Page 39 of Long Story Short

I’m sliding my phone into my purse when I make it back to the kitchen, stopping in my tracks as Tyson comes into view.

He’s sitting on the ground, his long legs out in front of him. Mouse scampers around in the space between them, chasing the straw wrapper that Tyson has in his hand.

Tyson laughs as Mouse somersaults over his leg in an attempt to catch the wrapper.

My hand finds my chest, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t know why, but there’s something about the sight of Tyson sitting on the ground just to play with my cat that makes my heart squeeze in my chest.

“Ready,” I whisper, my focus still on the scene in front of me.

Tyson’s in the middle of laughing at Mouse when his eyes meet mine. His smile grows, and he doesn’t bother to hide it when he pulls his gaze from mine and lets it run over my body instead.

He watches me intently as he drops the wrapper for Mouse to finally have and stands to his full height. His gaze traces over me once again, and I don’t miss how he focuses on my thighs for a little longer than necessary before finding my eyes again.

“I should’ve said this earlier, but I was too preoccupied with finding out what coffee you like. You look beautiful today.”

I cast my gaze downward as warmth spreads throughout my cheeks. “Thank you,” I murmur, not bothering to hide my growing smile.

Tyson closes the distance between us, the scent of his cologne wafting around me once again. He hooks his finger underneath my chin and tilts my head up, not allowing me to hide the pink tinge to my cheeks.

Small crinkles form next to his eyes as he gives me a grin. “There’s that blush I love so much. I was wondering when I’d first get to see it this morning.”

His words only make my cheeks feel hotter, undoubtedly bringing more obvious color to them. He moves his hand from my jaw to my cheek, brushing his knuckle over the crimson-stained skin. “Let’s get to the club so I can feed you,” he mutters, his voice deep and gravelly.

His hand drops, and I miss his touch instantly. Luckily, I don’t have to wait long to feel it again. He places it softly just above the small of my back as he guides me to the front door.

Butterflies take flight in my stomach in anticipation of what’s to come as we leave my house and head to the dark SUV parked in his driveway.

TWENTY-TWO

TYSON

I’ve never felt the desire to hold someone’s hand. As far back as my limited experience in relationships goes, I just never felt the urge to do something as mundane as hold hands. Did I do it anyway because that’s what I was supposed to do? Sure. But it’s taken thirty-seven years for me to actually desire to take a woman’s hand in mine.

Josie sits next to me in the passenger seat of my rental. She’s got one ankle folded over the other as she stares at the ornate wrought-iron entry gates in front of us, the polished, black metal gleaming underneath the morning sun. I coax the SUV past the security guard as the gates open for us, and we drive down the curved private road that leads to the country club.

“Pembroke really is so beautiful,” Josie marvels. She stares at the perfectly trimmed bushes that line each side of the road. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as I continue to fight the urge to take her hand. It’s really just an excuse to touch her in any way possible. There’s a pull like I’ve never felt before, making me want even the most simple of things, things I’ve never wanted until now. Like casually interlacing our fingers or taking her out for a breakfast date. “I see why so many people love it here.”

“When my sister started coming here so often, I didn’t understand the appeal. I barely tolerate the parties in Manhattan. I hate making small talk, and I hate coming off pretentious. Spending my summer at Pembroke felt like the last thing I’d ever want to do, but the more I visited here, the more I understood why so many people come here. Sure, it’s still a game of who knows who and who makes the most money, but people are far more real here than they are in Manhattan. Guards are down, even for just a little. And everyone here really is just trying to relax and forget about the worries of the real world.”

Josie nods as I pull into a parking spot. Now that we’re in the busy season, the parking lot is far more full than it was a few weeks ago when I popped in for a visit. It’s a beautiful day today, and it seems like everyone’s had the same idea to spend their day at Pembroke.

“I loved coming here when I was younger, but then I kind of forgot about it. As I got older, I did my best to avoid the people I grew up with. I understand how fortunate I was to grow up with the last name Russell, but I didn’t want to let the wealth and the power consume me the way it does so many others. Because of that, I avoided Pembroke too, but now that I’m back, I can’t see myself forgetting about this place again,” Josie explains, her voice soft and composed as her gaze focuses on me.

“I love to hear that,” I answer honestly. She’s been very forthcoming that her time in the Hamptons is only supposed to be a six-week thing. We’re just starting to get to know each other, so I haven’t pressed to know more about what happens after she turns her book in, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say how much I hope to continue to get to see her even when she’s back in Manhattan.

A thoughtful smile curves her perfect lips. “Are you going to feed me now?”

I can’t help but laugh at her change of subject. “Yes, of course. Let’s go.”

I hurriedly open my door and round the front of the SUV, making it to her side just in time to snag the handle and open it for her.

Josie smiles as I offer her my hand. “I can get my own door, you know.”

I nod as she places her hand in mine. “I can too.” My lips turn up in the whisper of a smile at finally feeling her skin against mine. Now that I am doing what I’ve been imagining the whole ride, I don’t want to let go once I help her out of the vehicle.

Josie slips one tan leg out and then the other. She grabs her purse with her free hand before looking up at me with her big, beautiful hazel eyes. “I’m excited to try the breakfast. I’m sure it’s incredible.”

My gaze flicks to her lips for a moment. After finishing her coffee in the car—at a rate quicker than I was expecting—she reapplied the pink lip gloss she’d been wearing earlier. Her lips look far too juicy to ignore, and the thought creeps into my mind, wondering if her lips would taste more like the coffee she sucked down or more like the lip gloss.