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He smiles at me, and it’s so genuine, so wide, it makes my tears flow a little more.
“Can I take you to my place for a bit?” he asks, voice throaty and rough. “It’s not far.”
I pull down the visor and laugh through my tears, nodding at him as I start wiping the mascara from my face. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re perfect.”
I sniffle, forcing down the ache in my chest as we drive away from the gated home.
I don’t know what the man at my side ever did to end up with a family like the one at number sixteen, but I know deep down in my gut that Lance Sullivan deserves so much more.
EIGHTEEN
Scarlet
The drive to Lance’s building is made in silence. And despite the miles we put between us and his childhood home, I feel his every thought drive him deeper and deeper into his head.
I wish I could take it all away. Wish I could spoil him and make him feel how I felt on my birthday, but I don’t know how I can. There’s a right thing to say and do, but it’s not me he needs to hear it from.
He takes my hand as we cross the parking garage, still not looking at me. He doesn’t say anything until we’re inside his penthouse, and he pulls me protectively into his chest.
A sigh leaves him as he looks down his nose at me. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head vehemently. “You don’t need to be.”
His hands rub up the length of my arms, holding me gently at the shoulders. “Do you want a drink or anything to eat?” He gives me a half smile. “You didn’t get to finish your food before.”
I shake my head, my thoughts lost to him and the emotion in his eyes. He’s trying to hide it, his hands working in an up-and-down motion on my arms as if to distract me. The small smile. It’s all to throw me off.
I quickly scan the sunken lounge, open-plan kitchen and curved staircase. All decorated in dark greys, blacks, and wood.
It’s a man cave.
“This place is amazing.”
“Do you want the tour?” he asks, letting me slip out of his hold.
I catch his hand and pull him with me, his gaze shadowed by his frown as he watches me walk backward.
“Can you show me where your room is?”
He tilts his head, a spark igniting somewhere within him as he shifts on his feet. “I didn’t bring you here for sex.”
“I know you didn’t. It’s not….”
A smile spreads across his face, and my shoulders relax a little. I didn’t realise how badly I needed to see him happy.
“Third room at the top of the stairs.”
I turn and pull him with me, his hands snaking possessively over my summer dress the second he’s close enough.
He may not have brought me here for sex, but I’m willing to give this man anything he wants if it means he smiles for me again.
We make it to his room, and I push on the door, groaning as his mouth works up my neck and across my jaw. The smell of him hits me like a freight train the second I step inside. In front of me, behind me, wrapped all around me. My stomach coils tight.
I spot the door on the other side of the room and smile before heading for it, knowing what I want to do.
“Where are you going, sunshine?”
