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“Oh, sweetheart.” Alden’s mouth is on my neck now, his lips dragging hotly over my skin. “That’s a dangerous question.”
I shriek with laughter when he throws me over his shoulder, my ass high in the air as he plods up the basement stairs and brings me back to bed. The rest of the morning passes in ceaseless waves of pleasure. Over and over again, he makes me his.
Afterward, spent and breathless, I watch from the bed as Alden makes us an extremely late and extremely delicious breakfast.
“Shit,” I murmur around my last bite of buttered toast, seeing what time it is. “I need to start driving back to the city.”
Alden nods, swiping a crumb from his chin. “You take a shower and get dressed. I’ll get the paintings loaded into the van.”
“You sure?”
He pulls me up to my feet and steers me toward the bathroom. “Yes.”
I shower, then towel off as much water from my hair as I can before changing back into my clothes. I’m doing up the last button on my blouse when I freeze, suddenly hit with the realization that I’m about to say goodbye to Alden and I have no idea when I might see him again.
I swallow, feeling ludicrous for getting emotional about saying goodbye to a man I’ve known for less than a day.
Trying to shake it all off, I fumble with the last button on my blouse, comb my fingers through my damp hair, and step out into the hall with a steadying breath.
When I see Alden, I’m surprised to see him pulling a big clamshell suitcase toward the front door.
I blink at him. “What are you doing?”
Alden straightens up. He’s gotten dressed as well, in dark jeans and a flannel shirt that pulls tight across his muscular chest, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Paintings are loaded,” he says. “And I’m coming with you.”
6
ALDEN
I’d forgotten how much I fucking hate traffic.
But the last hundred miles have reminded me of how mind-numbingly awful it is. The denser the traffic has gotten on this drive, the more my mood has soured. Despite that, I haven’t even entertained the idea of turning around. I’ve kept my foot on the gas, kept my eyes off the rearview mirror, and kept my truck right behind the gallery van for mile after mile.
I’d drive a thousand miles every day in the worst traffic imaginable if it meant keeping Sasha close.
A car in the next lane over begins to drift into Sasha’s lane, edging too close to her, and I jam the heel of my hand into the middle of my steering wheel. As my horn blares, the idiot jerks back into his lane.
“Christ,” I mutter. “Learn how to drive.”
A few miles later, the first glimpses of city skyline start to appear. I blow out a long breath as our surroundings swiftly change. Gone are the thickets of trees. Gone is the wide expansive sky. My peripheral vision is inundated with signs. I grip the wheel tighter as I follow Sasha off the highway and merge into the labyrinth of city streets.
Thank fuck she knows where she’s going. After so many years away, I wouldn’t stand a chance of navigating through this hellhole on my own.
After what feels like a hundred blocks and turns, Sasha pulls the van into a spot right in front of the gallery. There’s only enough room in the loading dock for the van, so I keep going, my knuckles straining around the steering wheel as I search for a spot. One irritating parallel park later, I’m standing on the sidewalk looking up at a parking sign, unable to make sense of all the rules and restrictions.
“Fuck it,” I mumble, turning around and starting to walk toward the gallery. I’m not going to waste time searching for another spot and another confusing sign. If some parking cop wants to write me a ticket, I’ll let them have their fun. Doesn’t mean I’ll pay it.
As I’m nearing the gallery, Sasha steps out of the front door, her hair loose and wavy from her shower at my place. Kristina follows after her, tall and all hard angles, her eyes in focused concentration behind her dark-framed glasses.
Sasha pauses when she sees me, a warm smile spreading across her face. Kristina notices me next, her expression snapping into surprise.
“Alden?” Kristina says, pushing her glasses up onto the top of her head. She’s looking at me like I’m a celebrity to be worshipped. I wish she wouldn’t do that. “I had no idea you were coming into the city. If I’d known, I would have set up some meetings. I have clients that are justdyingto meet you—”
“Sorry, but that’s a hard no.” I step over to the van and yank open the back doors. It’s a relief to see all my paintings survived the trip. I’d been distracted by thoughts of Sasha when I’d loaded them up in the van, and the whole drive down, I kept imagining them rattling around and getting banged up.
“I know it’s not your thing, Alden, but I really think—”
