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not, not a kiss. I just got here, and I’m about to call the police. Or maybe an emergency vehicle. I’ll either kill him or die from arousal. I’m not sure which.
“Making spaghetti and meatballs tonight,” he says. “That cool?” I wonder if I’ll be having his meatballs too.
“Yeah,” he says with a slow nod. “You make me panic. How are you surprised? I’m a mess for you.”
His thumb and forefinger turn my face to his. He brushes down the center of my chin before releasing me. And my chest is filled with something. Butterflies? Moths? Flesh-eating bacteria?
He whispers into my ear, strained and gritty, “I would do anything for you, if you’d let me.”
“I would wait forever for you,” he says.
He pauses, swallows, then says, “You are my undoing, Quinn Sauer.” “And you are full of shit, Landon Arden.”
“You are the best annoyance,” I say. He chuckles, low and husky and warm. “And you are my favorite misery.”
I’m not good at this whole fairy-tale thing, but I can try. I will attempt a happy ending for him.
“He’s a mess for you, you know,” Lorelei says. “A garbage bin of love.” “A trash bag full of smiles.” “A dumpster fire of feelings.”
“Quinn,” I say, “you will always be my queen. And don’t ever think you’re anything less.”
