Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

“I do love seeing that little green-eyed monster pop out, though.”

She sputtered a half laugh. “Please. Don’t get all cocky on me. It was one time.”

“I don’t know what math you’re using, sugar, but by my count it was more like four—or more—times.”

“Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes and turned away, spreading the résumés out on the counter, but his words brought memories spilling back along with the sensations he’d created in her body.

Wyatt came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her body up against his. He used his chin to push her hair aside and kissed her neck. Gypsy’s eyes closed and a sound lifted from her throat against her will. His hands slid over her stomach, her hips.

His lips moved up her neck and behind her ear. “What do you say we round that off to an even dozen tonight?”

Her body screamed Yes, let’s.

Damn, she wanted to. Really, really wanted to. And that sent a tingle of fear straight up her spine. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore, what she was feeling for him went way past fun.

“I can’t.” Those words had never felt so hard to say. “I’m working, and I have to call these people to set up interviews.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder. He felt so good behind her, his chest against her back, his generous package against her ass, thighs against thighs. After the way he’d made her feel in the back of his truck, half-dressed, she couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d do to her naked in bed.

“Already handled,” he murmured at her ear.

She turned her head to look at him, and he took the opportunity to kiss her again.

Before she could ask, he said, “They’ve all been scheduled for interviews tonight. First one shows in about an hour.”

“What? No. I’m bartending, and Cooper—”

“I’ve got it covered. Dylan and Emma are going to take Cooper and Belle, and I heard it’s celebrity bartending night. So, while you’re choosing your right hand, I’ll man the bar.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ve got it all worked out.” He gave her a squeeze. “I’ve got you, sugar.”

Emotion came in a rush. She couldn’t remember the last time someone took the weight off her shoulders like this. Miranda and Dylan were great about taking Cooper when Gypsy had to work, but this was different and felt like so much more.

Gypsy turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This is… I can’t even begin to…”

“I know.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s hard doing it all yourself.”

All her breath whooshed out, and she pushed up to her toes to kiss him. Wyatt groaned before he pulled away with a smile. “If I’d known all it would take to get a taste of you was a celebrity bartender, I would have pulled in a few favors. Garth and Keith are a killer duo behind the bar.”

Gypsy laughed and kissed Wyatt again. “Your ass is way cuter than either of theirs.”

15

The bar was so loud, Wyatt couldn’t hear himself think. He added two Tom Collinses and two whiskey sours to one of the cocktail waitresses’ tray.

“I’m calling it,” he said, glancing at his watch. It was not quite two a.m., but it felt even later. “If people want drinks, make ’em come up to the bar.”

Shannon, a long-legged, slim brunette, heaved a sigh. “My savior.”

He understood. The bar had been so packed, people could barely move around. Wyatt had been here enough to know this wasn’t the usual situation. Sure, Gypsy’s was one of the hottest bars on Broadway, but this kind of crowd wasn’t the norm.

Word had spread that Wyatt was bartending. A free show for anyone who wanted to wander into Gypsy’s. He’d taken breaks to perform a few songs on stage before returning to the bar. But even then, he’d gotten everyone to sing along without music. In truth, he’d had a lot of fun, and his publicist would pee her pants when she heard about this little impromptu situation. In many ways, bartending felt like a damn vacation to him after a week of putting Belle to bed.

Wyatt put two fingers in his mouth and whistled over the noise. “Last call. You want one for the road, you come get it at the bar.”

The swarm of people eddied, some starting for the exit, some headed toward the bar.