“Nope,” he whispers in my ear, removing my hand from the zipper, kissing my neck from behind. He eases the zipper down, moving his hands past the waistband around my hips and letting the skirt fall to the floor before pulling me flush against his body. I loosen the buttons on my shirt, fumbling on the second one as his breath fans over the sensitive parts of my neck. “Take this off,” he murmurs, nudging the collar of my shirt with his nose to kiss my shoulder.
“Baby, I’m trying…” I answer breathlessly, closing my eyes in a moment of pleasure, silently kicking myself for wearing a buttoned blouse today. Chase laughs quietly and moves his hands from my hips, circling around my ribs to grip the sides of my shirt. With one firm tug, buttons fly across the room, making me gasp in surprise. “My shirt?—”
“I’ll get you another shirt,” he mumbles against my skin, sweeping my hair to the side before easing the sleeves down my arms. He presses kisses along my shoulder, and I shiver as his fingers slide up my torso, swiftly turning me around to face him. His eyes are deep blue flames, burning trails in my skin as he takes in every inch of me. In all the years we’ve been together, he still looks at me just as intensely as the first day we met. It’s easy to let myself get lost in those eyes. I reach for him, lacing my fingers around the back of his neck to guide him to my lips. He wraps his arms around my thighs, lifting me up, and I hug my legs around his waist as he walks us to the bed.
Chase lays me on the pillows, tugging my tights and panties off before standing to whip the polo over his head. “Socks,” I tease, propping up on my elbows.
He looks at his toes, realizes they’re already bare, and squintsat me before smiling. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?” he asks, kicking off his pants.
“Never.” I smirk, shaking my head as he hovers over me. My hands move up his firm biceps, resting on his shoulders as he leans in for another kiss.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” he whispers into me, lips trailing down my body. The delicious burn of his stubble brushing against my skin elicits a moan as he presses soft kisses along my thigh. I shiver, spreading for him as he inches toward my center. The way he’s memorized me—anticipating the moves my senses will respond to, covering me with the lightest of his touches—has me reeling.
“I love you,” I sigh, losing myself in the tingling warmth of his tongue. Savoring this small moment of connection, I fully give in to his touch and sink into the comfort of his love.
With our chest’s heaving, I roll over and prop my chin on his shoulder, staring up at him. His eyes are closed as he moves his hand to rest on top of mine, mindlessly flicking the ring on my thumb while catching his breath. “How’s the engagement party coming along?” he asks, coming down from his high.
I take a couple of breaths before answering, letting the passionate haze dissipate. “It’s good. Joan’s really excited, and I’m satisfied with the way everything came together so quickly. I’ll send you pictures before it starts.”
He nods, still playing with the ring on my thumb. “Do you even want to get married?” he finally asks.
“Chase Wilmington, if this is you proposing?—”
“It’s not,” he says quickly, smiling. His eyes are open now, staring at the ceiling fan above us. “We haven’t talked about it in a while, and I just thought I’d check in. It’s okay if you don’t. You already know there’s no one else for me, and I’m pretty sure you like me at least a little bit.” I nudge his shoulder, and his grin turns wide as he squeezes my hand.
“Yeah, someday. To you even…” I tease, moving myself up on my elbow to fully see his face. “I just don’t feel any rush. But I know we’ll get to it sooner or later. Whenever it happens, it happens.””
He nods, locking his eyes to mine. We watch each other for several seconds, just staring.
“What?” I ask, tilting my head.
“I love you.” He smiles, and I could melt. I already have melted. He gets all my soft and gooey parts, all my stubborn and feisty parts—everything. He loves everything, Heiseverything.
Almost all ofthe supplies have been delivered—flowers, food, even the DJ is set up in the corner. The only thing we’re waiting on is that stupid banner. It was the one thing Joan was adamant about. If it doesn’t show up, I might flip a table. We have less than an hour before the guests arrive, and I keep looking out the window for the delivery truck.
After a prolonged goodbye at the airport with Chase, I landed in LA yesterday. I’m staying with Ashlie until I leave Sunday, much to the disappointment of Chase’s mom, Christine. Chase boarded one of the EdTechU company planes this morning for Chicago. I was still bummed about losing time together this weekend, so Ashlie took me out to lunch today before dropping me off here at the venue.
I’m wrapping champagne-colored satin ribbon around the centerpiece vases, trying to finish up the table decorations, when Patti calls me from the kitchen, using her we-have-a-problem voice.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, smoothing out my pink floral dress and moving to the back of the kitchen. Working for Patti has been seamless. She hired me right out of the internship, and being quick on my feet earned me the senior event planner title I hold today. I haven’t met a party planning obstacle I can’t solve, and we’re not going to start today with this VIP Client.
“Well, it looks like the bakery sent over one hundred mini cupcakes in boxes instead of fifty regular cupcakes. And they forgot the three-tiered stand.” She flips open one of the white bakery boxes, waving her hand over it with a flourish. “Oh, and they’re smashed.”
I look over her shoulder where the tiny pink and white frosting-covered pastries sit scattered inside two large sheet cake boxes, with no stabilizer to keep them from toppling into each other. The bottoms of the cupcakes are all bare—the baker didn’t even bother using cupcake liners. What a disaster.
I sigh, looking at my watch as I try to think of how to salvage the mess-in-a-box in time for the event. I also make a mental note to never use this bakery again. Closing my eyes, I think of what my alternative cake stand could be. The boxes won’t work, and I don’t remember seeing any cake stands when we took inventory of the kitchen.
Remembering the silver serving platters I saw tucked away in a cupboard, I pop my eyes open and maneuver around the counter to pull out three of the shiny dishes. I take them with me and walk back into the main room, not speaking as I let the cogs in my brain propel me to work through this solution. Double-checking that it’s markedfood safe, I grab the extra pack of centerpiece doily paper and get to work. The lacy paper is just smaller than the space within the trays, making it a perfect fit. I take my armful of supplies back to the kitchen.
“Whatcha got?” Patti asks, watching my process.
“I need food gloves, and skewers or toothpicks.” I say distractedly, searching through drawers. She joins in, starting with the drawers on her side. We meet in the middle, finally coming across a half-empty box of long toothpicks and a full box of short ones.
I wash and dry the serving trays, slip on some thin disposable food service gloves, and get to work centering the doilies on the trays. Patti follows my line of thinking with the toothpicks, skewering two mini cupcakes straight through the middle with the long sticks and one cupcake on the short. We both arrange thepastries on the trays, salvaging all but four, and I stand back to look at the new display.
“Nice work,” Patti says, nodding with her hands on her hips. “I knew there was a good reason I hired you.” The boss is satisfied, and so am I.
I check my watch again. Twenty minutes till showtime. “Thanks Pat,” I say before scurrying back to the main room to finish tying bows around flowers. I make it with seven minutes to spare, rushing around to clean up what little scraps are still lying around the room. Patti has already moved the cupcakes to their designated table, and I give the room another once-over, snapping a couple of pictures before disappearing into the kitchen. I send the pictures of my work to Chase, the first I’ve been able to text him all afternoon.
