Free Sweet Filthy Boy by Christina Lauren Page B

just a little farther down the path. “This part of the zoo is deserted.”
    I don’t believe my ears. I open my eyes to see Ansel walking up the paved walkway. He lowers himself on the bench and stretches his arm across the back, letting it rest behind me. The fingers of his right hand spread across my shoulder.
    I’m speechless.
    It’s a familiar sensation but for completely unfamiliar reasons. I’m speechless from shock, rather than restraint.
    “H-h-” I start, squeezing my eyes shut.
    He waits, patiently, fingertips sliding warm and smooth over my skin.
    “What are you doing here? How did you know—”
    “You told me you come here to think. You said you love this part of the zoo, and I’ll admit,” he says, looking around, “I don’t understand it at all. It’s mostly concrete and sleeping lizards. But I got here maybe an hour ago?” He tilts his head, smiling warmly as if he’s not a terrifying stalker. “And I’m here because I can’t be away from you, Mia. You’re my wife.”
    My eyes must go wide in horror because he bursts out laughing, retrieving his arm so he can bend over and rest his elbows on his thighs. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice. I’m in San Diego because I’m flying out of the airport here tonight. Oliver is meeting with the architect remodeling his store, and it’s the last time we’ll see each other for a while. We drove down together last night, and today I came here, hoping it was true that you come here to think all the time. And maybe to do a little thinking myself,” he adds, looking over at me and smiling sweetly. “I promise I was kidding.”
    “You still came here looking for me,” I remind him, inching away slightly.
    He digs into his back pocket and hands me a sheet of folded paper. I open it and realize it’s a copy of our marriage license. “You didn’t have a copy. You didn’t even know how to spell my last name, I don’t think. I would have called you, but even though I was smart enough to leave you my number, I realized I don’t have yours.”
    I feel like a complete asshole. He’s really gone out of his way to make sure I have this, and I couldn’t even text him my number.
    “Thanks,” I say quietly.
    “Of course.”
    I move closer again, putting my hand on his arm, and as the adrenaline in my blood slows to a steady hum, I realize how ridiculously giddy I am to see him. “So, wait, Oliver is opening a store in San Diego?” I absolutely don’t think Lola knew his store was going to be in our hometown .
    He nods as he lifts my hand, kisses it. “He’s moving here in a few weeks. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you had that before you moved.” He nods to the paper I have clenched in my hand, and then stands. “I didn’t want to mail it to your house and have your dad open it.” I swallow heavily, stunned at how thoughtful he’s been. “I’m going to head back to the hotel and relax for a bit. I have a long flight ahead of me.”
    “What time do you fly out?”
    He blinks away, brows pulled together as he thinks. “Around eleven?”
    He pushes his hands into his pockets before I can see if he’s still wearing his ring. He looks at my hands and sees that I am. “My email is just my first and last name together at XMail,” he tells me. “We can coordinate everything in September.”
    “Okay,” I say, nodding.
    He leans down, kisses the top of my head, and then whispers, “I’ll be at the Hilton Bayfront until around eight. I bought an open, round-trip ticket for you to Paris.” Standing up, he shrugs and lets a huge smile spread across his face as my jaw hits the sidewalk. “What can I say, I’m an optimist. Or insane. Depends on who you ask.”
    He may be insane, but that ass looks mighty fine as he walks away.
    Sitting in my lizard and concrete shelter for a while, I contemplate going home and immediately discard the thought. I contemplate going to Lola’s and hanging out with her and Greg for dinner, but I’m