Page 83 of The Wingman

I nudge the bag with my lingerie aside—thankfully, the paper bag is plain white with no identifying store name—and pull out the two tops I bought. He watches with interested amusement as I flip the shoebox open, but when I lift a pale blue velvet heel, his smile drops.

“Georgia convinced me to buy them. I know they’re different from what I usually wear, and they’re velvet so I can wear them like, two days a year here, but—” I shrug. “They’re kind of fun for spring.”

And I wanted them. I felt sexy, grown up, and stylish in them.

“I think those are called fuck-me shoes.” He stares hard at them, with a rough edge to his voice that makes my skin prickle.

Heat careens through me. “Are they?” My voice goes high. “I didn’t know.”

He swallows, blinking, and looks away. “What’s in this bag?” He reaches for the white paper bag, and alarm shoots through me.

“No, don’t?—”

He pulls out a delicate balconette bra—cream with pretty soft-purple flowers carefully stitched onto the gauzy fabric—and I freeze at the sight of the lingerie in his strong hand.

For a long moment, he just stares at it before he drops the lacy garment back into the bag. Our eyes meet; his cheekbones turn an adorable shade of pink; my face is burning.

I shrug with an embarrassed smile. “Georgia made me buy it.”

“Yeah.” He rakes his hand through his hair, the long line ofhis throat moving as he swallows. “That’s great. Lingerie is great.”

“Dressing like a player and all that.”

A muscle ticks near his temple and his gaze moves over me, flickering with something. Is he picturing me wearing it?

No, of course he isn’t.

He rises to his feet, glancing at the lingerie bag again before he jerks his gaze away. “Have you had dinner?”

I shake my head.

His eyes spark, and he wiggles his eyebrows at my new heels. The tension dissipates, and I can breathe again.

“Let’s take your new shoes out for a spin.”

CHAPTER 38

HAYDEN

“The cherry blossomswill be blooming soon.” Darcy tips her face up to look at the trees as we walk home from dinner.

My mind slides to the lacy bra I pulled out of her bag back at the apartment. The embroidered flowers were tiny, delicate, and so pretty. I can’t stop thinking about what she’d look like wearing it. What those flowers would feel like under my lips as I press soft kisses to the underside of her breasts, teasing her.

It’s exactly the kind of thing I’d buy for her, if I were buying her lingerie.

Which I’m not.

But which I’m thinking about and have been thinking about all night.

What else is in that white bag in the apartment? A matching pair of panties? I get an image of her stretched out on my bed, smiling up at me, wearing the matching set as I decide where to touch first. Darcy in lingerie that she picked out, thatshefeels hot in—it’s almost too much to bear. And then those shoes I’ve been glancing at all night.

I’ve never been a foot guy, but when Darcy wears sexy little fuck-me heels like that? Jesus Christ.

I need to get away from her before I do something stupid. I need to jerk off. I need to kiss her again. I need to get her out of my head, because I’m losing it.

She looks up at me expectantly, and I snap back to the present. “What?”

She laughs, green eyes lit up with the soft evening light. “I said I missed the cherry blossoms in Vancouver.”

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