Page 39 of The Accidental Wife

“The weather is wonderful. How do you put the top down?” She says, looking around for the button to put the roof down to the car.

“It’s the blue button. Aren’t you worried about your hair getting messed up?” I question and she laughs, shaking her head.

“No! Are you kidding me? What better feeling is there than having the wind in your hair on a hot summer afternoon.”

“Air con,” I utter dryly while she pushes the button, and the top to my Maserati convertible opens.

“Loosen up and live a little, Hoult!” I watch Shayla as she lifts her arms, eyes closed, the most wonderful smile on her face while the wind blows her wavy dark hair back. I’m fascinated with her energy.

“Oh! I love this song!” I grin and shake my head when she turns the sound system up and starts dancing and singing the lyrics to me. “We fight, and we argue you’ll soon love me blind.” I laugh when she gives me a pointed look. “If we don’t fuck this whole thing up guaranteed, I can blow your mind. Mwah!” Shayla sings and leans over, grabs my face, and playfully smacks an audible kiss on my cheek. I can’t even begin to explain the feeling of peace and contentment that spreads within me whenever I am with this girl. You’d think we’ve been in each other’s lives for years when it's only been three weeks. “Hey grandma, put your foot on it.” She heckles, gesturing for me to drive faster. I was currently cruising at eighty miles per hour. “Show me what this bad boy can do!”

I grin at her, “Oh baby, buckle your sweet arse up.” I drawl and put my foot down, and the car goes from eighty to a hundred and twenty in a matter of seconds.

* * *

After an hour-long driveback to the city, we finally get back home. I unbutton the top three buttons to my shirt and fall back on the sofa with an exhausted sigh—what a long day.

Shayla makes a beeline to the kitchen, and I can hear her humming to herself as she opens the fridge. I scroll through my phone, checking my emails, when it's suddenly plucked from my hands. I tilt my head back and see Shayla peering down at me with a playful scowl on her face.

“No work today, Hoult.” She scolds, waving my phone at me. I stand up and look at her. She grins and retreats when I walk toward her.

“I need to check my emails really quick,” I say, reaching for it, but she shakes her head, pulling it away. I smile.

“It’s a Saturday. No emails, no business calls, nothing work-related—hey, eyes on me.” She says when I look over at my phone.

“Five minutes, then I’m with you.” I try to bargain, but she shakes her head and stuffs the phone down her top. I throw my head back and laugh out loud. “Do you think I won’t go in there and get it back?” I ask, and she shakes her head, taking a giant step back. “I will, and I’ll have a hell of a time doing it too. I promise you.”

“You dare,” She contests, and I bite my lip as I advance toward her. Shayla backs away slowly, her eyes trained on me, watching my every move as I walk toward her. I notice she’s about to back up against the refrigerator, and I grin. The moment she backs up against the surface of the fridge. I close in on her and place my arms on either side of her caging her in.

“Rookie mistake,” I mutter, and Shayla looks at my arms and then up at me. I bow my head, so we are at eye level and slowly lick my lips. “You should know better than to provoke me by now, Shayla. If I say I’m going to do something, I’ll do it.” I drop my gaze to her lips and back up again.

Shayla observes me closely when I reach up and drag my finger up and over her stomach, over the flowy white dress she was wearing. “Unlike you, I keep my promises,” I add, brushing my finger up the path between her breasts. I was silently wishing the dress she’s wearing was one of those that was low cut but instead, it was the type that tied at the neck.

She frowns, “What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks, affronted, and I smirk, dragging my finger along her collarbone.

“I believe you promised me a kiss, Miss Hart.” I remind her, and she licks her lips and smiles a little.

“And I kissed you, Mr Hoult.” She replies, mimicking my tone. I shake my head and bite my lip while brushing my fingers up her throat and to the back of her neck, where I gently pull the string to her dress, untying it.

“No, you chickened out. You made a promise, and you couldn’t keep it.” I tell her, my tone gruff as I brush the back of my fingers along her rosy cheek.

“I did not chicken out.” She claims, narrowing her eyes at me. “Your lip was cut and bleeding. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I told you I was coming for that kiss. My lip is all healed now. Will you make good on your promise, or will you make an excuse and run again?” I question, gazing into her eyes.

“Why do you want to kiss me so badly, Cole?” She questions while her eyes search mine, and I smile.

“Because…” I whisper, staring at her lips while I lift my hand and brush my fingers over her bottom lip lightly. “I vaguely remember kissing you while I was drunk, and it was intense. I’m curious to see if it would feel the same or if my inebriated mind had just amplified it.” I explain, and Shayla blinks. “Aren’t you the slightest bit curious too?” She clears her throat.

“One kiss.”

“One kiss,” I whisper, tilting her head up. I brush my fingers through her silky hair and draw her mouth close to mine.

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