“That was buzzing in your bag,” he said and handed it to me.
I took a sip of my coffee and saw I had a voicemail.
Interesting.
I flipped open the phone, went to voicemail, hit play on the only voicemail that had ever been left on that phone, and put it to my ear.
“Well done, Angels,” Morgan Freeman’s voice said.
I flipped the phone shut on a smile.
“Good?” Gabe asked.
I looked to my handsome man.
Then I leaned into my handsome man and gave him a kiss.
“Everything’s awesome,” I whispered.
After saying that, I grabbed a crumb cake and sat back with it and my coffee.
And in bed with my guy, my Gabe…
I lazed.
TWENTY-SEVEN
SMASHING SUCCESS
Six days later…
Gabe and I sat on the patio outside Binkley’s.
I was having a moment with an amuse-bouche.
Gabe was having another moment (it was far from the first that night) with my bare legs.
Watching him have his moment, I decided to wear dresses and heels more often.
Gabe decided to tear his eyes from my legs in order to lean toward the little table in front of us where the server put a plate of bite-size works of art that started our evening’s culinary extravaganza.
In his move, I caught the black cashmere material of Gabe’s sweater lovingly hugging his shoulder and lat.
I reacted instantly to that visual stimulus.
My condition didn’t improve when he sat back, and I saw the way the dark-gray lightweight wool trousers molded to the muscles of his knee and thigh with such precision, a sculptor could use it to carve his naked thigh to perfection.
Thus, I was having a different kind of moment, and my new moment meant I had to uncross my legs and cross them again.
Doing this, I decided Gabe and I had to have these special nights more often if I got to see him dressed up like that.
It was casual, just a nice crewneck sweater and trousers.
But it packed a punch.
Even as Gabe put the food in his mouth, he caught my leg shift, and his attention dropped to them again.
I did not miss the lazy, heated possession in his gaze as he chewed and swallowed at the same time skated a hand over my shoulder exposed by the sleeveless, high neck, halter-top dress I wore.
