“I don’t know. I don’t really care. And neither should you.” Harper grabbed Wren’s arm again and gave it a little shake. “Don’t forget what he did to you.”
“That happened years ago.” Wren carefully pulled her arm out of Harper’s grip. “I’m over it. You know me. I don’t hold grudges.”
“When it comes to Levi, maybe you should,” Harper muttered.
“I’m not going to hide from him. Just . . . seat us, and if we happen to see each other, then so be it. If not, no biggie. I’ll be fine,” Wren said.
With a put-upon sigh, Harper led Wren over to a table. “He’s on the other side of the restaurant. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Harper said snippily before she strode away.
Wren kept her head bent, flipping open the menu even
though she already knew what she would order. She was so tempted to glance over her shoulder, scan the room in search of Levi, but she didn’t want him to catch her looking.
So stupid.
Tate slid into the booth within minutes, oblivious to everything that just happened. “Already know what you want to order?”
She closed the menu and lifted her head to smile at him. “Always.”
“Good. Me too.” The waitress chose that moment to appear by their table, taking their drink and food orders before she snatched up the menus and walked away.
“She usually flirts with me,” Tate said once the waitress was gone. “I guess bringing you here just blew any chance I might’ve had with her.” When her smile faded, so did his. “I was kidding. Seriously.”
His words, the way he looked at her, sent a shiver down a spine. “Okay,” Wren said slowly, though he was probably right. All the women of Wildwood seemed to trip over themselves whenever they were in Tate’s presence. Young or old, single or attached. “I think pretty much every woman in this town would give you a second chance. Or a third. Or a fourth . . . ”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Dove.” He took a packet of sugar out of the container and started to play with it, batting it back and forth across the table between his hands. “Would you ever consider giving me a second chance?”
He almost sounded nervous asking the question. She couldn’t help but find that sweet. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never even given you a real chance yet,” she teased, her voice soft. Though she vaguely remembered saying he’d blown his chance with her before . . .
“Would you? Give me a chance?” He lifted his head, aiming that piercing green gaze right at her, and she blinked, stunned at his words, her heart picking up speed when he said nothing else.
“Are you asking for one?”
Tate smiled and reached across the table, taking her hand in his and entwining their fingers. She shivered at his touch, not even caring if anyone saw the two of them holding hands in the middle of the BFD. She sort of didn’t want this moment to end. The entire day had been magical thanks to Tate. “When it comes to you, I’d ask for just about anything.”
Wren parted her lips, ready to answer, to tease him a little more, to tell him they should forget the stupid burgers and go back to his place, when a familiar male voice called her name. Her heart in her throat, she slowly turned her head to find Levi Hamilton standing in front of their table.
Oh, crap.
Looking better than ever.
THE DUDE WAS staring at Wren like he had stars in his eyes. Worse, like he was the luckiest damn bastard in the entire universe because he just discovered her. As if she were some sort of foreign land he’d been in search of and dying to conquer for his entire life.
Tate knew that look. Had been experiencing the many confusing emotions behind it for weeks, quietly desperate to claim Wren-land for himself.
“Levi,” she breathed, her voice . . . changing. She never talked to Tate like that, all breathless and light, her tone full of nostalgia and fond memories. “It’s—good to see you.”
Wren pulled her hand from his and slid out of the booth without any prompting, stepping into the stranger’s arms. He was around their age, maybe a little older than Wren but probably younger than Tate, with golden-brown hair cropped close on the sides and longish on top and wearing a pale blue polo shirt and khaki shorts, not one fucking wrinkle in sight.
The asshole could’ve walked straight out of a Ralph Lauren ad. Tate hated him on sight.
Levi squeezed her tight, his eyes closing for the briefest moment before he released his hold on her. Tate could only sit there gaping at the two of them, trying his best to fight the jealousy churning in his gut.
“How are you?” Levi asked as she slowly pulled away from him, his hands still clinging to her arms. His smile was huge, his eyes only for Wren. “You look amazing. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you, Wrennie.”
Wrennie? What the fuck? Who was this guy?
“I’m great. Well, sort of.” She laughed, waved her hands around as if she didn’t know what to do with them. Adorably awkward with her flushed cheeks and helpless expression. “I don’t know if you heard . . . ”