Igniting the Wild Sparks (14 page)

This is going to be a rough dinner.

CHAPTER 8

Finn pulls my car into the restaurant parking lot and I immediately jump out, barely waiting for him to turn off the ignition. The tension in the car is unbearable, not having said a word to each other for the seven-minute trip.

Getting out of the car, I glance at him as I smooth my blouse. Sparks looks absolutely d
ivine in a long-sleeve, white dress shirt with the top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. My gaze falls to his black pants and I smile. He dressed to match me. Even if it was inadvertent, I want to nail him in the backseat of my car right here in the parking lot.

Settle down, Beckett
!

As he stands waiting for me,
I notice he shifts his fervent gaze from me to a nearby tree. I feel so bad for not telling him what my problem is, but I couldn’t. He would’ve taken full advantage of the situation and I would’ve undoubtedly allowed him to.

When I reach him,
I hold my hand out and he glances down at it, yet doesn’t take it. Letting my arm fall to my side, I pivot to face him. “What’s going on, Sparks?” Not that I don’t already know.

His brown
eyes narrow and drag over my face. “I’m wondering the same thing about you. You’re acting weird. Did I do something?” He thinks the way I’m acting is his fault? Now I feel even worse. “Are you not feeling up to being here tonight? If not, we can go home right now.”

Unconsciously,
I glance down to his lips and answer, “I’m fine.” Fine. Sure. I want to unzip his pants and bring him to life right here between these two cars. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Don’t lie to me, Becks. There’s something going on with you.” His voice is harder,
forcing me to swiftly look up to see the flash in his unblinking glare. Shit. It feels as if he can see straight through me.

I
shakily sigh. “I… I’ve missed you. I’d rather be snuggling with you on the couch than to be here. Okay?”

As if a dark cloud has passed, his face
brightens and a crooked smile threatens his lips. “Let’s go home then.” No, I can’t let him do that, but I want him to…

“I need to be here for Morgan.
You and I will be alone in a little while.”

He protests,
“It’s not soon enough.”

I try holding out my hand again. “Come on, Sparks. We can do this.”

This time, he does take my hand and as I turn to walk to the restaurant, he says, “Wait.” Turning back to look at him, he tugs my hand, hauling me to him and when I look up, his lips descend to mine. I eagerly reciprocate; our hunger for each other greater than any food they serve here, no doubt. Moving my hand to his chest, I find his key in his open collar and hold it, resting my fingers against his skin and feeling his thundering heart.

Between kisses, he appeals, “Baby, I want to go home.”

Releasing his necklace, I stroke his cheek. “Me, too. Let’s go get this over with so we can.”

A
mazingly, I’m able to not give in to him. I grab his hand and pull him to the restaurant. As he lets me tow him, he sighs and thrusts his hand into his hair, making it messier and so much harder to resist staring at him.

When not checking out Finn, the hostess takes us to Morgan and Ivan’s table, and they smile as we approach. I take a seat across from Morgan
and she leans forward with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I was just telling Ivan about your dress.”

I glance at Ivan and he grins. Panicked, I look to her and
whimper, “Oh no. You didn’t! Morgan…!”

“Yep! Check your woman out, Finn.” She hands him her phone, but I’m quicker
, snatching it from him, and I speedily figure out how to delete the picture.

Smiling at my success,
I offer her phone back to her. “Gone.”

“Hadley!” Morgan whines.

Finn complains with a frown. “I don’t get to see it?”

“Nope.”

When the waitress asks what we’d like to drink, Finn and Ivan each order a Scotch. It’s a good thing we brought my car since I can’t drive his. I order lemonade to keep Morgan company and to stay sober. Sparks is already starting the hard shit. I hope he isn’t planning on getting completely wasted or he’ll be sleeping on the couch, or the floor. Wherever he lands.

Morgan says to Finn, “You’ll want to see the dress. There’s hardly any material to it.”

He looks at me rather dubiously. “Really? I don’t believe that. You won’t usually wear anything too revealing.” I did at the club! He sure doesn’t complain about the lacy things I wear for him, either.

Morgan continues,
“Oh, she didn’t want to, but I threatened her that she’ll be stuck dancing with Shane and Rod all night. Two of her
favorite
hunks.” She laughs and I roll my eyes. Finn grimaces at her statement and glances toward the bar, probably wondering where his alcoholic crutch is.

Ivan dissents, “Shane isn’t
that
bad. You make it sound like he’s some sort of beast. He’s actually a nice guy and fun to be around. He likes Hadley.” My eyes fearfully widen and he smiles. “He says nice things about you. So go easy on him.”

We’re interrupted when the
waitress brings our drinks and takes our orders. Once she leaves, I take a sip of my lemonade. “Nice is not a word that comes to mind when I think of Shane. I’ll have to do enough dancing with him for the bridal dances. I don’t have a problem dancing with Rod since he’s my regular dance partner.”

Morgan shakes her head. “But with that dress you’ll be wearing, you might want to keep it to only slow dancing with Rod. No bending backwards or he’ll get an eyeful.”

“Yeah. You won’t be bending over for Rod or I’ll be snapping his neck,” Sparks grumbles into his glass.

I huff, “I certainly
won’t
be flashing anyone there.”

Setting down his glass, Sparks
inclines his head to mine, whispering, “Except for me.” His voice and his cologne, even his hair, are driving me insane with desire for him.

Morgan laughs and I try to focus on her instead of my smok
ing hot boyfriend. “Finn, if you can’t make it to our wedding, I will be sure to get plenty of pictures of her wearing it for you.”

