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CHAPTER 8

FRANKIE

We stay tangled up for a full ten minutes before either of us remembers that the rest of the world exists. Seth holds me so tightly my lungs barely work, but I have zero complaints. The inside of his office smells like coffee, engine grease, and now a heavy note of sex, which is honestly an upgrade from the last place I worked. My panties are MIA, my hair’s a disaster, and there’s a literal handprint on my ass.

I’m the one who comes back to reality first. It’s a combination of the glass walls, the faint sound of air tools, and the low whine of a pneumatic ratchet. If any of his crew happened to glance up here just now, they’d be in for a hell of a show. I shift in his lap and feel him still half-hard under my thigh. He smirks, not even a little bit ashamed.

I tap my finger on his chest, right over the tattoo peeking out from under his collar. “You’re really gonna spend the whole day hiding up here with me?”

He grins wider, biting my earlobe. “Fuck yes, I am.”

I laugh and push myself up, fixing my glasses so I can see the damage. My lipstick is smeared up to my nose, and my bra is still unsnapped. “Will the shop survive without you?”

He nuzzles into my neck, totally unconcerned. “They can live without me for however long it takes.”

“For however long what takes?” I twist around, squinting at him.

He looks at me, and the look in his eyes melts my insides. “However long it takes for me to tie your little ass to me for life.”

I blink. “Oh.”

“It’s all I need,” he says, and I can tell he’s not bullshitting. He really means it. “You’re my plan.”

I want to roll my eyes, but instead I start to blush. My family would say it’s all an act, but I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anything that made my heart hammer this hard. “I like that plan.” I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.

He sees my face and leans in, suddenly a little more serious. “Too fast?”

“Are you kidding?” I say, which buys me a second to reboot my brain. “It’s way the heck too fast, but I guess that’s my thing because I’m on board with it.”

He grins again, and I can’t help grinning back. He’s so damn hot, even when he’s being a dork. Especially then, honestly.

Then he says, “It’s fucking stupid to keep paying for that room when I’ve got plenty of space at my house.”

This is the part where I’m supposed to freak out, but honestly, it makes perfect sense. Silver Spoon Falls isn’t exactly crawling with hotel options, and my bank account has already started bleeding out.

I clear my throat and aim for casual. “You mean, like, move in?”

He doesn’t blink. “Yeah. I want you to move in with me more than I want my next breath.”

“Okay,” is all I’m able to get past my dry throat. I actually want the same thing. It’s crazy, but meeting Seth changed something in me, and I don’t ever want it to change back.

“Good,” he says, and the way he says it makes my stomach do a barrel roll. “I want you in my bed. Every night.”

This is real. This is happening. And for once in my life, I don’t want to run away from it.

We barely make it out of the office with all our clothes on. Seth grabs my hand like he’s afraid, and the second we’re in the parking lot, he crowds me up against the classic Mustang. The metal is still sun-hot, and it sears my bottom through my skirt, but I don’t care. His mouth is on my neck, his hands are everywhere, and we’re making out like horny teens behind the gym. I’m pretty sure one of his employees wolf-whistles from the shop door, but Seth just flips them off over his shoulder without breaking the kiss.

“We’re giving them quite a show today,” I pant when I finally manage to surface.

He doesn’t even pretend to feel bad. “They’ll just have to get used to it.” He runs his tongue along my collarbone, and I forget all about his employees and the show we’re giving.

We end up stumbling into the Mustang, and I spend the drive to the hotel half on his lap, his right hand glued to my thigh while he steers one-handed. He kisses my knuckles at every red light. It’s so freaking crazy, and I know my parents would have a stroke if they could see me now. Oh, freaking well. I’m living my life the way I want to, and they can just deal with it. Or not.

The Silver Spoon Inn rears up in front of us, all stately brick and old money attitude. The bellboy barely glances up from his phone as we sweep through the glass doors.

Seth’s hand stays glued to the small of my back, not even trying to be subtle about it. I know it’s part possessiveness, part muscle memory from all the places he’s had his hands on me in the last twenty-four hours. The hotel AC blasts us with a wall of recycled, way-too-scented air. The desk clerk—the same one from yesterday with the fuchsia lipstick—is already watching us, waving as Seth steers me toward the elevator.

We ride up in charged silence. I’m grateful it’s just us. His hand never leaves my waist, and I’m ready to jump his bones right this second.