“MAKE A WISH.”
We sat on Wyatt’s front porch that evening, watching the sunset splash breathtaking colors across the sky. He held a cake, tiny flames dancing on the candles. His loving grin and the warmth in his eyes made my heart flip in my chest.
“I don’t have anything left to wish for,” I told him, biting my lip. I let out a little laugh. “I don’t know why I was so worried about turning thirty.”
Instead of making a wish when I blew the candles out, I thanked the universe for giving me everything I wanted. All the flames went out except one, and Wyatt’s eyes flared with mischief.
“One boyfriend who loves you.” He winked.
“One boyfriend who loves me,” I whispered, matching his smile.
He set the cake down and cut each of us a piece. I took a bite and hummed with satisfaction.
“What kind of cake is this?”
“Champagne.”
We exchanged a grin, and I knew he was thinking of the beer bong night at the bar with Carter, too. He reached behind him and pulled a gift bag forward.
“Ready for your gift?”
I nodded eagerly, clasping my hands together. He set the bag on the porch between us and I reached in.
My hand closed around a box, and when I pulled it out and saw what it was, my eyes were saucers. “Wyatt!” My voice was a high squeak and he laughed.
His gaze raked me with roguish amusement and my face heated. “You like it?”
“You got me a sex toy?” I whispered the word and he laughed harder. It was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand and hot pink. Seven stimulating suction settings! the package boasted. It explained how the toy would apply suction pressure to my clit. I swallowed and a wave of heat hit me between my legs.
“Come on, bookworm.” His voice was low and teasing and his eyes were full of something hot. “Be brave with me.”
I bit back a smile. We’d put his gift to use later. I reached back into the bag and pulled out something flat and rectangular, wrapped in tissue paper. When I tore the paper away, my heart shot into my throat.
It was her and me in front of the bookstore. Her brilliant smile shone through the photo as she smiled at me, propped on her hip. I was a baby. I had a fistful of her hair, trying to eat it, and she was laughing.
My hand came to my heart. The way she looked at me in this picture, how could I ever think she’d be disappointed in me?
I met Wyatt’s warm gaze and sighed. “Thank you.”
He nodded and reached for my hand. It was the little touches like that, wasn’t it? Wyatt noticing I liked champagne and having a cake made in that flavor. Wyatt buying me something sexy because he knew it would make me feel good. Wyatt finding the perfect present that showed me he saw me.
How could I ever have thought Wyatt wasn’t the right guy for me? He was the perfect guy for me.
“Professor?”
“Yeah, bookworm?”
“Kiss me.”
