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“Thought we established that I give good compliments.” He winked. “Seriously, Duchess. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I slept. Kind of.”
I unlocked my car and Bones opened the driver’s side door for me. “What do you mean kind of?”
“I mean I fell asleep on the couch and the next thing I remember Charlie was waking me up from a nightmare. And instead of going back to sleep right away, we stayed awake for a while. I crashed again around seven this morning.”
Before I could climb into the seat, Bones reached out and cradled my cheek in his hand, his thumb stroking my skin. “You ready to talk about it?”
I shook my head.
“Okay.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. It was deeper than a hello kiss. It was an I-want-you-but-I’m-going-to-tease-you-into-wanting-me kiss. It was a kiss I wanted to fall into. It was a kiss that made me forget he wore leather, rode a motorcycle, and had tattoos.
It was a kiss that made me want to ask him to spend the night with me, so I didn’t have to be afraid of the dark.
I gently pressed my hand against his chest and pushed him away. “We’re going to be late.”
“I don’t mind being late,” he whispered huskily.
A shiver danced down my spine and desire pooled in my belly.
“My world, my rules. And in my world, we are punctual to appointments.”
He stepped back and waited for me to get into the car before closing my door. Then he went around to the other side and climbed in. He adjusted his seat to give his long legs room to stretch out.
“You never texted me back last night.”
“I didn’t?” I buckled myself in.
“You know you didn’t.”
“Should we go over these rules?” I asked him, shooting him a flirty look.
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Nah. I think I’ll let you surprise me.”
The temperature in the car felt like it suddenly spiked.
I cleared my throat. “We need to go.”
“You’re the one driving, Duchess. Unless you want me to drive because you’re so flustered you can’t see straight?”
“I’m not flustered.”
He laughed. “Okay. Just don’t crash. I actually want to see what I look like in a tux.”
Bones looked majestic in a tux. Even a tux off the rack that didn’t fit him properly.
“Not too shabby,” Bones said as he looked at himself in the mirror. “I might pass for a gentleman.”
“God, I hope not,” I blurted out.
I met his gaze in the mirror.
“I mean, I like the way you look,” I amended. “The tux is a nice change. I was correct though. You’re going to need a custom tux.”
“You’re right,” Mr. Ambrose said. “His arms and shoulders are too muscular for that coat. I can take material away, but I can’t add it and keep the bespoke look.”
“And the pants don’t hang correctly,” I added. “We have an event in two weeks. Will we be able to make it happen?”
