Wicked Dirty (Stark World 2)

No, it was only the paycheck that Lyle was looking forward to now, not the work. It had been a long time since he'd looked forward to the work.

How ironic that he was living his dream in the biggest way possible, and yet his world still fell flat.

Or, he amended as Sugar reached for his hand, i

t had been flat until she'd bounced into his life, all vibrant and thoughtful and genuine. She'd flipped a switch in him, and he didn't know how to turn it off.

For that matter, he didn't know if he wanted to.

19

By the time we get back to my house late Tuesday evening, I'm exhausted and sunburned.

As far as I'm concerned, we did Disney into the ground. We started the day at California Adventure, stuffing ourselves on fresh sourdough bread and tortillas inside the park even though we'd already had breakfast in the hotel.

We'd ooh'd and aah'd with the other passengers as we flew over the world on the Soarin' ride. And then we'd screamed ourselves hoarse when we were dropped from an astonishing height in the Guardian's of the Galaxy ride, where Lyle clutched my hand so tightly it still aches.

"I'm not a huge fan of being dropped from an insane height," he'd said calmly, once we were safely on the ground.

"Why did we ride it, then?"

He'd just smiled and shrugged. "We're here. We're doing Disney. And as far as I'm concerned, it's go big or go home, right?"

I agreed, and we'd followed that advice to a T.

All of which explains my exhaustion now that we're back in Venice. Not to mention my incredibly happy mood.

"This was such a great treat," I tell Lyle. "I needed a mini-vacation more than I can tell you."

"My pleasure," he says as he kills the engine in front of my house, then turns to me. "I enjoyed every single moment of it."

"Me, too," I say, then look down at my hands, unsure if the longing I hear in his voice is real or my imagination.

I want it to be real. Because the truth is, while I fully enjoyed the park, I enjoyed the company more.

I like the way he makes me laugh, the way we can talk. I like the way I feel when he touches me, even casually.

And I really like the anticipation that wells up inside of me when I'm with him--a delicious sort of craving that will be satisfied only when he touches me with intent.

Bottom line? I'm falling for him.

The problem? I'm an idiot. Because I'd intentionally and purposefully pushed him away the night of Wyatt's opening. Clearly, I'd been a shortsighted fool.

But he'd scored big points when he'd backed off with such sweet understanding. Hell, he'd been the perfect gentleman.

Now I'm thinking I'd like to see a little bit of a bad boy.

My fear is that by shutting him down once, I've shut him down forever.

Go big or go home may have applied where amusement park rides were concerned. But I'd had a different kind of ride in mind last night, and he hadn't made the slightest bit of an overture.

No big. No home. No nothing.

Nothing physical, anyway. Hand-holding, sure. And a few kisses when we were in public, because you never know who might be watching, and we were there as a happily engaged couple.

But none of that was real, as I very firmly reminded myself after each kiss. And after each time he gently wiped chocolate off my face, laughing at the way I succumbed to my love of frozen chocolate Mickey treats.

And after every time he held my hand or looked at me tenderly or even did something gentlemanly like drying my seat before I sat down in the Splash Mountain flume, even though we both knew it was just going to get wet again.