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And it didn’t help that Champ was a giant tease who was determined to make me crack before he did.
Every morning, he slid past me in the hall on the way to the kitchen, all shower-damp and irresistible, and gave me a chaste kiss along with a “Sleep well, Gobble Muffin?” even though no one else was around to hear his ridiculous pet names.
He’d lean over my shoulder when I was calculating cost projections at the kitchen table as if the price of passed hors d’oeuvres fascinated him.
And every night, as soon as I shut my bedroom light off, he’d call me to ask an “emergency” question about what Marissa might have said during our pedicure night or to re-re-re-confirm my schedule for the following day, like he knew his voice in my ear would leave me wanting more of him… which it did.
Champ seemed to be enduring the dry spell just fine, but being so close without touching him was killing me. I should have been planning to capitalize on the new clients I’d signed and strategizing my triumphant return to Nashville, but instead, I was distracted at work and impatient with clients.
In short, I would have ended this fucking revirgination a week and a half ago…
Except I also knew this torment was only a taste of what I’d be in for when our fake-fiancé thing was over.
I was officially addicted to the man, and I had no idea what to do about that.
“If I can help with anything, just let me know,” Ava offered, and I gave her a warm smile, because honestly, she was so sweet.
Unfortunately, I was pretty sure there was only one person who could help me, and I was trying my damnedest to stop craving him.
“Thanks, but I’ve got things pretty well in hand in terms of wedding prep. We’ve got a couple crews out at Drakes Farm, and they’re doing a phenomenal job.” Partly thanks to Champ’s constant, hands-on supervision.
“I meant to help you, Quinn.” Ava’s smile softened. “You know, if you need to vent? Or if you need a pep talk?”
“Oh.” I blinked at her in surprise… just as my failsafe meeting alarm went off. “I can’t today, but another time, that would be awesome. Thank you.”
“Offer’s open, babe. See you Thursday night. Don’t forget it’s your turn to bring snacks. Oh, and don’t forget to find yourself an escort for the dance too, or else Cindy Ann is gonna take it upon herself, and I heard Jimbo Garvey from the Feed and Seed has been asking after you.” She winked and sailed out the door.
I snorted and scrubbed a hand over my forehead. It was a strange truth that the SnoBall meetings had become a highlight of my week these days. I was never gonna get used to this town, but there was never a dull moment.
The bell over the front door chimed, and I heard Ava greet someone on her way out. “Quinn! Your next meeting is here!” she called.
Twenty minutes early? Shit.
“Please take a seat! I’ll be right with you,” I called. I jumped out of my chair and grabbed my tablet, only pausing to pinch my cheeks and smooth my hair—
And then a body pressed up against me from behind, just like in my dream, while a pair of strong arms wrapped around me.
“Take your time. I’ll help myself,” Champ whispered into my neck.
Oh, fuck, that felt good.
Without conscious thought, I tilted my head, giving him better access. “I thought you were supposed to be supervising at the farm this morning.”
Champ made a noise of agreement. “I left a couple of my people in charge out there. Levi had to drive up to Nashville this morning because Marissa has some kind of dress fitting, and Tommy sent not one but four of his other goons to take Levi’s place. I can’t move out there today without bumping into one of them. Besides, Hercules missed you.”
Hercules barked excitedly, announcing his presence near my ankles.
“Hush,” Champ told him. “Go find your bed.” Without giving me room to move away, he bent down and unclipped the dog’s leash. Herc trotted off to the front room with a jangle of tags.
Champ straightened and wrapped his arms around me once again. He gripped one end of the leash in either hand and jerked the material flat against my stomach.
“Afraid I’ll try to run away?” I asked breathlessly.
“Maybe a little.” His tongue traced the edge of my ear, and I moaned. “Mmm. You smell good. Warm and sleepy. Were you napping?”
“No.” He nipped at my earlobe, and I squeaked. “Maybe.”
“No fair, sneaking in town to nap.” Champ’s grip on me tightened. “I haven’t slept well in days.”
“That’s awful,” I said breathlessly. “Any particular reason?”
Champ huffed out a laugh, and his thumbs hooked into my waistband—so close but so far from where I wanted them. “Say the word, Quinn, and this revirgination is over.”
