I want to say yes so badly it’s physically painful.
But also... reality check.
Billionaire chef?
With someone like me?
Has to be beer goggles.
Or desperation.
The same kind of drug-induced insanity that happened in Vegas.
And also, what about that whole, brother’s best friend thing? Ethan wouldn’t be very happy with either of us if I took Marco and climbed his tree.
Mmm.. but I bet his tree tastes so good.
Stop!
“What about your kid?” I ask, because I need a reason to slam on the brakes before I do something stupid.
He shrugs. “Taken care of. The nanny’s there. Different floor.”
I grunt before I can stop myself. “Like I want to meet the nanny.”
Where did that come from?
Jealousy?
Over a nanny?
Get it together, Jess.
But something about the idea of going to his place and having some other woman be there, even if she’s just an employee on a different floor, feels weird and complicated and I don’t want to deal with it.
“You know what,” I say, making a decision that’s probably going to haunt me. “No.”
Disappointment washes over him. It’s almost heart-breaking, considering I’m not finished.
“Youcome over,” I blurt out. “My place instead. One night.”
Marco blinks.
I’ve surprised him.
Good.
I’ve surprised myself, too.
“Your place,” he repeats.
“Yeah. My tiny, probably messy apartment where you’ll have to sit on my IKEA furniture and pretend it’s comfortable. Where there’s no staff and no nanny and no...” I gesture vaguely. “No billionaire infrastructure. Just... me.”
He studies me for a long moment. Then he nods. “You are all I need. Deal.”
Deal.
We just made a deal.
