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I smile in return as I lift my flute in the air toward Declan. “To the vacation I desperately needed.”
He begrudgingly grabs the other. “And the honeymoon I never wanted.”
I tap my flute against his. “Cheers!”

“It was wrong of me to make you work on your day off.”
I deflect with humor, hoping to ease the tight ball forming in my chest. “Yeah. You’re right. It was a total dick move.”
The moonlight highlights his small smile, making the whites of his teeth stand out. “You have such a foul mouth.”
“Is it just me or do you seem to have an unhealthy obsession with my mouth lately?”
“Who says it’s unhealthy?”

“Someone is mighty eager to get going today,” I call out to him after grabbing my backpack with all my supplies. The sun hasn’t risen yet, so I’m stuck sticking close by Declan’s side, using the lamps on the dirt path to guide us toward the meet-up location.
“The sooner we get out there, the sooner we get this over with.”
“Please keep your excitement to a minimum. I’m afraid the experience won’t live up to your hype.”

“It was stupid of me to say. I’m sorry.”
“You know how I feel about apologies.”
“Unless they’re blood sacrifices made in your honor, don’t bother.”

My chest aches for the children who grew up with such a cruel father. If only I could go back in time and throw a real punch.
Cal’s gaze narrows. “Don’t look at me that way. I don’t have nearly as many daddy issues as the other two.”
“That’s because you have a whole host of other problems.”
“It makes me layered.”
“No. It means you need to seek therapy.”

“I booked us a reservation for two at La Luna with a table overlooking the river. It took a lot of finagling to get one at the last minute, but I know a guy.”
“Does his name happen to be Benjamin Franklin?”
I grin. “Bribes work wonders. You taught me yourself.”

After days of limited contact, I feel starved for his attention.
Starved for his attention? Maybe you do have workplace Stockholm syndrome after all.

His access to my mouth isn’t taken for granted. He explores like a man on a mission, using his tongue as a brand onto my very soul.

Some men look like a dream. Others a nightmare. Declan happens to be a lethal combination of the two—beautiful in a way that should terrify me.

“You look…” He pauses.
“If you say nice, I swear I’ll make your death look like an accident.”
“ Devastating.”

“I don’t follow you around 24/7. There are plenty of things I might miss, like you struggling with a printer or harassing an innocent employee because they forgot to use Arial font in an email. I mean, come on, what did Times New Roman ever do to you?”
His scowl deepens. “It’s not my fault they can’t follow simple directions.”

“That was so much fun!” She takes a step toward the tables, but I pull her back.
“Not so fast.”
Her lips gape. “You want to keep dancing?”
I clutch onto one of her hands while my other finds the small of her back. “Yes.”
“I thought you always hated dancing at these things.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I could do this.” I pull her against me and place a soft kiss against her lips before retreating.

“Do you mind?” I snap when his chest brushes against my back.
“Your technique could use some work.” He assesses my breakfast with a scowl.
“Fine, Mr. Food Network. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”
“Did it hurt to swallow your pride?”
“Ehh. I’ve swallowed worse.”
His nostrils flare.
Iris: 1. Declan: 0.

He replies by nipping at the skin of my neck.
My next sentence comes out ragged. “What are you doing?”
“Helping my wife.”
My throat bobs. “You’re growing a bit too comfortable with that nickname for my liking.”
“I use it to remind you of your place.”
“And what’s that?”
“Mine.”

“Now you fill one side with your toppings.”
“Not both?”
His deep chuckle rattles my bones. “Greedy as always.”
“More like famished.”
“That makes two of us,” he replies huskily as he presses his hips into my ass.

“Are you insane?”
“When it comes to you, that was never a question.”

I found my newest addiction, and it happens to be my fake husband.

I could spend forever being kissed like this and still feel like it isn’t enough. While Declan might not be the best with words, his kiss says it all.
He is falling in love with me. No translation necessary.

The way this man looks at me makes me wonder if it’s possible to get pregnant via intense staring and palpable longing. Inquiring minds want to know.