“Pretty sure it was yours.”
“Must have been. I’m not as bright as people give me credit for. I really should be working.”
“Yes, as much as I didn’t want to tell you, you’re under a terrible deadline.”
Chuckling, I find myself reaching out for her hand when we swing toward each other. I take hold of it and we both stop and just look at each other. Her skin is warmth and satin and is absolutely irresistible to me. Rubbing my thumb over her knuckles, I glance at her beautiful mouth and let myself wish for a moment. For what, I don’t know, but for something other than the existence I’ve known. Maybe I’d like to see the world through her eyes, missing the stars, unabashedly trusting people, and believing love could be real.
We’re both fully clothed and yet I feel stripped bare in front of her. Even though I’m a little buzzed, I can’t help but still feel like this is all too much. More than it should be, more than it can be, and yet…
Maybe she’s feeling the same way, because she suddenly closes her eyes. Grinning, she says, “Let’s sleep out here tonight.”
“All right, Emma. Anything you want.”
A moment later, her breathing becomes heavy and her grip loosens. Her arm drops down beside her hammock and I feel a strange pang as I watch her sleep.
I stare at her just long enough to burn her image into my brain so I’ll be able to recall her lying next to me even when I’m ninety-five. After a few moments, I decide enough is enough. I steady myself as I stand, and carefully lift her out of the hammock and carry her inside. I know my hand will hurt like a bugger tomorrow, but at the moment, I couldn’t care less. I have her in my arms now and that’s all that matters, really.
I walk her to the bedroom and lay her down on the giant bed, then, unable to stop myself, I brush the back of my forefinger against her cheek.
She smiles without opening her eyes and turns toward my hand.
Covering her with the duvet, I whisper, “Good night, beautiful girl.”
Then I take a deep breath, turn, and walk out to get back to work.
22
Chocolate Cake and Other Dangerous Cravings
Emma
I wake feeling disoriented and pat my hands on the bed, trying to figure out where I am. The last thing I remember is the stars and Pierce’s smiling face. Were we holding hands? Yes, I think we were.
I open my eyes and blink for a moment, seeing that the sky is starting to light up ever so slightly, causing a muted orange glow to the room. I listen carefully but don't hear anything coming from outside the bedroom. I'm not sure what I was dreaming about, but I know it had something to do with Pierce because of the warm gooey feeling in my chest like melted chocolate in fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies.
I want him.
That is an undeniable fact that I haven't told anyone else. I've never met a man like him before—someone so sure about everything, including how hopeless humans are as a species. I wholeheartedly disagree, but at the same time, I can’t help but respect the hell out of his conviction. There’s nothing wishy-washy about Pierce Davenport. Nothing soft (especially not that body, but I digress).
Our evening's conversation comes rushing to mind and I feel sad for him in a way that I haven't felt for anyone before. I may have lost my parents when I was a little girl, but as far as I can tell he never had any to begin with. When you know you’re loved and that you matter to people in this world, even if they disappear suddenly, you take that love with you wherever you go and you know without a doubt that it exists. I don’t think he has ever felt like he mattered to anyone, and the thought of that is absolutely unimaginable.
Tears fill my eyes and I sit up, trying to convince myself not to feel sad for him and to remind myself that this is not what my heart thinks it is. It's just a business deal, and we’re just using each other to get what we each need. I help him and he'll let me be a hero to my friends and family. He'll also put me years ahead in my plan for world cuisine domination.
But still, it’s probably okay to let myself dream a little about what it would be like if this was the start of something wonderful…
His smile pops into my mind and his deep, full, sexy-as-hell laugh. The smell of his aftershave comes to mind next. He carries the light scent of a man who has it all, including the answers. Now, the words I typed earlier fill my brain and warm my insides. They call to me to go find him and experience his touch for myself, even though I know it would be both wrong and a complete disaster.
Well, wrong, yes, but calling it a disaster might be a bit dramatic. How much of a disaster would it really be to have multiple orgasms provided by a ridiculously hot man who happens to be asleep on the other side of that door?
And howwrongreally? It’s not like either of us would be betraying anyone. We’re both decidedly unattached. We’re both consenting adults. Well, if we consented that is. And we’d both receive a great deal of satisfaction from the experience, wouldn’t we?
Yes. Yes, we would.
And even better, we’d both know exactly what it is and what it isn’t. It’s not long-term. It’s not a ‘relationship.’ It would just be lots of amazing sex between two consenting, lust-filled adults who happen to be on a private island paradise together for a few weeks…
Okay, Emma. That's all just crazy talk. You can't have him now and you never will, so just try to think of something else to satisfy you.
Chocolate. There are two slices of Belgian chocolate cake in the fridge that we left uneaten. If Pierce didn’t get to them after I went to sleep—okay, passed out, I can admit it—they both have my name on them.
