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“Can’t what?”
“Accept this. It’s too much. You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.”
Her hand went on top of mine. “But you spent all this money on me and—”
“And I wanted to.” I would repeat those words until she understood them, until she believed them. I tilted her face up, aligning our lips despite them being over a foot apart. “It’s just a gift. That’s all this is. Money that I happily spent on you.”
And there would be so many more coming her way. I would spoil the shit out of this woman. This was only the very beginning. But I wasn’t going to tell her that and overwhelm her even more when I knew she was still struggling with the muddiness of her life.
She squeezed the sides of the bags, assuming she was trying to feel how many outfits were inside. “This is a whole closet’s worth of clothes.” She took a breath. “Macon, I can’t—”
“You can.” I nodded toward her place. “Now, bring me to your room so I can put this stuff in there. I have a lot planned for us tonight, and we need to get going.”
She didn’t move. “Macon …”
“Listen to me,” I said softly, keeping my voice tame even though I wanted to bark orders that were even stronger than my last set. “I’m fucking obsessed with your body. Getting to dress you in what I’ve picked out … there’s nothing sexier. If you continue spending time with me, giving you gifts is one of the things I’m going to do. Not that I’ve ever done this before. I’ve told you about my past, but I have this desire to do it for you.”
As I thought about the red dress that I’d thrown in at the very end, my thumb dragged across her lips, tugging the bottom one. The dress wasn’t appropriate for the interview, not with the way the whole back was open, but when I had seen it on the rack the shopper had rolled into my suite, I had known Brooklyn had to have it, especially because she had one hell of a fucking back.
“Don’t deny me something I want to do for you.”
She stayed silent for several seconds. “I don’t know what to say.” Her hand left mine and went to my chest, gently stroking the center between my pecs. “Except for my family, no one has ever done anything like this for me. No clothes, gifts, nothing. I …” Her stare shifted from me to the bags and back again. “I’m truly speechless. Thank you.”
I gave her a quick kiss. “Take me inside.”
Instead of words, she gave me a grin, and I followed her to the front door that she unlocked with her key. Once she stepped in, she stayed near the entrance until I joined her, and then she brought me through what I guessed was supposed to be the living room, except there were three blowup mattresses on the floor, a wooden table that had a laptop, and a closet in the back.
“I just have to make some room in here. One second.”
As she stood in front of the closet, she began to slide things to either side. A closet that was smaller than the one in my current hotel suite. Once she created enough space, she took the bags from my arms and hung them.
“So, this is our tiny place.” She turned toward me. “My bed is there”—she pointed at the mattress a few feet away—“and that’s my desk.” Her finger traced the air around her laptop. “Jesse and Clementine sleep over there,” she said, aiming at the other two beds. “Kitchen is through that archway.” Her finger was back in the air, directing me to the room next to this one, her hand shifting a couple of inches as she continued, “And the bathroom is that way.” She paused. “Now, you see why I’m ready to move out.”
I was no longer visually taking the tour. I was focused solely on her. “There’s nothing wrong with this place, Brooklyn.”
Sure, it was minute. The women slept on air mattresses instead of real beds. The amount of stuff they had well exceeded the allotted space. But I knew the demographics of this island, something I’d thoroughly researched for months to prepare myself for the build-out and the staff we’d be hiring. Therefore, I knew what it cost to live here, and the rent, based on the average income, was outrageous.
These three women made it work. They pooled their resources, and they had a place of their own that was close to the water.
That was fucking admirable, not something to downgrade.
“There isn’t anything wrong with it,” she agreed. “But I dream of the day when I have my own bedroom and I can close the door and get a second of silence. Not to mention privacy. Unless my sisters are at work, like they are now, I barely even get a minute alone in the bathroom.”
“You need to install a lock on that door.” I laughed.
She rolled her eyes. “Knowing them, they’d pick the lock.” Her hand went to my arm. She held it, rubbed her thumb across my bicep, and then squeezed. “For so many reasons, thank you.”
“You already thanked me. You don’t have to do it again.”
“But I do.”
Quietness passed between us. A period where I could say so much. Where I could lift her into my arms and set her on the bed. Where I could send the driver home and spend the whole evening here, doing the things I’d been fantasizing about. But that would mean missing the opportunity to see the look on Brooklyn’s face when she saw what I had planned.
I wasn’t going to pass that up.
“You’re welcome.” I wrapped an arm around her back. “Are you ready to go?”
