Page 73 of Bossy Nights


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“I love it,” I breathe as his hands slip under my skirt, approaching the danger zone.

“Great. There’s this little place in Philly that serves the best. I’m having it flown in tonight.”

“But there’s an Italian restaurant on every block here.”

“I only want the best for you.” He gazes down at me with heat in his eyes.

“Why are you spoiling me like this?” I ask, secretly loving how he treats me like a queen.

“It’s a long list.”

“Care to share?” I ask, curious to hear what he thinks about me.

“I’m in love with your smile and sweet innocence.” His lips skim my jawline, sending tingles over my skin.

“The way you twirl your hair when you’re nervous.” He nips at my earlobe, making me squirm in his arms.

“And the dark side of me craves your sinful body.” His fingers delve under the lace of my panties, finding the spot yearning for his touch.

“I’m in love with you, Tessa. All of you.”

He starts kissing over my cheeks, shushing me, and it’s then I realize his lips are wiping away my tears.

“I love you too,” I whisper, barely able to speak.

Fate doesn’t hate us after all.

45

Tessa

I pace the sidewalk outside the Hammond Hotel, waiting for Miles and Maggie to arrive with all my earthly possessions from Alabama. Glancing down the one-way street, a U-Haul van comes into view with Maggie waving at me. She beams with excitement as she bounces in the passenger seat.

Before Miles brings it to a complete stop, she jumps out of the van. My brother scowls at her and shakes his head. I have a feeling it’s been a long trip for him.

“Oh my God!” she screams, running toward me, her long brown hair flying behind her. “I made it.”

“I’m so happy you’re finally here.” She gives me a big hug as Miles walks up behind her. His frown has transformed into a broad smile, his eyes sparkling at me.

“Where’s my hug? I’m the one who had to put up with her for eleven hundred miles.” He embraces me, and it feels so good to be surrounded by his familiar, protective arms. I’ve missed him so much.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I say as he inspects me from head to toe.

“You look happy and have this glow.” He tilts his head and rubs his chin. “The city suits you, though part of me hates to admit it. I’d prefer to have you back home.”

“Well, there’s no place like home, but Manhattan’s feeling like my second one,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes, but still with a smile.

“You’ve done good, little sis.”

Miles helps Maggie and I unload our few boxes onto carts provided by the hotel … or Barclay, really. He made sure we had plenty of help to get what few things I own—all five large boxes—upstairs into my apartment.

My mother packed everything up for me, but I left all my childhood trinkets and memories back in Alabama. For some reason, I wanted to be able to go home and stay in my old room, still surrounded by them. Keep the memories in one place. Maybe later, I’ll bring some back, but I want New York City to make its own mark on me for now.

Maggie, Miles, and I are in front of the apartment door with the first load of boxes. I dig the keys out of my pocket.

“Hurry up,” Maggie says, but I hand her a set of keys instead of opening the door myself.

“Here are yours.” I place a brand new sterling silver Tiffany key chain in the palm of her hand. It was a splurge after my first paycheck.

“Tessa. Thank you. ” Her eyes cloud as she smiles at me in the sweetest way. It means everything, because we made it. Our dream of living here came true.

My brother leaves Maggie and me alone while we unpack. He wouldn’t say what he was up to, but I imagine he’s likely grilling the hotel staff about Barclay. Even out of uniform, my brother wears an invisible badge.

I told my family about Barclay and I being together as a couple the day after the company shifted my boss’s reporting line. I wanted them to find out from me, not the press or one of the small town’s gossips. And believe me, everyone knows everyone’s business in Monroeville.

I’d love to say they’re all overjoyed I’m dating a thirty-seven-year-old publishing mogul, but that’s not totally the case. My mother wants to be understanding and sympathetic. After all, Barclay’s from the world of books—her first love. My father feels it’s too soon for me to be so serious, and wants me to date around. But I remember what Barclay said about guys in their twenties—they’re nothing like the boys in Alabama.

And finally, there’s Miles. He’s got Barclay pegged as Hollywood’s version of a rich Manhattan playboy. Hanging out at all the elite parties. Screwing a different supermodel every night. The list goes on. So to squash his prejudices of the man I love, Miles is meeting Barclay downstairs at the hotel restaurant for drinks and dinner.

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