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“My face?”

“Very dirty expression you've got going on.”

I laugh and pull back.

“Congratulations on the win.”

“Thanks, babe.”

Then his gaze shifts over my shoulder.

His arms tighten slightly around my waist. “Coach.”

Oh.

Right.

Dad.

I’d almost forgotten he was standing there.

Dad clears his throat. “Quinn, I was thinking about making dinner on Sunday. You two should come over.”

He doesn’t wait for our answer but shakes his head as if to himself and starts walking away. “Sunday. Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“We’ll be there!” I call after him.

Wyatt waits until Dad disappears around the corner. Then he turns to me.

“Holy shit.”

I burst out laughing.

“I know.”

Wyatt looks genuinely impressed. “I think he likes me as his daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

He grins. “Give it time, Peachy. I’m incredibly charming.”

I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck. “You really are.”

***

We drive back to Wyatt’s place together.

“Pickles! No!”

The little menace barrels past me the second Wyatt opens the front door.

He launches himself at my legs, nearly sending me sprawling into the entryway.

“Jesus Christ, buddy.”

Wyatt drops his bag, and we both crouch down to scratch behind Pickles’s ears.

The dog wriggles so enthusiastically that his entire body practically folds in half.