Even now, as we both get all dolled up to meet another couple out for dinner, I relish in the domesticity of it. This is something real couples do. Normal couples. Ones without a half who has to travel for weeks on end. It feels right. We’re just two people in our late twenties—him climbing rapidly toward a position as a senior editor, and me writing bestsellers—with a world of possibilities in front of us. I’m almost worried it’s too good to be true, but then there are moments like this, when he casually drops into conversation that he has watched me while I was gone. That he noticed something like my preferred wardrobe colors. When he catches me watching him over his shoulder in the mirror and winks at me. Such a small thing, that noticing, that wink, but indicative of something so much bigger.

Love? Maybe. We haven’t said it yet, but it sure feels like we could.

“Like what you see?” He tips up the corner of his mouth in a small smile, then does a three-sixty for me to see the whole picture.

“Always.” My sandals finally buckled, I push myself off the bed. I make sure to give my hips an extra sway as I walk slowly toward him, and I’m rewarded for it with a darkening of his eyes as I loop my arms around his neck.

“You’re remarkable,” he breathes into the space between us. “I still can’t believe you ever gave me the time of day.”

“It was your giant…vocabulary,” I tease. “They say size doesn’t matter, but the bigger, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

He chuckles, then trails a hand down my spine to cup my ass. Warmth floods my core, and I lick my lips in anticipation of their meeting his. He indulges me by tipping his face downward, kissing me innocently at first, but it’s not long before he’s dragging my bottom lip through his teeth. As he soothes the little sting with his tongue, I moan. He swallows it greedily, his hands roaming and exploring.

“This dress is doing things to me, Scarlett.” He kisses down my neck and bites gently where it meets my shoulder.

A delicious little shiver works its way down my body. “We’re going to be late if we do this now,” I caution.

He squeezes my ass, pressing me against the hardness between his legs. “I don’t give a damn.”

I groan. “I’m starting to care a lot less, but Ava will never forgive me if we ditch her.”

Ryan grumbles something incoherent but releases me. When I step back, he adjusts himself before rolling his shoulders to stand taller. His eyes are hooded when they meet mine again. I step up to straighten the tie I rumpled, and he smiles down at me.

“What?” I ask when he doesn’t speak.