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He chuckles. “No. Mr. James won’t be happy if you’re late. Go on up; it’ll be okay. She really is a nice woman—just overly protective. Just like her grandmother.” He gives off a little shiver when he says grandmother, and I can’t help but smile. How bad can a grandmother be?
After muttering a few affirmations to myself, I follow the man to the elevator. He presses the button and holds the door open for me, then leans into the elevator and hits the PH button.
Penthouse.
How do I have a boyfriend who lives in a penthouse in Boston? Is Cash my boyfriend? This whole married-but-not-married thing is getting beyond complicated and weird. If you had told me even two months ago that I’d be living in Boston, having the best sex of my life with a man who is not my husband, and trying to impress his family, I’d have told you to get the hell out of my home.
My suburban home that I had carefully updated for the last three years.
Honestly, if I’d put half as much energy into my marriage as I did in my master bath, I may not be riding in this elevator right now. This very luxurious elevator that smells like Cash, like an oaky whiskey barrel.
I lean back against the wood which lines the elevator and close my eyes. As nervous as I am to meet Cash’s sister, I wouldn’t change a thing. If I want him in my life—which I do—then I needto put on my big girl panties and figure out a way to win over his family.
If only I had panties.
The elevator dings and opens into brightness. I adjust my eyes and see that I’m in the penthouse. There’s no front door to knock and announce my arrival. I peek out of the elevator and don’t see Cash or his sister, but I do see wide dark wooden beams, floor-to-ceiling windows which bring a soft glow into the space from the early evening sun, and an oversized black leather couch.
I step farther into the space, afraid to call out and also afraid not to. To my right, I spot a kitchen with black countertops and a large island, and to the left of it is a dining room table surrounded by twelve chairs. The ceilings are at least twenty feet high, and it’s clear to see that no expense was spared when designing this space.
There are glass doors leading out to a patio on the side of the building. Just past them I spot Cash and his sister. He’s wearing the same suit from this afternoon, looking sexy with his hair mussed from the wind outside. She motions widely with her hands. Leaning against the balcony with his legs crossed and his arms folded, Cash stares at his sister. He doesn’t appear upset with whatever she’s saying, but he also doesn’t seem happy. He looks every bit the CEO in this moment, taking someone’s complaint and giving them the ability to air their grievance without interruption. Unfortunately, the grievance happens to be me.
Cash looks away from his sister, and his eyes meet mine. I watch as his face transforms from smooth to curved, his lips tipping up and his eyes brightening, and then he sighs, and his shoulders relax.
He doesn’t glance back at his sister; he just moves to the double doors, opens them, and walks to me, his eyes never leaving mine. I’d like to say I saw how his sister reacted—I imagine it was with sheer annoyance—but my eyes never left Cash’s either. His whiskey pools of hope beckoned me and held me in a trance.
“Gracie,” he says on a breath, pulling me right to his chest and squeezing me tight. I feel him inhale me and I do the same. “I missed you.”
For a few moments I hold him, unable to say anything.
The sound of heels crossing the distance into the living room draws me away from him. Cash takes my hand and pulls me close, squeezing three times. What that means, I don’t know, but it gives me comfort.
“Cat,” he says, turning to his sister, “this is Grace Kensington. Grace, this is my sister, Catherine.”
To her credit, she manages not to scowl at me, offering me a polite smile. “Hi Grace, it’s nice to meet you.”
Unsure if I should hold out my hand, I shift a bit as I address her, “Hi Catherine, it’s wonderful to meet you too.”
It’s only once I hear Cash chuckling against me do I realize that I curtsied to his sister. I freaking curtsied as if she were the damn queen of England. Mortification turns my cheeks red, and she looks at me with a bemused smile. “Are you here to discuss Cash’s next round of dates? That’s what you do, right? You match him with other women.”
I squirm, wondering how to respond. Cash and I haven’t discussed what we are, let alone whether we are sharing this information with anyone, and now we’ve just embraced like lovers and he’s gripping my waist possessively.
Cash takes a step back, and I immediately miss the warmth of his body and the comfort it provided me. “Cat was just leaving, right, Cat?” he says, walking toward the elevator.
She stares at me for another moment, and I feel my knees shake under her gaze. “Right,” she replies, looking away from me and to her brother. “I’ll see you this weekend, Cash Money.”
She gets in the elevator, and I finally breathe.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Cash says, walking back in my direction as soon as the elevator doors close. He takes my cheek in his hand and gazes down at me. “Are you okay?”
I close my eyes, grounding myself by his touch, and then look up at him. “Yes. Perfect now that I’m with you.”
Cash leans down and brushes his lips against mine, gently at first, just holding our lips together and resetting. When I can’t take the distance any longer, I move my arm around his neck and he moans, pulling me closer, his hands skimming down my body until they reach my ass. He pats me down as if I’m a suspect and then growls when he confirms that I am still without underwear. “Finally, you listen.” His tongue pushes into my mouth, and he kisses me like we haven’t seen each other for days, rather than the mere hours we had to endure without one another. I giggle against his lips, and he smiles. “Sorry, I get a little carried away when you’re this close.”
“No need to apologize. So now that you’ve got me here, Mr. James, what is it exactly that you wanted me for?”
Cash’s eyes light up. “No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t what?”
