Page 35 of Irresistibly Wicked

“So am I. If I’m going to be your husband, I want to make sure I fulfill all of my husbandly duties.”

She planted a hand on her hip. “We’re not having sex, so get that thought out of your head.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

“Hey, I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m happy to help, and I don’t expect you to sleep with me.”

She sighed. “I know you don’t.”

“But I’ve got to be honest. I knew what you meant when you asked if my offer was still good back at your place.”

“You did? Why didn’t you say so?”

He cocked a grin. “I wanted to hear you ask me to marry you.”

“Zander.” She smacked his chest, but she had to laugh, because she’d already learned that that was Zander. He had a way of making the heaviest times feel lighter. “Do you have any idea how hard that was for me to ask you?”

“Yes, but now you’re smiling, so it was worth it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Even if your smile is a little diabolical, like you’re considering hitting me for real.”

“I should hit you.”

“You’re a feisty one.” He waggled his brows. “I like it.”

“Good night, Zander.” She headed for the guest room.

“Nighty-night, almost wife.”

She glowered over her shoulder, and he blew her a kiss.

What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter Thirteen

ZANDER STOOD SHIRTLESS and barefoot on the beach behind his house, coffee mug in hand, watching the morning waves roll in as an app on his phone read him information from a website. He heard the patio door open, and something inside him lit up. Shauna. He was worried she’d change her mind about getting married, and he’d be right back to square one, trying to figure out how to convince her to let him help with Brian. His inclination was to turn around and ask if she had changed her mind, but he fought that urge, which was no easy feat for a guy who acted first and worried about repercussions later. But things were different with Shauna. She’d been through so much, he was determined to let her breathe this morning and ease her into that conversation.

“Good morning,” she said as he turned around. Her eyes widened, and she lowered her voice. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

“I’m not.” He ended the text-to-speech narration, drinking her in. Damn. His future wife looked hot in the morning. Her messy dark hair tumbled over the shoulders of her lavender sweatshirt, which covered all but the hem of her shorts. “I was just listening to something.”

“Oh, good.” Those dimples came out to play as she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. “Brr. Aren’t you cold?”

“Not anymore. Have you seen yourself in those shorts? I might have to buy you some baggy sweatpants…and a mask.”

“You’re into thunder thighs and masks? Okay, weirdo.”

“I’m the king of causing thunder between thighs,” he said arrogantly, chuckling at the eyeroll it earned. “And the mask is to cover that gorgeous smile of yours and those insane dimples. They’re too fucking cute, and don’t knock my future wife’s thick, juicy thighs. They saved my life.”

“Your future wife?” she asked carefully. “Does that mean you haven’t changed your mind?”

“Wickeds never back out of a deal.” He draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her against his side. “You’re stuck with me, Flores, and you’re stuck with this.” He handed her the coffee mug. “I tried your recipe of twelve parts creamer to one part coffee. I don’t know how you drink that shit.”

“Easy. I hate the taste of coffee, and I love everything French vanilla.”

“Guess that makes sense. Hold the mug between both hands. It’ll warm you up.”

“I’m already getting warmer. You’re like an oven.”