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Public displays of affection weren’t his thing, but here we are.
“I have to read the rest of this list,” I say.
His hands dig into my hips, his mouth at my ear. “You can read it later tonight,” he murmurs, and there’s a promise in those words. “For now, do you want to introduce me to your friends?”
“As…?”
“Yes,” he says, eyes bright. “As your boyfriend.”
I find his hand with my own, and I lead him through the bar, feeling like I’m floating.
29
Summer
I hang up the phone with my aunt, my heart pounding. Even during her vacation, she can’t stop working. I can’t blame her. Not when things are going this well.
“Anthony?” I call.
“Out here!”
I leave my phone on his kitchen counter and pad barefoot out onto the patio. He’s lying on a lounge chair by the pool, his reading tablet in hand. Ace is a furry, golden snake beside him on the shaded terrace.
The sun has darkened Anthony’s skin to a deep brown tan, and his hair is mussed with salt water and wind. There’s a tiny furrow in the center of his brow. I love it. It always appears when he’s concentrating, working, or reading.
“How did it go?” he asks.
“Amazing,” I say. “Fantastic. Perfect!”
He puts the tablet down. “Okay, now I’m curious.”
“She might have asked me to be in charge of training the new people we’re hiring ahead of the app launch.”
Anthony sits up and motions for me. I step closer, his strong arms catching me around the waist. “Of course you were asked. You’re going to be a great instructor.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely.”
“I think it could be really fun. I could create manuals. Maybe a team-building exercise, too. That’s important, right?”
He smiles. “Very.”
I run a hand through his salt-roughened hair. “She asked me to say hi to you, by the way. Jerome did too.”
The skeptical look on his face makes me laugh. “Okay, I admit, I don’t think Jerome actually said that. But Vivienne claims he did, so I rolled with it.”
“Hmph,” he says, tugging me down onto his lap. I settle a leg on either side of him and the lounge chair squeaks under our combined weight. “You’re sure she’s okay with us?”
“I’m sure,” I say, pressing a teasing kiss to his cheek. “Most definitely.”
“She didn’t mind at all.”
“She didn’t mind at all. Didn’t she tell you that herself?”
“Yes,” he admits. He’d spoken to my aunt about us at the office a few weeks ago. Dressed in a suit. Very professional, because, as he said, he didn’t want her to think he was anything but serious in his intentions toward me.
I’d told him he wasn’t asking my father for my hand. He’d winked and saidnot yet,and I’d been completely speechless.
