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“Oh,” he says when he takes in my green floral maxi dress with a thigh high split from hem to the spaghetti straps.
“Does it look okay?” I ask him while fidgeting with the straps. I turn around so he can see the backless design.
“It’s more than okay,” Theo says. “And we match.”
“We do,” I say with a smile. More than okay isn’t exactly the compliment I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. “I’m ready if you are,” I say as I grab my tiny purse that only holds my phone.
We head out and are on the elevator crammed in with several other resort guests when I think about the room key.
“Do you, um, have a key?”
“Of course,” Theo says as he stands behind me with his hand on my hip. As the elevator stops on another floor to let more people on, I hear his deep inhale.
“You smell really good,” he whispers against my ear. “Like vanilla, brown sugar, and…trouble.”
“Thanks.”
A second later, he curses under his breath, and his grip tightens on my hipbone.
“What?” I ask over my shoulder.
“There was something I needed to do when we get to the lobby but now, I can’t remember what.”
I laugh at that, happy that I’ve managed to distract his highly attentive, brilliant mind.
The elevator finally makes it to the lobby, and we start down the hall toward one of the restaurants with a lounge where we’ll have drinks and mingle after dinner.
I spot Kendall and Monty, then his brothers at the hostess stand, and have to do a double take at the group of men, unable to believe that one of the guys in a navy-blue suit has wavy, tousled, shoulder-length brown hair.
“He bought a suit?”
“Who?” Theo asks making me realize I must have said that out loud.
“He hates dress shirts, and he’s wearing a suit,” I remark quietly. As if hearing my comment, even though he’s more than ten feet away, Wyatt turns around and scans the restaurant a moment before his eyes land on me.
The top several buttons of his light blue shirt are undone, revealing his Japanese dragon tattoo, and his beard is a little shorter and tidier than it was at the airport.
“Kendall was right. It’s a good thing I came,” Theo mutters.
“What do you mean?” I ask, tearing my eyes from my ex’s blue eyes to my best friend’s hazel ones.
“You would’ve ended up in his room tonight, Maggie. And you would’ve regretted it.”
“No, I wouldn’t have,” I huff.
“He doesn’t deserve you. Not even for a minute, much less a single night,” he says. He reaches up and rests his hand lightly at the back of my neck in a possessive way I love, then presses a lingering kiss on my mouth.
“Our bed,” Theo says against my lips.
“What?” I ask when I open my eyes again, my mind slow on the uptake.
“I need to talk to the front desk about fixing our bed or giving us another room.”
“Oh, right.”
“The Crawford Ellis wedding party can now follow me to your table!” a man’s voice announces.
“After dinner,” Theo says and I nod, unsure if he’s referring to more than just talking to the hotel staff.