Page 39 of Smoke and Glitter

I stay on top of him until neither of us is breathing like a functional adult. Eventually his hands slide up my back and settle there. When I lift my head, he is watching me more quietly than he was a minute ago, his thumb moving once against my spine before going still.

When I ask what, Sam says, "You liked that," with enough satisfaction that I laugh. I tell him that is not an admission about him. He kisses the corner of my mouth and informs me he is taking the compliment anyway.

The smile leaves me when I trace my thumb over his lower lip. "Was it hard to let me take over?"

He knows what I mean. I can tell by the pause before he says, "Different." When I ask whether it was bad different, his hand moves slowly down my spine. "No. Just not something I do much."

I could ask why and turn the whole night toward an answer neither of us is ready to give. Instead I kiss him once and settle against his chest.

A minute later he reaches toward the nightstand. I catch his wrist before he gets there. "If that is you trying to get me water, I am going to be offended."

Sam looks at the glass, then at me. "You need water."

"I need you to lie here for sixty seconds without finding a task." I start counting under my breath. He makes it to eleven before he laughs and pulls me closer.

I stop counting. His arm comes around my waist, heavy and warm, and sometime after that I fall asleep with the tie I took off him still lying on the floor beside the bed.

Chapter seven

Chapter Seven

Autumn

Anna calls early in the morning.

Sam's arm is across my waist, heavy enough that getting out from under it takes some work. I ease toward the edge of the bed until his hand slips away, find my phone on the floor beside my dress and take the call into the hall.

"Autumn."

I pull the bedroom door mostly closed behind me. "Anna."

"O'Keefe wants you in London for the entire tour."

That stops me beside the bathroom.

I'm barefoot and wearing one of Sam's shirts, standing in a hallway I know well enough now to avoid the floorboard that creaks near the linen closet.

"For how long?"

"Eleven weeks minimum. Probably fourteen."

I lean back against the wall. "Fourteen."

"And that's not the whole reason I'm calling."

Her voice has changed, and it straightens me.

"We're opening London."

I blink. "We have a London office?"

"We're going to."

"And?"

Anna lets out a breath like she's been waiting for me to get there. "The board wants to know what it would look like with you running it."

For a second, I'm sure I've misunderstood her.