Page 91 of Never To Be Mine

The moment I was close enough, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Not a quick peck, but a real kiss that made my toes curl in my sandals. His hands settled on my hips, holding me against him like he’d been starving for the contact. Judging by the hardness I felt poking me, he had been.

Me too.

“Hi,” he murmured against my lips.

I pulled back just enough to look at him. “You’ve been MIA for three days. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“Never.” He kissed me again, softer this time. “I’ve just been drowning in orders and production planning. But I’m all yours today. No work, no phone calls, just us.”

“That sounds perfect.”

He opened the passenger door for me, and I slid into the seat. The car smelled like him, that citrus and sandalwood scent I’d come to associate with feeling safe and wanted. He rounded the car and climbed in beside me, his hand immediately finding mine on the center console.

“So where are we going?” I asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“No, you don’t. You just like being in control.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Trust me?”

I looked at him and couldn’t believe he was mine. For now at least. When I had first met Hollis Blackwell weeks ago, trusting him would have been laughable. Now it felt natural.

“Yeah,” I said. “I trust you.”

His smile widened, and he squeezed my hand. “Good.”

We drove through Santa Monica, heading south on the PCH. I watched the scenery pass, content just to be near him after three weeks of seeing each other off and on. We’d managed a few late-night phone calls and some flirty texts, but it wasn’t the same as being in the same room.

He pulled off the highway, heading into Beverly Hills. We wound through the streets until he pulled into a parking structure I recognized.

“Blackwell Couture?” I asked as he parked.

“Yep.” He turned off the engine and looked at me with that mischievous grin I’d learned meant he was up to something. “I want to buy you something pretty to wear tonight.”

“What’s tonight?”

“Another surprise.”

“Hollis, I have clothes. You could have just told me to wear something nice.”

“Come on. Trust me, remember?”

I let him pull me out of the car and toward the elevator. My mind was racing through possibilities. Something fancy enough that I needed a dress from Blackwell Couture? That narrowed it down to either a very expensive restaurant or some kind of event. Maybe both.

I would have done my hair better. And my makeup. I’d been thinking we were going to be eating from a food truck or walking on the beach. The Blackwell label meant glam.

We stepped into the store, and I was immediately struck by how different it felt from the last time I’d been in a high-end boutique.

A woman approached immediately with a bright smile. “Mr. Blackwell, wonderful to see you again.”

“Hi, Serena. This is Juno. We need something special for tonight.”

“Of course.” Serena’s eyes swept over me with a professional assessment that somehow didn’t feel judgmental. “I have some pieces that would be perfect. Right this way.”

She led us to a private section of the store where several dresses were already displayed. I shot Hollis a look.

“You called ahead?”