Page 70 of The Beat Match

“You really do look beautiful, Annie.”

“You have a habit of ignoring my questions.”

He shrugged and nodded to the hostess, who led them to their table. Eyes followed them as they walked. She wasn’t sure if it was the dress, Wes’s commanding presence, or his recent Rosanna-related celebrity, but she felt like a bug under a microscope, albeit a nicely dressed bug. “Is it always like this when you’re out?”

They settled at their table. His Scotch appeared by his plate. “Like what?”

“Like you’re royalty. Everyone’s watching us.”

“They’re watching you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not the one who dated a wild socialite.”

“No. You dated a player who uses women and can’t be trusted.”

Low blow. “I told you, the second date was just as friends, and he’s your executive assistant. If he can’t be trusted, why’d you hire him?”

“I need strong people on my team. A hint of ruthlessness goes far in business. His personal life doesn’t impact work.”

“So you’re saying I’m a bad judge of character?”

He opened his mouth and closed it. Instead of replying, he laid his palm face up on the table. “Can we start this conversation over? You’ve got that pit bull look about you.”

“Now you’re saying I look like a dog?”

One corner of his lips tipped up, cocksure and handsome. “I’m saying you’re feisty and slightly savage when you’re annoyed. It’s sexy.”

The compliment mollified her. She liked him thinking of her as strong and feisty, but she was tired of Wes evading her questions, specifically why he felt she suddenly needed a twenty-four hour guard. If he continued his close-lipped nonsense, she’d have no choice but to seek answers elsewhere. Speak with Duncan, even though Wes had a bee in his bonnet about the guy.

Tonight, however, wasn’t the time or place. “I love this, by the way.”

Wes stretched out his legs until they touched hers. He traced circles on the back of her hand. “Love what?”

You, she wanted to say. She hadn’t been brave enough to speak the words again. She thought he felt the same as her, but it was hard to tell and harder to be so vulnerable in that uncertainty. “I love that we’re still us. We still fight and bicker. We’re us but better.”

“Bickering with benefits.” His free hand joined his other, stroking her hand and wrist.

The joke reminded her of Duncan’s antics. Wes really had that guy wrong. “So many benefits.”

He kissed her knuckles. “Tell me about your day. Has Joyce surpassed her piano teacher yet?”

Annie snickered, remembering how she’d left. “Sweet, old Joyce called me a cunt.”

They talked and joked and squabbled, legs brushing under the table, fingers touching between sips of wine and bites of food. Annie forgot about the people casting glances their way. She quit worrying about Wes’s work stress and intensive vigilance with her. They were an ordinary couple, dining in New York City, the infectious whir of chatter and music adding to their bubble of happiness.

At Wes’s apartment, her stunning dress didn’t stay on long. The public flirting had exacerbated their sexual tension, pushing them both to their limits. Wes devoured her body. She left bite marks on his chest and shoulders. They made love hard and deep, leaving them both sated and sweaty on top of his sheets.

“Let’s make music,” he said gruffly.

She grinned. “Count me in.”

Wes pulled on his sweatpants. The first he’d ever owned. She couldn’t afford to buy him designer suits, but he’d seemed pleased with the gift. The loose fabric hung deliciously off his hips, his toned behind so distracting it took three tries for her to slip her foot into her flannel shorts.

They shut themselves inside his sound room, headphones on, beats tripping through the equipment as they experimented. She no longer had to think when splicing phrasing. She felt the rhythmic changes, loved being the conductor of those harmonic frequencies: tones, notes, chords. Beauty through sound. The ease made blending songs easier. She could think ahead instead of playing catch up. Wes pointed to the line fader. She pushed it up slightly, boosted the track to get ready for the incoming beat. He dropped the new song. She tweaked the volume as they popped their bodies in time to the blending notes.

A seamless beat match.

Exactly how Wes and she had melded their lives: perfectly synchronized, stretching and adjusting to fit into each other’s worlds, whether bickering or laughing or making love. A harmonious relationship built on years of friendship.