Page 31 of Snow Globe Secrets

Eyes closed and mouth adorably quirked, he nodded but didn’t move. I stood in front of him, water lapping at my legs.

“Come on, London. I’ll make lunch.”

“But we just had breakfast.”

“Dude, that was two orgasms ago. I don’t know about you, but I need sustenance!” His eyes popped open at my comment, but he remained slouched in the corner.

Alright, then,” he agreed, but his gaze turned stern. “Second breakfast.” His correction was adorably strict.

I took his hands and tugged him up. We climbed out of the tub, and I dried him off, using the same towel on myself before folding it and placing it on the side of the tub.

Hand in hand, we walked until we stood in front of the stairs to his loft.

“All you have to do is throw some clothes on.”

I looked him over unabashedly, and he watched me do it.

“Or not.” I shrugged, letting my eyes rake over him once more.

“Then I want you to stir the fire and sit in front of it. Weather station, cheesy made-for-TV holiday romance, softcore porn—whatever you want. My vote’s for one of those Christmas romances. There’s this one…” I began, but his scoff interrupted me.

“What?” I asked. “You don’t like Hallmark movies?”

“They’re ridiculous, unrealistic and … and ridiculous!” He seemed impassioned in his not-so-well-formed opinion.

“Aha!” I exclaimed. “How would you know that if you hadn’t watched one? Or some. Or many, many cheesy romance movies.” I pulled him in until our bodies were flush.

He opened his mouth to respond, the amusement on his face, or maybe the nearness of his naked body, doing weird things to my stomach.

His counterargument was lost as his phone made a blaring noise.

“Shit, that’s the ring I reserve for the higher-ups in my company. I should ...”

Randall had gone from animated and teasing to anxious on the first bleat. I frowned, upset to see his mood turn so quickly.

He looked at me, and his face fell. “I’m really sorry; I suppose I could ignore it.” I may have only met the man the day before, but even if he really could ignore a call from his “higher-ups,” I knew he never would. Years of living with an overachieving mother meant I knew the importance of an unexpected call from work. Had his ex-husband not understood?

“London, don’t be ridiculous. Of course, your job comes first! Go call back the tech bro or whoever that was. Do what you’ve got to do, and I’ll start lunch? I mean, second breakfast.”

He lost the frown, and my stomach swooped again in uneven proportion to his not being upset at me for thinking I would be selfish enough to keep him from his work. He was smiling when he pointed to his loft and said, “I’ll just go … I’ll be quick.” He scurried toward the stairs, muttering, “I hope,” as he went. His firm ass still had creases just below it, where he’d sat sprawled out on the ledge of the tub. I watched those two half-moons until he was up the stairs.

Only then did I venture to the other loft to throw on a clean pair of sweats and a T-shirt sporting the name of my college. Randall and I descended the separate sets of stairs simultaneously, and we both chuckled, as he was dressed similarly, in heather-gray sweatpants and a tee advertising my parents’ alma mater. He had a laptop tucked under his arm and his phone at his ear.

I hustled to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee, turning to find Randall behind me as I moved toward the microwave to warm them up. “Out,” I mouthed, pointing to the couch with one mug. His face fell again, like he’d done something wrong. I wondered what I had done wrong to warrant the look.

“Alright. I’m logging in now. Tell Anson we’ll get it sorted. No, it’s no bother, you were right to call me … Snowed in, yeah.” He glanced out the window. We’d managed to forget about the weather there for a bit. The snow was really coming down again. “For at least another day, by the looks of it … That’s right.” He let a lame little chuckle. “Nothing else to do. Plenty of time to work.” I couldn’t raise just one eyebrow as he’d done, but I raised both, smiling as I did so while removing the mugs from the microwave. I turned and placed one on the counter near him. I was so thrilled when he smiled in return.

“I’ll keep you updated … Yes, and Anson too, of course. And Jasper, don’t worry. This is our first little hiccup since the merger. We’ll sort it out. Okay? Good.”

He hung up, gave the mug an odd little look, and went to grab it anyway. I got there first and scooped it up, spilling a little.

“You don’t want coffee,” I said matter-of-factly.

“You made me coffee,” he countered.

“I poured coffee for you that’s been sitting around for hours.” I pointed again toward the living room area. “Just tell me what you actually want and get to work. Anson Day is waiting on you!”

He sighed.