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“It’s about time, woman.” Then his mouth was on mine.
eighteen
Cage
I’d just hadthe best sex of my life… for the second time today. I couldn’t get enough of this woman. I’d all but begged her to come over after her girls’ night. I’d never had a woman at the house while Gracie was home. Hell, the only woman who’d ever been in my bed was Presley. But the one time I’d brought her here, Gracie had been with my parents.
She was lying in my arms, completely naked, and I wanted to keep her right here. I pushed the thought out of my head.
“So, tell me about this meeting tomorrow,” I said, as she intertwined her fingers with mine.
“It’s the first step, you know? I’ve never been the lead with a potential client, and certainly not one of this magnitude. I’m sure Ben and Grant are having a meltdown over it, but Phillip has the final say.”
“Fuck those two. If they give you any shit, you just call me.”
She rolled onto her stomach and smiled. “Are you going to beat up everyone who gives me a hard time?”
“If you let me, yes. I still wish I would have punched Wes in the face. The dude just bugs me with his preppy-ass tweed coat.”
She put a hand over her mouth, more than aware that my little girl was in the house right now. “You want to punch him for wearing a fancy sports coat?”
“I want to punch him because he was the lucky bastard who got to marry you. You’re the best person I know, so I envy him that he got his shot with you.” I caught myself off guard as the words left my mouth.
But fuck it.
It was the truth.
“Yeah? Well, my mom’s due back from Barbados in a few days, and I think she’d beg to differ on that.”
“I think your mom is jealous of you. I’ve always thought that,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Barbie Duncan is not jealous of me. She can’t stand me most of the time.”
“Not true,” I said, tipping her chin up so she was looking at me. “You’ve always beat to your own drum. You didn’t want to do pageants, so you put your foot down. She was the one who’d followed in her mother’s footsteps and didn’t choose for herself. You loved horses, and you followed that passion and became a national champ. You love to paint, and you had several teachers tell you that you could have pursued it professionally. She envies your independence.”
“Yet I went to Harvard Law and became an attorney because I didn’t want to disappoint them.”
“There’s no shame in loving your family,” I said, putting my finger to her lips when she started to argue. “You love your mother whether you want to admit it or not. And you do love law; you’re a natural at winning arguments. And if you want to paint, there is nothing stopping you from doing it as a hobby. It doesn’t have to be your profession to start doing it again. Hell, Georgia plays more pickleball than most professional players.”
She chuckled. “Did I tell you that Lola wants me to paint a mural at the spa? It’s just been so long since I’ve painted, I don’t know if I’m any good anymore. Remember how I used to dream about having a room that looked out at the water where I’d spend my free time painting? Apparently, my younger self thought I’d be living this life of leisure.” She chuckled.
“I do. You talked about it for years.” I pushed up to sit and reached for her hand. “I want to show you something.”
I pulled on a pair of joggers, grabbed a white button-up from my closet, and helped her slip her arms into the sleeves, buttoning just a few center buttons. My dick was already hard again at the sight of her in my dress shirt.
I held my finger to my lips to remind her to keep it down, as Gracie was sleeping down the hall, and I reached for her hand. Presley hadn’t spent much time at my house, and I’d never taken her upstairs. Gracie and I had bedrooms on the main floor, along with her playroom and a guest room, but I’d built a loft upstairs. We tiptoed up the stairs, and the light from the moon illuminated the room.
“What is this?” she whispered as she took in the grand space with nothing more than a wood table that I’d used as a desk a few times.
“I don’t know. You told me to build it, and I did. I’ve used it as an office before, but I usually do all my paperwork in the kitchen. So, I haven’t decided what this is. I guess, in a way, this is your painting room.”
Her eyes were wet with emotion as she walked across the room to the row of windows looking out at the water. There were French doors that led to a little balcony.
“Cage,” she whispered as she stared out at the dark water in the distance. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Hey, I didn’t break every promise I made to you. It might not have led us to where we wanted to go, but I’ll tell you what…” I pulled her into my arms. “If you want to paint and look out at the water, this room will be here for you any time.”
A tear ran down her cheek. “Thank you.”
