Page 11 of Lycans & Lattes

“Wait,” he rasped, more to himself than to me. He took a giant step back but planted his hands on either side of my thighs on the countertop.

I panted, feeling elated and giddy as I touched my swollen lips.

“I’m sorry.” The wild need in his eyes told me more than his words. “Sorrier than you know. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long, long time.”

I knew he was restraining himself, and a loud part of me wanted to scream at him to keep going and never stop. Until he nudged the hair from his eyes and the light caught on his elongated canines. We were approaching a danger zone, and warning alarms were going off in my head.

“Oh yeah?” I taunted, and he gave me a look. “So why didn’t you?”

“Reasons. Complicated reasons,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ones I should’ve given you years ago, but I didn’t want to scare you away or change what we have.”

“Tell me now,” I demanded, reaching down to his forearm and feeling the goose bumps rise under my touch.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I want to. But not here. Not tonight.”

I looked around at the empty café. “Uh. Okay, well . . .”

“Go out with me. I want to take you on a real date.”

A real date.

“And what if I say no? Would you tell me what you need to say now?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to, but if I stay any longer . . .” His gaze trailed to my lips and stuck. We both knew exactly what would happen. “I’ve been thinking about this moment for four years. I want to do this right. You deserve to be wooed properly.”

I wanted to tell him that I already felt pretty fucking wooed by that incredible kiss, but instead I just answered, “Fine. When and where are you taking me on our first official date?”

He finally stood up straight, putting some much-needed distance between our humming bodies. “Apple picking. Then dinner. Eloise promised to make you a dozen donuts if you say yes.”

Warmth bloomed in my chest.

In that moment, I knew two things: One, Wyatt knew how much I wanted to go apple picking because I talked about it every year but never had the support staff to leave for the whole afternoon. Two, his sister’s apple cider donuts could win me over in less than one date.

My smile stretched wider because he understood me like no one else—apart from being completely clueless about how into him I was.

“Apple picking sounds good,” I said instead.

He leaned in, cupped my cheek, and gave me the most panty-melting smile. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow after my morning deliveries.”

“Pick me up?” I cocked my head. “The orchard is two blocks back. I could just meet you there.”

He shook his head, and the shag of blond brushed over his brow. “Not a chance,” he replied with a smug smirk. “I can’t let you talk yourself out of it.”

My jaw snapped shut. He really did know me a little too well.

“We’ll walk there together,” he said. “It’s a date, after all. The first of many, I hope.”

“I hope so, too,” I admitted.

He stared at me wistfully, his eyes dropping to my lips again as he said, “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I thought he would kiss me goodbye, but instead he planted a soft peck on the top of my head before rushing out the back door and shouting, “Lock this behind me.”

Huffing out my sexual frustration, I locked up and forced myself to clean up my paperwork and head to bed.

Would it have been so terrible if we’d slept together tonight?

Yes, Willow. Calm your clam. He wants to make this special, I reminded myself over and over during the coldest shower of my life.

My skin was on fire, and my vibrator was doing nothing to quell the need. But what did I expect after four freaking years of edging?