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I blink, trying to push down the disappointment. But then another message quickly pops up.

I’m already home. Look out of the window. – West.

I walk over to the living room window that overlooks the driveway. Sure enough, there are headlights moving along the gravel path. My heart immediately starts to hammer against my ribcage.

Oh god, he’s early. And I’m not ready.

I shoot a panicked look at the chaos I’ve created. A half-empty popcorn bowl and a twisted blanket on the sofa, along with some smears of mascara on the white leather where I cried my way through the third act break up.

I was planning to tidy the house – and myself – up before he got home. But instead, I’m wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt. My hair’s in a top knot that could get me arrested in four states. There’s popcorn stuck on my thigh. And my legs are unshaven because I was planning to shower and get myself ready for him.

I’m supposed to be the wife of a rich, successful businessman, not his teenage babysitter who accidentally sat on a Snickers bar and forgot how razors work.

But there’s no time to do any of the things I’d planned. Because the front door is opening.

“Hi honey,” he calls out. “I’m home.”

I bite down a laugh.

“You’re early,” I shout back. “I haven’t even showered yet.”

His voice drifts down the hallway, low and rough. “That’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

Oh that smooth, smooth talker.

“Well, you’ll have to wait. I need ten minutes. Maybe twenty. I’m gross. I need to shave my legs and put on something sexy and?—”

“Eden.” He walks in the room and looks at me, making everything inside of me melt until I’m stupidly gooey.

“Come here,” he murmurs.

My heart skips. My legs move before I can think. I cross the room in a rush, throwing myself straight into his arms.

He catches me like he’s been waiting all day to do it.

And for the first time all night, everything feels exactly right.

“How was your day, darling?” I ask throatily, his fingers caressing my legs.

“Long. Busy. Too much work.”

“And you left early.”

He lifts a brow. “Wanted to make sure you weren’t cheating on me with that vibrator.”

I laugh. “Why buy hamburger when a hunk of steak is driving home to you in his Aston Martin?”

“I thought you didn’t eat meat.”

I bat my eyelashes at him. “I did last night.”

A flash of desire crosses his face. And for a minute I think about dragging him upstairs to show him just how much of a carnivore I can be. But then his stomach growls loudly.

I gently extricate myself from his hold, my bare feet landing on the wooden floor. “Have you eaten anything today?” I ask him.

“Not tonight.” He shakes his head. “Food truck leaves at six. And I didn’t have time to stop at the hotel.”

Because he wanted to see me. My throat tightens. “We have some vegan tamales left over. I’ll get you some.”