He nods as he caresses his tumbler of Scotch.
“Definitely.” Unexpectedly, he leans down, angling his head, and playfully tries to bite my neck. I giggle and push him away; though not wanting to since his warm lips feel so damn good on my skin. When I sit up, he leans in again, but instead, whispers in my ear, “I want to see what’s
under
your dress more.”
Oh, shit
. I’m not going to make it the short drive home, let alone the rest of dinner. I want to sneak him into the restroom and have loud sex with him. I tersely inhale and take a drink of my lemonade as he moves away.

Morgan bounces
in her chair. “I can’t wait for the wedding! We got so much taken care of today. The hotel’s ballroom is going to be totally gorgeous decorated in blue and silver. They’re even providing matchbooks with our names on them for the favors, but we’re also adding our own. I found a place that personalizes shot glasses with our names and date. Isn’t that so cute?”

I smile and impassively nod. “I love it.” I nudge Sparks
and my hand brushes his, making me practically splutter, “Wouldn’t that be cool to get a shot glass as a wedding favor?” He generically nods as he lifts his drink, monotonously replying, “Awesome.”

Unexpectedly, he
captures my hand and sweeps it away to the inside of his upper thigh, leaving my hand dangerously close to what I want, deliberately teasing me.

Ivan laughs. “It’s not like we can’t drink out of
the shot glasses anyway. They’ll be stored in a cabinet or a shelf and we won’t be allowed to touch them ever again.”

Morgan
speedily twists in her seat so she can look at him. “I thought you said you liked the shot glasses!”

He shrugs. “I do, but they’re not very useful.”

Finn says, “I’ll remember to bring my own then.” He plays with my fingers, inching them temptingly closer, but then away. Why is he making this so much worse? Is it payback for making him sit through this dinner?

Picking up her drink,
Morgan shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Men. They just don’t get it.”

I mutter,
“Nope.” Not a chance if my boyfriend enjoys teasing his hormonal girlfriend! This time when Finn brings my fingers back up, I push against his hand, taking him by surprise because his hand slackens and I’m able to graze him between his legs. Feeling how solid he is, I want to touch more, but he promptly moves my hand away.

What? Finn
doesn’t like being teased?

Morgan excitedly exclaims, “The beach is going to be perfect! I’ve always wanted to get married there. What about you, Hadley?” Why is she asking me this right in front of Sparks? It’s like she’s trying to make this awkward for us.
At least he’s still holding my hand.

Shrugging, I uncomfortably
glance down at the table and she says, “I remember you once mentioning getting married in a hot-air balloon. That’s different.”

Shifting, I attempt to pull my hand out of Finn’s, but he won’t let go. Narrowing my eyes at Morgan,
I nervously play with my straw. “Yeah, but not very practical. It’s kind of dumb.”

She grins.
“I think it’s cool.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Finn taking
a long drink. I know he’s hating this conversation. I dismissively say to Morgan, “It was just an idea a while ago.”

Putting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands, s
he switches her attention to Sparks. “What do you think, Finn? Don’t you ever want to get married?”

Holy shit, Morgan! What the hell are you doing?

I apprehensively peer up at him and see his muscles tensing in his jaw. Setting his glass down, he mutters, “I don’t know. I never gave it much thought.”

I feel like he just slammed me in the ribs with a baseball bat.

Morgan argues, “Oh, come on, coach. I’m sure it’s crossed your mind once or twice since dating Hadley.”

Holding onto me tightly with one hand, he clutches his glass with the other, restlessly swirling the ice around, as defiance darkly seeps through his voice and hard glare.
“Why? We’re happy with the way things are.”
Shit
.

Swallowing hard, I lean forward and silently plead Morgan to shut the fuck up; however, she ignores me and says,
“
You
might be, Finn. Answer my question. Haven’t you thought about marrying my best friend?” She nods toward me, but doesn’t let up on her accusing stare pinning Sparks.

Returning Morgan’s provoking stare, Finn
lifts his glass again and retorts, “No. I refuse to marry Rod.”

Morgan scowls, sneering,
“Very damn funny, Wilder. Why won’t you give me a straight answer?”

“
Babe, leave him alone,” Ivan attempts to intervene, and I give him a grateful smile.

Morgan perseveres,
“Apparently, that’s not the only person you refuse to marry.”

“Morg, stop,” I urgently beg, feeling
the muscles in Finn’s leg tightening beneath our hands. He’s pissed off and she’s ruining our night. I’m already positive I’ll hear a lecture from Finn later regarding what I disclose to my best friend about us.

She abruptly takes on an innocent approach.
“Stop what?” She looks at me and then back to Finn. “I’m just wondering why you don’t want to marry her. Isn’t she the woman of your dreams?”

Sparks’ is gnashing his teeth from the way his jaw muscles jump. He anxiously licks his lips and rigidly replies,
“Yes.” I can’t believe he actually answered that. In one, quick swig, he finishes his Scotch and then scans the room, probably searching for another.

Morgan nearly squeals,
“Then
marry
her! Jesus! What’s taking you so long?”

Fucking hell, Morgan Yates!

Ivan hisses, “Morgan, shit! Shut up!”

Disrupted by our food being delivered,
Finn promptly orders a Jack Daniels.
Damn it
. He’s definitely on his way to trashed and Morgan just called for his taxi there.

Desperate to calm Sparks down,
I dig my fingers into his leg and massage his muscles, trying to get him to relax. However, he shifts away from me to pull his phone out of his pocket, checking the screen before sending a reply. In the meantime, I glare at Morgan and she shakes her head at me, feigning confusion.

Finn sets his phone down and I ask, “Work?”

“No. Ricky.”

“Oh.” Of course it is.

His phone vibrates again and he picks it up to answer with another text.

Morgan scoffs, “Is this how you’re going to avoid answering me?”
My mouth drops and I chomp down on my teeth, giving her a look that could wilt silk flowers.