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She shakes her head, fighting off the smile trying to creep over her lips. “Fine. You’re such a butt! Better?”
“Better,” I agree. “So?” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“So, what?”
“What’s your answer?”
I feel her heartbeat against my chest. It’s my turn to hold my breath as I wait for her to speak.
Her eyes search mine. For what? I don’t know. But I hope she sees how serious I am about the request. We’ve had the exclusive talk, but we never officially agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I hadn’t planned on addressing that today, but when Carlee reminded me that Rose Hill wasn’t going to go down as our first date, I needed to do something.
Carlee may not know it yet, but I plan on giving her many dates to remember. Still, the teenage boy who planned all this out so long ago needs to ensure this one is branded in her memories.
“Don’t leave me in suspense, Jones.” I stare into her big brown eyes, feeling just a twinge of insecurity when she doesn’t immediately answer.
“Yes, Corey,” she finally replies, exhaling softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I grin like an idiot, and my fingers curl around the back of her neck. “Thank God.” I draw her down until our lips crash together. It’s too soon to confess the depths of my feelings for Carlee. But under the cloudless sky, on the top of Rose Hill, I put all the affection I feel for this woman into one hell of a kiss.
24
CARLEE
“Corey, stop! Someone will see.”I arch forward to put myself out of Corey’s reach. We’re walking back to our apartment building on Friday morning after brunch, and the pitcher has tried to hold my hand, caress my face, and he even swatted my butt when I walked up the stairs in front of him.
I’m not against public displays of affection. The fact this man wants to touch me at all times adds a pep to my step. But after his proposal fake out—a stunt I still plan to make him pay for at some point—we’d both agreed to continue to keep our relationship private. We plan to tell my family at Easter, and Morgan already knows. But everyone else can wait. The responsible side of me knows I’ll need to tell my boss eventually. Part of me hopes that by disclosing our relationship, Patti may be able to convince the powers that be to make an exception with their no-fraternizing policy. I hope to be able to date the man of my dreams without giving up the job of my dreams. But I’m not ready to take that chance just yet. And Corey is okay with keeping his private life private.
So while his affectionate touches are cute, the chances of someone recognizing him and snapping a photo are too high.Unless we plan to announce our relationship to the world this morning, he needs to get ahold of himself.
He admits that fact with a reluctant groan. “I know, Carlee, but give a guy a break. You can’t look that good and expect me to keep my hands to myself.”
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do,” I retort, pinching my lips to try and hide my smile. “I’m your girlfriend, Corey. I deserve respect.”
“My girlfriend,” he rumbles approvingly. “I like the sound of that.”
I squeal and pick up my pace when he reaches for me with a heated promise in his eye. “Corey, stop!” I say, laughing. “I mean it.”
“And I mean it when I say you can’t wear tight-ass leggings that showcase your perfect body and expect me not to touch you.”
“I’ll have you know self-control is a virtue, sir!”
“Well, you are my vice, Carlee Jones. And a vice is simply a virtue carried to excess.”
I blink. “Where is that from?”
“No idea.” He lengthens his stride and catches up to me. His forearm brushes mine, but he doesn’t try to grab me. “I agreed to keep our relationship private, but I didn’t know that meant no touching.” He pouts, looking adorable.
“It’s not forever,” I reassure him.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I mean it. There has to be something I can do to still work at the Lonestars even when news of our relationship breaks.
I’m wracking my head for what that can be when we reach our street. Immediately, I notice the photographers gathered on the sidewalk in front of the doors. The doorman, Nathan, standsin front of the entrance with his arms crossed, glaring daggers at the intruders, but he can’t ban them from the public walkway.
Corey and I draw up short. “Paparazzi,” I say. They haven’t seen Corey yet, but they will soon. Ever since his no-hitter, they’ve been hanging around, trying to catch an exclusive look into the man of the moment’s personal life.
“You go inside.” He gently nudges my back. “I’ll take a walk around the block before I go inside. I’ll meet you at the penthouse.”
