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Or my bed since that damn dog is living with her.
“Do you want kids?” He blurts out that million dollar question in front of a woman I want to have sex with.
Maren coughs.
I almost choke.
“My folks only had me,” he goes on. “I think in ten or twenty years when I’m ready to have a family, I’ll opt for two.”
“I’m an only child too,” Maren pipes up. “It has its advantages.”
Fletcher moves around me to get closer to her. “You don’t have any siblings?”
She shakes her head. “Just me.”
I stare at her profile as the curtain of red hair on her head moves when she talks. It’s always curly. I fucking love that. It gives her a carefree look that makes me imagine her in a field of long green grass running toward me. I’d wrap my arms around her and spin her in the air before I lower her down and place a tender kiss on her lips.
What the actual fuck am I daydreaming about?
“Keats?” Fletcher shakes my shoulder. “What about you? Do you have siblings?”
I nod. “Sure.”
I look to Maren to help me answer because all the blood in my body is rushing to my dick.
“Keats has a brother and a sister.”
I thank her with a smile.
“What do they do?” Fletcher turns back to me. “Is your brother in sports?”
“He can’t even bowl a strike to save his fucking life.” I laugh.
Fletcher joins in, as does Maren before she offers a reminder. “That’s another hundred dollars to the fund, Keats.”
“You guys remind me of my folks.” Fletcher looks out at the lights of Manhattan. “You’re a solid team.”
“That we are.” Keats smiles at me. “That we are.”***“See that building over there.” Fletcher points a finger in the distance. “It has a hidden tunnel system beneath it.”
Maren glances at him. “How do you know that?”
“Architecture is my porn.” He chuckles. “I could spend days walking the streets of this city, staring at the buildings.”
I catch the Newmans approaching in my periphery, so I turn toward them. Their son is the man I want on my roster, but these two call the shots, so it’s time to turn on the fucking charm.
“Congratulations,” I offer again for the second time.
“Keats.” Patrika descends on me with her arms wide open.
I go in for a good old-fashioned mom hug. She doesn’t disappoint.
“I can’t thank you and Maren enough for the gift.”
Well, fuck. Is that sarcasm spilling from her lips, or did Maren pull another rabbit out of her hat of brilliance and do something spectacular, again?
“The tea set is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Patrika pulls back, and I swear there are tears in the corners of her eyes. “It was just like the one we lost when we moved uptown.”
Maren steps in to explain because a gift like that would never have been on my radar. Hell, no gift was on my radar. I dropped the ball on that. Thank fuck Maren was there to pick it up.
“I saw it at an antique store in Tribeca, and I thought you’d love it, Patrika.” Maren smiles. “It had the silver design on the cups, so it seemed perfect for your silver wedding anniversary.”
Patrika shifts on her feet until she’s facing Maren. “I’ll treasure that forever. We’ve never received a more thoughtful gift.”
Home fucking run.
Everything in this moment is perfect, from the way Fletcher is staring into the night sky, the joy in Patrika’s expression, and the heart eyes Earl is shooting in my direction as he gazes at me.
I am going to represent Fletcher Newman.
I feel it, and it’s all thanks to Maren.Chapter 35Maren“I don’t think there are enough words in the dictionary to thank you for what you’ve done, Maren,” Keats says as we exit Howerton House.
“There are two.” I laugh. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” he repeats. “From the bottom of my grateful heart.”
“You found nine words.” I steady myself as we approach the steps to descend to the sidewalk.
“Can I take you home?”
I glance at him. I wondered if he would offer me an invitation to have a nightcap at his place, but I like that he’s not making assumptions. I’m all for ending this night with a goodbye in front of my building.
I smile. “Sure.”
Keats gestures toward the concrete steps. “Hold onto me.”
I take a step toward him, but I’m stopped almost immediately. I let out a loud yelp as I feel my ankle twist in my shoe. “Ouch. Oh fuck. What the hell?”
Keats reaches his arm out to give me something to grab onto.
“If you were paying for swearing, you’d owe a fucking huge amount of cash.”
I wince. “That’s going to cost you.”
He drops to one knee to get a better look at my foot. Patting his shoulder, he looks up. “Hold onto me, Maren. Take your weight off that ankle.”
