Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

“You started it. Calling me my mother was fighting words.” I walked through the water to her and helped her wipe her face and push her hair back. “You look cute.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” I bent down and kissed her, tenderly. “I find you cute. Adorable. Beautiful. Sexy. Delicious.”

Leah put her hands on my waist and kissed me back. “You can be very sweet, did you know that? In between times when you suck.”

That made me laugh softly. “That sounds about right.” Leah would never falsely flatter me, that was for sure. I thought of other women I’d dated, who’d blown smoke up the rich guy’s ass and knew there was zero comparison with Leah. My money didn’t impress her.

“Let’s try the lift again. We have to get this right for our wedding.” Leah gave me a smirk.

“It’s going to be a fantastic wedding, that’s for damn sure. I want hot air balloon rides.” It wasn’t going to happen, so I could have whatever I would want.

She raised her eyebrows. “It’s a wedding, not a circus.”

“Isn’t a wedding a circus?”

“Solid point. Then I want a cotton candy machine.”

“That’s easy. I also want food trucks. One, because I like tacos. Two, because it will drive my mother insane.” We were talking about it like it was real, but it wasn’t so it was actually very freeing. I had never once given any thought to what I would want at a wedding, because I was never planning to get married, but it was ironic how readily ideas were coming to me.

“How about a signature cocktail called the Greah? It’s our names put together.”

“That sounds unappealing as hell, but if you want it, go for it.”

“Well, the other option is the Lant, and that sounds even worse.”

“That is worse. How about a signature cocktail that is something about us, not our names? Like The Purple Slipper for yours and Tall, Dark, and Handsome for mine.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “More like Poodle Skirt for me and The Pancake for you.”

“Uh, no. I heartily endorse Poodle Skirt for yours but I veto The Pancake for me. I want to sound more badass than that.”

“How about The Bad Boy?”

“That makes me sound seventeen.”

“You’re very picky.”

“I am.” I ran my finger over her bottom lip, feelings of possessiveness rising strong and sure. “That’s why I chose you.”

Her eyelashes swept down, in a move that wasn’t what I expected from Leah. “Grant,” she murmured.

“What?” I tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at me.

“It’s not real,” she said, her voice a whisper, her eyes filled with something that made me know she was my future.

She felt it too. It was there in her dark eyes.

Willpower be damned. She’d taken mine and shattered it.

“Leah. It’s real. You know it is. I know it is.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “What’s real?”

“You. Me.” I pulled her closer against me in the pool, the room silent except for the hum of the filter and Leah’s nervous breathing. “What’s happening between us. It’s real and I want to be with you. Date you. Spend time with you. Love you.”