“Glad you like it,” I murmur, watching him. “Like it? I’m ready to fucking marry you if you promise to make these for me every day.” “I’m not wife material, Colt.” His eye twitches, and I instantly regret my words. Dammit, Ava, way to ruin everything. But it’s Colt. This guy is my personal undoing. “You’re confident and independent, yes. But the way you purr when I’m taking care of your needs, and how submissive you can be…I’d say you’re wife material—in the right arms.” I hide my silly smile behind my juice glass, taking a sip.
