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“Okay,” Clay says and turns back. As always, he knows me by instinct. He doesn’t even give me a questioning look.
Meanwhile Amber’s face isn’t looking any better. I escort her out to the back. “Sorry, Wyatt isn’t here yet. He’s home with Matty.”
“It’s okay. I’ll get a cab.”
That’ll be one hell of an expensive ride, but at this stage she probably doesn’t care.
“No, Joe will drive you home.” I radio in Joe, who immediately drives my Aston Martin right in front of us. “Remember him? He had to cancel driving you that night because his kid was sick. He would be very happy to take you home tonight.”
“Miss Cannizzaro,” Joe greets her.
She nods at him with a smile. “Thanks. I’m sorry, Rob,” she says and hops in.
“Don’t worry about it. I had a great night,” I say. “Call you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
My heart takes a nosedive as I watch the car disappearing into the night. Amber is in there, and she’s gone.
I touch my lips, still trembling from that incredible kiss. I didn’t plan it, but it happened. Just like it should have happened!
A text pings on my cell.
I truly had a lovely time. Please be a good Captain Robson tonight, for me.
My sinking heart slowly makes its way up. Her message fills me with fluff, like I’ve turned into a teddy myself. My instincts say I’ve found the one.
I have no choice but to trust it. The alternative would be too devastating.
16
AMBER
Now I’ve learned that a day spent with that man is always a day that demands everything of me. My stupid fear had sent me home prematurely, but last night was a start. His kisses reminded me that I’ve found that elusive connection—beyond the passion, beyond the pleasure. If every man kissed like Rob, no women would ever wonder whether life had a meaning.
But with every start, there comes a next step. What will it be for me? I want to be the right one for Rob, not just someone who goes along for the ride with a see-what-happens mentality. That means my next step will include telling him who I really am, and maybe after that, it will be to confront my fear of boats.
I guess that’s for another day.
For now, I’m back in my comfort zone at Amber The Mender as I welcome my cute-as-a-button customer, four-year-old Belle.
“There we go, sweetie.” I hand over a shaggy sloth bear toy to her.
Belle beams, checking out her teddy’s newly reinstated nose. “Thanks, Ambear.”
That call always tickles me in the heart.
“You’re welcome.” I kneel in front of her. “Thanks for waiting so patiently.”
Her mother tugs the girl slowly toward the door—
The door which Rob, looking every bit a billionaire in his gray formal suit and tie (an ensemble he should’ve worn last night), opens gently, as if he was a humble concierge.
After Belle and her mother leave, he greets me, “Hey there.” It’s not the greeting of a concierge, but that of a boyfriend who’s delighted to see his girl.
Not expecting him to be here in the flesh, I freeze. He said he’d call, not come. What am I going to say about last night?
“Hey,” I reply, almost inaudibly.
