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“Didn’t even ask a question.”
He whistles a low tone. “Damn, that Declan is slick. Can we hire him to join our team?”
The elevator door opens, we stride out between the bustle of people in the lobby. Again, they scamper as we make our way through the double sliding doors. I finally draw a breath of fresh air. Thank fuck. “Working on it.”
When we get to the SUV, I call Eva. “He’s going to be ready for next Saturday.”
“On it. Everything is pretty much set. Amazing what shit-tons of money and one badass agent can do.”
“Max is set too?”
There’s a long pause and it starts to worry me. Then she laughs softly, “Uh... I haven’t talked to Max.”
I grin at the phone. “Why not?”
“He’s busy.”
“Or is he just annoying you, so you’re avoiding him?” I can hear her smile.
“A little of both. He’s still hot around the collar over the florist. I’ll catch you tomorrow. Don’t worry your pretty little head, everything is coming together just fine.”
“Nothing about my head is little,” I crack as she hangs up on me.
When I get home—yes, home as in lots of walls, comfortable places, laughter and food-smelling scents—I take a big breath and throw my coat off. Tossing it onto the chaise lounge in the foyer, I yell, “Lucy, I’m home!”
A peel of laughter flows to me like a ribbon dancing on the wind.
“The kitchen,” Carra calls in a voice that sounds as pretty as spring flowers swaying in a meadow.
Gawd. Listen to me, all fucking poetic.
I stroll into the kitchen where I’m drawn up to a halt. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a better sight in my life. Okay, that’s a total lie. My lovely betrothed naked, spread out before me is hard to challenge.
But this does something to my fuckin-rusty heart that I can’t deny. My breath sticking in my chest, I stand there looking at her as the hunger inside me morphs into something that has a life of its own.
In a bright beam of sun, she’s standing by the kitchen island, wearing a pink dress with tiny straps, hair in a messy little knot on top of her head, she's stirring a big bowl of something. Her smile is the softest, most loving of curls a woman’s mouth can have.
Growly, I say, “You made dessert for me.”
Laughing softly, she holds the spoon for me. “It’s not ready yet.”
Catching her in my arms, I press my mouth to her neck, taste her sweet warmth. “I wasn’t talking about the batter. I was talking about you in this tempting little dress.”
“Ah-hm.” Ariel clears her throat loudly. She’s grinning as she tosses a big bag of chocolate chips on the counter. “I’ll just be swinging back over to the other house while you two...” She makes a motion with her hand.
“Good call,” I say between bites on Carra’s neck.
A second later, we’re alone in our monstrous kitchen and I’m gliding my hands up to band around Carra’s narrow ribs. “I missed you.”
She offers me the spoon and I take a lick of the thick, sweet batter. “I missed you too, but I stayed busy.”
“I see you did. Did you wear this cotton-candy dress just for me?”
She turns her head so our lips brush together as I speak. Hungry, I plunder her sweet, hot lips, taking my time to enjoy every nuanced little shape.
Her lips curl into a smile against mine. “I did. Thank you for buying it for me.”
I take the spoon from her hand and toss it across the island into the sink. “I wish I could say I picked it myself. But Eva saved the day again. I’m going to have to thank her.”
