I shake my head at him, and pick up my mug, gripping it between both hands.
“You look fucking hot in my shirt, Ari. In fact, I think you should always wear my shirt, and nothing else.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes. Well, apart from when you wear heels and diamonds, then you can lose the shirt.”
“I’ll bear that in mind next time I wear my hoard of diamonds,” I reply, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to drink this on the balcony. Will you join me?”
“Sure,” he says, stepping aside. “Ladies first.”
I know he’s making me go first so he can watch me from behind. It takes me half a breath to propel my legs forward, but I do it, and it’s not as hard as I think. Each time it gets easier to let him look. Each time I enjoy it more when he looks. I even walk away with a little sway in my hips, and a smile on my lips.
We sit at the bistro table, enjoying the morning sun before it gets too hot. Denham takes my hand from across the little table and strokes the back of it with his thumb.
“I have work to do today.” He sighs regretfully. “I’m sorry. I swear the fucking place would grind to a halt if I wasn’t here to crack the whip.”
My eyes widen. “You have a whip?” I joke.
“Yeah, darlin’. How’d you think I keep those lazy horses working hard?” He winks and smiles with such affection, I could kiss him all over.
“So, will you be gone all day?” I ask, disappointed already.
“Mostly. There’s so much to do. Crap to sort out. I tried to pawn it off on someone else but there are things that only I can do. I tried to get a hold of my mom to come sit with you, but she’s busy and Lottie and Spike aren’t picking up their cells. Probably be midday before they surface, so…”
“Denham.”
“I’ll pop back as often as I can—”
“Denham!” I say a little louder and he stops talking. “I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want you on your own, Ari.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But I have to be on my own sometime.”
“What if—”
“I’m not gonna pass out again.”
“How do you know? We haven’t had the tests back yet. We don’t know what happened last time. What if you’re epileptic or something triggers it again, and next time you really hurt yourself?”
I lift my mug to my lips and try to cover my smile. He’s sweet. He doesn’t like to think it, but he is.
“What’s so funny?” he asks with a frown.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“You’re waffling,” I say. I place my mug down on the table and walk over to him. I rest my hands on his shoulders, squeezing his tight muscles, which are bunched from his concern for me. I kiss the top of his head, and let my lips linger there. “You’re so sweet,” I murmur.
“Well, you’re just full of compliments this morning, aren’t you?”
“Look,” I say, matter-of-factly. “I feel great today. I’m not going to go anywhere or do anything while you’re gone. I’m not going to try and go to the gym, or go shopping or anything like that, yet. I’m just going to lounge around, maybe sketch a little. I should really call Beth, too. So, you go run your empire. Call me, text me. Whatever you like. But I don’t want you to worry about me.”
I straddle his hips, inadvertently pulling his head into my chest to keep my balance. He raises his eyes to mine and grins.
“Is this your way of taking my mind off the conversation?”
