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“All things I love.”
I take the plate from him, weave my way through the loud, excited crowd, and drop down into a chair. I push my hair from my face and wonder how I’ll be able to eat when my stomach is a roiling mess. I almost laugh at that. I feel as ill today as I did when I first met Will—all those years ago in the back seat of the car. The truth is, we’ve been having sex, and it’s been great, but as I sit here, I actually miss his presence. I miss his tenderness, the gentleness in his touch. I spent my entire adult life taking care of myself, doing for myself, and this is all so...nice.
“I thought that was you.”
I glance up at the sound of a woman’s voice. “Bevey, it’s so nice to see you,” I say, and gesture for her to sit across from me. She readily accepts the invitation and sinks into the café chair.
“I’m so glad I ran into you. Chardane talks about you nonstop.”
I smile at that. “She’s a wonderful girl.”
“I wanted to thank you for all you’re doing.” She makes a tsking sound. “It’s a shame you can’t stay on permanently.”
“My life...well, New York,” I say, and she nods like she understands. Once again, I think of the offer Will made. I’m sure that offer will be rescinded once I tell him the truth and he goes and finds his true love. “If the circumstances were different,” I say.
“Where is that man of yours?” she asks, and runs her hand over her pretty yellow-and-blue head scarf as she searches the crowd.
“He’s not my—”
“Oh, girl.” Her gaze flies to mine, and she waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t even go there with me.” She gives a big laugh. “I see the way you two look at each other.” She leans in. “Between us girls, I’ve never seen the man happier.”
“Not even when he was with Naomi?” I blurt out without thinking, and then slam my mouth shut, wishing I hadn’t brought her up. I probably sound like a jealous teenager. Which wouldn’t be too far from the truth. Except I’m a twenty-seven-year-old woman, and I knew what I was getting myself into when I wrote the rules for having sex with your assistant. I just never knew at the time Will was so sweet, loving and caring. I’d once told him I trusted no one. He’d said the same. Things have changed for me, and after everything we’ve been doing, is he capable of letting down his guard and trusting me?
Bevey taps a long finger on the table. “Not even with Naomi,” she says with a slow shake of her head. “No one makes him smile the way you do.”
My stupid heart jumps in my chest, and a smile I have no control over shapes my lips. My God, I must look like a fool.
Bevey laughs again, confirming my suspicions that I do look like an idiot. “That’s what I thought. Girl, the first time you answered that door in that outfit, I knew you were going to give him a run for his money.”
I cover my face. “I can’t believe he makes all his assistants wear such ridiculous outfits.”
“Excuse me?”
I drop my hands at the surprise in her voice. “I said I can’t believe—”
“I know what you said.” Her brow furrows, and she briefly looks down. “Who told you he makes all his assistants wear those outfits?”
“His grandfather, James. He told me Will had a strict dress code and that my closet would be full when I arrived. Why?”
She grins like she’s privy to something I’m not, then lets loose a hoot of laughter. “That old son of a bitch, and two sizes too small at that.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Ignore me, I’ve had too much sun.”
She turns from me when a shadow falls over our table. “There you are,” Bevey says, and stands to give Will a hug. He sets the drinks down and pulls her into his arms.
After a quick embrace, she says, “I have to get back to my table. Raising good money with my johnnycakes.” She squeezes Will’s hand and gives him a wink. “You take good care of this one, Will.”
He frowns thoughtfully as she leaves. “What was that all about?”
I shrug and my phone rings in my back pocket. I continue to ignore it and take a sip of my drink. “Wow, this is delicious,” I say, and try not to think too hard on what Bevey told me. She can’t be right. Will can’t be happier with me than he was with Naomi, right? He pretty much said he still loves her.
Will takes a bite of the pastry and moans. “You have to try this.” He holds it out to me, and his eyes focus on my mouth as I bite into the pastry. For a second, I can’t breathe or even chew. All I can do is stare back as heat and energy arc between us. My pulse picks up tempo, and I finally manage to chew and swallow.
“You’ve got...” He leans toward me and brushes a crumb from my lip, and before I realize what’s happening, he’s leaning closer, then his mouth is on mine. Tender, exploratory at first, tasting, testing. But when I lean toward him, he deepens the kiss, and his tongue tangles with mine. His hand slides around my head and he grips a fistful of my hair. We exchange hot, hungry kisses born of need and frustration, but he halts abruptly when someone catcalls and tells us to get a room.
He pulls back, and we’re both breathless. Silence falls heavy, our heated gazes locked. I bring my finger to my kiss-swollen lips and touch them lightly, the burning imprint of his mouth still there, ruining me for any other man. I am in so much trouble.
