“I’m a surgeon,” he replies, and my eyes immediately fall to his hands. His fingers are long, manicured. Smooth. Steady.

“Did you all go to Harvard?” I’m smiling at all three now, enjoying their company.

“No, I went to the police academy,” Levi says, shaking his head. “These two are the Ivy Leaguers in the family.”

“I went to Duke,” Jace replies.

“You’re all so fancy,” I say and wink at Wyatt, who hasn’t taken his hand off my knee since we got here.

“What do you do, Amelia?” Jace asks and brushes his hand on my arm. Just in a friendly way, but I feel Wyatt’s grip on my knee tighten so I cover his hand with mine and give it a squeeze, reassuring him that I’m here with him, and I’m just getting to know his family.

“Please, call me Lia. I’m actually a beauty blogger. I have a channel on YouTube where I give tutorials on makeup and skincare, and I’ll be launching my own makeup brand soon.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. He probably thinks that this means that I’m basically unemployed, which is what most people think. They have no idea that this can be a lucrative career.

“She’s amazing in front of the camera,” Wyatt adds and smiles down at me. “She’s articulate, knows the products she’s talking about, and looks amazing.”

“Thank you,” I reply and lean in to kiss his shoulder. His support means more to me than he could possibly know.

“Interesting,” Jace says, nodding. He looks over my shoulder and frowns. “Cruella, six o’clock.”

“Fuck,” Wyatt mutters, just as a woman sidles up beside him and offers all three men a fake smile.

“Funny meeting you guys here,” she says, then looks at me. That fake smile falls right off her face when she sees Wyatt’s hand on my leg. “Hello, I’m Claudia Crawford.”

Ah, the ex-wife.

I would be lying if I said I haven’t been dying of curiosity to know what she looks like.

She’s on the short side, with blond highlights in muddy brown hair. Her makeup is caked on, only enhancing the wrinkles around her eyes.

I could teach her so much.

She looks older than I assume she is, but her eyes are shrewd, and not happy.

“Hello, Claudia,” Wyatt says with a sigh.

“You must be the flavor of the month,” she says to me, and Wyatt’s eyes narrow menacingly.

“This is Amelia, my girlfriend.”

My whole body stills at this comment. Girlfriend.

Am I his girlfriend? It makes me glow rather than want to run away. This is something I need to think about later.

But Claudia’s eyes turn glacial now.

“I see.”

Wyatt stands, dwarfing Claudia. “Is there something you need?”

“I just wanted to say hello to you all. I haven’t seen you in a long time, and you know I always liked your brothers.”

“Can’t say we liked you back,” Jace replies, leaning back in his chair.

Awkward.

Her eyes narrow, and without a word, she glares at all of us and then quickly stomps away.

Wyatt sits again and blows out a long breath.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t think you have anything to be sorry for,” I reply. “Is her name Claudia or Cruella?”

Levi grins. “To her face? Claudia. But we’ve called her Cruella for years.”

“We’re not fans,” Jace says, winking at me.

“So I gathered.”

“You dodged a bullet there, brother,” Levi says and sips his wine. “A big, nasty bullet.”

Jace laughs and touches my arm again.

“If you want to keep your million-dollar hands, you’ll stop touching her.”

I cock an eyebrow, and Jace just laughs again but raises his glass in a toast. “So that’s how it is.”

“That’s how it is,” Wyatt confirms.

“I wasn’t hitting on you,” Jace says. “He just seems to be touchy.”

“This is new,” Levi adds thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“Really?” I look at Wyatt, who just sips his wine and doesn’t change his facial expression. “Do you want me to change the subject?”

“That would be fantastic,” he replies.

“Have you heard from crazy house lady lately?”

“I like them,” I say as I walk into my house and flip on the light. “You’re all very different, but it’s so interesting to see how similar your body language is.”

I kick off my shoes and set my clutch on a table and turn in time to see Wyatt making a beeline for me, lifting me in his arms and pinning me against the living room wall, kissing me silly.

Well, hello there.

I dig my fingers into his over-long hair and hold on tightly. He’s in a fast mood tonight, and I never know how or where he’s going to take me when he’s like this.

It’s thrilling.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growls against my neck. I’m suddenly on my feet, and he’s turned me around and is kissing the back of my neck. His hands cup my breasts, teasing the nipples into hard points with his fingertips. “Your body comes alive when I touch it.”

“You’re good at touching it,” I reply, already panting and throbbing for him. But he gathers my dress in his hands and begins to pull it up over my ass, so I quickly turn to face him, not wanting him to see my backside.

I have ass issues.

I cup his package through his pants, and he goes right to work kissing me, his hands moving all over my body.

Finally, he takes my hand and guides me up to the bedroom. He flips the sidelight on, and we fall onto the bed, all tangled arms and legs and lips.

He turns me over, but I squirm under him and switch onto my back, shaking my head.

“Turn the light off.”

He scowls. “I want to see you.”

“Okay.” I push up to kiss him, but he makes a move to flip me again, and I shake my head. “I want to see you, too.”

His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue. He just gathers my dress in his hands again and tugs it over my head, throwing it over his shoulder.

“Fucking Jesus, if I’d known this was what was under that dress, we never would have left the house.”

I grin. I’m in black, lacy underwear that shows off all of my curves. So rather than ripping it all in two the way he normally does, Wyatt takes his time, kissing every inch of flesh as he uncovers my skin, setting me on fire.

“You’re good with your mouth,” I whisper, reveling in the way he lingers, licking me with just the very tip of his tongue, sending electrical currents humming through me.

“I can’t get enough,” he says, surprise heavy in the words. “No matter how much I get, it’s never enough.”

I’m tugging at his clothes, frustrated that he keeps moving out of my reach. “You need to get naked, babe.”

He kisses my palm, then sits up to discard his shirt. My hands immediately find his chest, gliding down to his flat, muscled stomach.

But it’s always the tattoos that catch my eye.

“I love your ink,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says and covers me again, kissing me as if it’s the last time. He grips my wrists and pins my hands over my head, making my back arch, giving him better access to kiss and taunt my nipples.

My legs are restless, squeezing to find some relief from the pressure building, but Wyatt grins and maneuvers between them, spreading me wide.