big on her, but in a fucking adorable way that makes me want to pick her up and toss her over my shoulder in some weird caveman display.

I clear my throat, trying not to look too pleased. “Looks pretty cute.”

“You think?” She looks up at me through her lashes, the apples of her cheeks popping with her smile.

“Mhm.” Warm pleasure expands through my chest. “And you’ll fit right in with Pippa and Hazel.”

Wishful thinking, I guess, that she would fit in with them completely. That she’d be cheering for me and supporting me in the same way the Hartley sisters support their guys.

As if we were together.

I should clarify, but I just let the implication linger, testing it out.

“Thanks,” she says, looking down but still smiling. “I love it.”

“You are very, very welcome.”

“Can I pay you back?”

“Not a chance.”

She huffs a light laugh, thick lashes fluttering, and fucking hell, I want to kiss her.

“A package arrived for you earlier,” she says, glancing at thebox on the side table, throwing cold water all over the dumb moony feelings I’m trying to ignore.

“Yep.” I clear my throat, backing up a step. “I saw it.”

Her eyes linger on my expression, and I lift my eyebrows, trying to look normal and not like I’m trying to hide the sex toy I bought her.

“What is it?” She watches me with a little curve to her mouth.

“What is what?”

“What’s in the box?”

“I don’t know.”

Her gaze sharpens, and her smile hitches higher. “Open it, then.”

“I’ll open it later.”

“Hayden.” She steps toward the box, and I lunge for it, grabbing it and tucking it behind my back. Her jaw drops and her face lights up with an accusing, knowing smile. “I knew it. You’re hiding something. What is in that box?”

“It’s—” My brain goes blank. “Private?”

Her grin is teasing and gorgeous. “One of those weird sex things you’re definitelynotinto?” she asks, lowering her voice, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive way as she tries not to laugh.

“Yep.” I nod. “That’s it.”

She stares at me for a long moment before she darts forward, but instead of reaching for the box, she digs her fingers into my ribs, just below my pec, and a gasp of laughter bursts out of me.

“Tell me what’s in the box,” she demands, laughing as I gasp for air. “Or I’ll tickle you until you pass out.”

“Darce,” I groan, shaking with laughter, trying to push her hands away. “You play dirty.”

“That’s right, Wingman, I’m merciless.” She adds a secondhand, digging into the other side of my ribs, and I accidentally drop the box in a struggle to get away from her, laughing the whole time.

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