Page 46 of Wade’s Wrath

“Me too.” She bent down for the clipboard, and Wade reached for it at the same time. Their fingers brushed, and Harlow tensed. It wasn’t from fear this time, but something else—something she couldn’t quite name yet. Their eyes met, and Wade slowly straightened. So did she, and the stockroom suddenly felt much smaller. She remembered the clubhouse porch and what he said to her. If you still want me when this shit settles down, you won't have to ask twice.

She still wanted him, which was completely ridiculous given what had just happened between them. Nothing had settled down—not even close. Wade apparently remembered too because his eyes dropped to her mouth and Harlow's pulse jumped.

“You're doing it again,” she whispered.

“Doing what?” he asked.

“Looking at my mouth,” she said.

“Hard not to,” he admitted.

Heat curled low in her stomach. “You said⁠—”

“I remember what I said,” he growled.

“Then stop looking at me like that,” she whispered.

Wade's gaze lifted to hers. “You want me to stop?” he asked. She wanted to tell him no—absolutely not. She wanted to tell him to kiss her, but she was a chicken.

“Yes, I want you to stop,” she breathed. Coward.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You hesitated.”

“I did not,” she insisted.

“Definitely did.” He stepped around her, and Harlow released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Wade stopped beside her, just close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.

“Just so we're clear, runaway bride.” She glared at him, and he leaned slightly closer. “When I finally kiss you, you're not gonna have to wonder whether I meant to or not.” Her entire body heated as Wade walked away.

Harlow stared after him. “Asshole,” she muttered. His laughter carried back from the hallway, and she smiled despite herself. God help her, because when it came to that man, she was a complete goner.

The bar opened at four, and by six, Harlow understood why Wade had questioned whether she could pour whiskey into a glass. Bartending looked significantly easier from the customer side of the bar.

“You over poured,” Wade shouted over the music.

“I did not,” she insisted.

Wade picked up the glass she'd just poured. “This is supposed to be one shot.”

“It is,” she lied.

“This is damn near two,” he growled.

“The customer won't complain,” she countered.

“The owner will.”

Harlow glared at him. “Do you want me to learn or not?”

“Yep,” he said.

“Then stop hovering,” she insisted.

“I'm training you.”

“You're breathing down my neck,” she spat.

His eyes flickered. “Could breathe somewhere else.” The way he said it sent heat across her skin as she thought about all the places she wanted him to breathe on.