Page 252 of Revenge Reads Better

“Yeah, well, somebody has to be. We didn’t exactly hit the jackpot in the mom department,” she replies, already making her way toward the door. “Anyway, I’ll see you lovebirds in a couple of hours.”

“See you!” I wave as she leaves, Milo closing the door behind her.

“You know what that means?” he asks, turning around and pulling me into his arms.

“That we need to haul ass if I’m supposed to finish packing before we meet everyone?” I suggest, looping my arms around his neck and playing with the hair at his nape.

“Actually, I was thinking of something a little more fun.” He winks.

“Is that so? And who’s going to pack all of this in the meantime?”

“A little break never hurt anyone. We’ve been at this all day. I think we’ve earned one.”

“Oh, really?” I arch a brow. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Before I can come up with another smartass remark, Milo lowers his head and kisses me, his hand sliding to the small of my back, pressing me against his already hard cock.

Well, there goes my carefully planned packing schedule.

Then again, I’ve never been particularly good at saying no to Milo.

Why start now?

“We’re late.”

“We’re not late,” Milo argues. “The guests of honor can’t be late to their own farewell party.”

“And yet, here we are. Late.”

“Would you relax, Morgan? It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

I shoot him my most menacing look, which only makes him laugh.

By the time Milo and I finished packing the last of my belongings into boxes and suitcases—with more than a few breaks in between—night had already fallen over Fairhope.

So when we finally pull up near the old mill, it’s no surprise to either of us that it’s well past ten.

He cuts the engine before leaning across the console to unbuckle my seat belt. After stealing a quick kiss, he climbs out of the truck to come around to my side. I smile when he opens my door and offers me his hand, helping me down from the passenger seat. I can already hear music drifting through the woods, though it’s nowhere near as loud as it usually is on a Friday night.

“I’m starting to regret saying yes to this,” he mutters as he closes the door behind me.

“Why? Don’t you want to say goodbye to our friends?”

“Of course I do. I just would’ve preferred spending the rest of the night alone with you.” He wiggles his brows suggestively.

“I’ve created a monster.” I laugh, slipping my hand into his. “Come on, Fletcher. I think you can survive a few hours of hanging out with your friends without trying to get into my pants.”

“Wanna bet?”

I shake my head, laughing as he tugs me into his side.

With his arm now draped over my shoulder, I slide my hand into his back pocket, and together we make our way toward the mill.