“You look very handsome, Hotshot,”Sass says, running her hands down the front of my freshly starched shirt. I wince, thinking how much can go wrong wearing a white shirt without a jacket. I can’t go into a meeting with dirt on my shirt, or food, or residue from the lotion she just put on her hands not five minutes ago.
The Monday morning sun still rests below the tops of the surrounding buildings, leaving the much-needed light for getting ready just beyond reach. I didn’t bother turning on the overhead light, trying to be respectful of Delaney’s sleep. It’s not unusual for me to be awake this early, but I have a feeling she isn’t used to it.
But she crawled out of bed and rubbed her eyes as I slid a white button-up over my cast. After pressing her lips to mine, she ambled into the bathroom to be with me. She might be new to my morning routine, but I like her here. Even if she doesn’t hustle at this hour the way I do.
I stopped asking questions last night, deciding that dailylife with her would be served on a platter of surprises. Each revelation would have its time to shine. It goes against my nature, how I was raised, and the makeup of my being. It’s just what I needed to shake me back into living my life again. The ordinary has become extraordinary because Delaney has steamrolled her way into my life and shaken up my world.
It doesn’t bother me so much, not even the mark she left on my shirt. Much. “Since I can’t wear a jacket, I think I’ll pull on a sweater.”
“In May?”
“It’s thin, like a spring sweater.”
Her gaze glides down the shirt to the spot, and then she looks back up at me. “I have an idea that might look nice and less wintry. Stay right here.” She runs back down the hall to the bedroom. She’s dressed in a T-shirt from a half-marathon I ran four years ago, and I don’t think much else, which allows me a peekaboo view of the lower curve of her ass when the shirt lifts in the back. I stay where I was told.
I check the time on my watch. I always arrive early, and most of the time, I’m flicking the lights on at the office. There’s still time to get in before most, but time is ticking by too fast and kicking in some of the unease that’s built into me. I like to be early. Not on time. Definitely not late. Early to any event, to work, and anywhere else I need to be. Is this something else I’ll need to sacrifice to be with her? If it is, it’s going to be a harder habit to break, but I’m sure she’ll manage to do it.
“Here,” she says, returning with a vest held in her hands. Holding it in front of me, she’s hidden behind it. “Thoughts?”
“I think I’m looking at the third piece of a three-piece suit.”
She grins up at me. “Warner, it’s fine if you don’t have the jacket.”
“It’s two pieces and not even the first two. You can’t skip the second piece. That’s madness.” Trying to reason through this, I explain, “It’s like eating lasagna without the noodles. It would be a mess.”
Lowering the vest to her side, she angles her head and laughs. “That’s ridiculous. The noodles are literally what make it lasagna.”
She’s not the only one who knows how to trigger someone. I shrug. “I consider the meat sauce to be the heart of lasagna.”
Her head jerks unnaturally as her expression scrunches. “What are you talking about? Lasagna doesn’t even need meat in the mix to be lasagna. Sure, it’s nice, and even a delicious addition, but that’s all it is. An addition for variety.”Mission accomplished.She tosses the vest on the back of the couch. “Fine, don’t wear it.” I’m not sure why she’s suddenly so attached to a vest, but disappointment ruins her smile. I did that, and over an item of clothing.So not worth it.
“Fuck it. Who needs rules when we can live in total chaos? I’ll wear the vest.”
As if she’s been given ice cream for breakfast, her smile returns, and it’s bigger than ever. “Really?”
“Really.”
She grabs it and helps to slip it over my broken arm and then the other. “This will help cover any marks or stains. So you can focus on your bigwig deals instead of that mark I accidentally left on your shirt.”
I’m not as slick as I thought I was. Cupping my face, she says, “Have I told you how sexy I think you are with a black eye?”
The confession comes out of left field like so many other of her whims. Chuckling, I ask, “You like that, huh?”
“Makes you look tough.” Lifting onto her toes, she kisses me.
Typically, I’d soak in a compliment, but this one stumps me because I’m reminded of how she once said she figured me for a brownie guy because they’re soft. “I don’t think that’s the compliment you think it is.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“Nowthatis something I’ve never been told before.” I can’t keep up with her. Since I haven’t had coffee, it’s probably best if I don’t try. Wrapping my arm around her, I bring her in for another kiss. “I need to go.” It’s tempting to ask her how she’ll spend her day, but something tells me I don’t want to know. Or, if she does answer, it won’t contain the full story. That will just start the cycle over again.Let it go, Landers.I kiss her once more and start moving toward the door with her still attached. By the time we reach the entry, she plucks her lips from mine and steps back. Though two fingers remain hooked around a belt loop even as I reach for the door. “I’ll leave you the key.”
It’s just a nod, but I can see the water gathering in her eyes as if I’m leaving her for good. I return to her, lifting her chin and kissing her once more. I trail kisses toward her ear, and then whisper, “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Later.”
This time, I leave without looking back. I open the door and walk toward the elevator with heavy steps. The loud click of it closing behind me doesn’t bring me comfort, though all I wanted at the end of last week was freedom from her. The elevator arrives, but my gut suddenly twists. I look back, the fear of never seeing her again washing through me.
Don’t be ridiculous.
