Page 67 of The Beat Match

“We’re good. I might still get frustrated and sad about Leo. I might need space occasionally while I deal with everything, but nothing changes this.” She gestured between them. “Nothing comes between us. Unless you’re worried about Rosanna and the fake-dating thing.”

He dragged his hand through his sex-mussed hair. “The Rosanna angle went bust today, but even if it hadn’t, I would’ve put a stop to it. Whatever happens from here on out, we’re together, publicly and privately. There will be no other women but you, and I’ll do my best not to panic about my…issues. And you won’t be going on any more dates with Duncan. I don’t even like you talking to the guy.”

“You can’t dictate who I talk to.”

“No, I can’t.” He focused on the floor for a beat. “But I get irrationally jealous when I see you with him.”

She rubbed her sternum, surprised by her racing heart. “That night at Angelonia, Duncan and I were only out as friends. He’s nice and I like him, and I plan to stay friends with him, but I promise you I’m not interested in anything more with him. And thank you for ending the ruse with Rosanna. I was pretty jealous over her, too. But what about your father?”

His glanced up sharply. “What does my father have to do with us?”

Their eavesdropped conversation the night she’d told Wes she had to switch foster homes seemed like forever ago, but she’d never forget Victor S. Aldrich’s harsh words. Her mother died with a needle in her arm. Her father is some miscreant who disappeared. Her brother got shot in a seedy club. She’s not welcome in this house. “Your father’s not my biggest fan. He won’t be happy we’re dating.” Something she hadn’t considered while pining for Wes.

“My father doesn’t get a say in this.”

“Your father’s a coldhearted man who only cares what people think.”

Wes’s nostrils flared. “Don’t give him another thought. All that matters is us.” He brushed her hair back tenderly. “Anything you need from me, you ask. It’s yours.”

She wished Weston’s father didn’t still unnerve her, but the man was as warm and fuzzy as an ice cube. She’d have to trust Wes in this. “I need you to take care of work so we can have fun tonight. I’ll try not to be too late.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He tried to tug her closer, but she shoved him back. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Don’t tease me with dirty promises.”

She gave him a wink and headed for the door but glanced back. She wanted to say those words one more time, even if he couldn’t say them back yet or didn’t feel the same: I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t wait to kiss you again. But Wes had his phone in his hand, a vicious frown marring his face.

His head flew up. “How did you get here?”

“I took the subway…why?”

“I’ll have a driver take you home. He’ll bring you to work and drive you to my place after. If you have to go out before then, let him know.”

She pulled her fallen strap up her shoulder and folded her arms around her middle. “I thought we were done with you bossing me around.”

“Bossy is in my DNA.” When she didn’t reply, he said, “Let me do this. I’ll be worried about you otherwise.”

“I’m pretty handy with my subway card and Uber app. I’m adept at taking care of myself.”

“It’s not about your independence. It’s about my…issues.” His gaze kept flitting to his phone, that vicious frown returning.

“Is something wrong?” Or was he suddenly that concerned something would happen to her? His fear of loving and losing.

He shook his head slightly. “Just work stuff I need to deal with.” He lifted his phone as though that was proof he wasn’t acting strange. “A car will meet you downstairs. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

Going with his odd flow, she blew him a kiss and left his office.

Marjory took one look at her and laughed. “Do I need to disinfect that room?”

Cheeks burning, Annie checked that her dress was on straight. She forced her eyes on Marjory. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Likely story. Do we get happy-yet-broody Weston back now?”

Annie glanced at his closed office door, stymied by his reaction to whatever had been on his phone. He hadn’t cared about driving her around until he’d checked his texts. His request could have been a delayed reaction, but it didn’t sit right. “Is there something weird going on at work?”

Marjory rolled her chair back. “Weird how?”