“What do you say?” he asks. “Want to give this a shot?”
“You and me, you mean?” I grin and nod. “Definitely.”
“Then let’s get Annabelle back in here.”
I raise an eyebrow, not sure if he’s suggesting some crazy threesome thing to cap off The Test.
But as soon as he opens the hall door, Annabelle bounds in and smiles at us. “I take it you decided to do the couples’ massage class?”
I look at Dax. “Couples’ massage class?”
“Yep,” he says. “I want us to learn something new together. Something that’ll make us both feel good for a long time to come.”
I smile and stroke a finger over his palm. “One of many things,” I murmur as we turn and follow Annabelle into the couples’ suite.
Epilogue
Dax
“Would you like a gourmet s’more, sir?”
The tray appears with a flourish in front of me, but I’m more interested in the woman holding it.
Catching Lisa by the waist, I pull the s’mores tray from her hand and set it on the workbench behind me. The scarred wood surface is covered with a linen tablecloth and a vase of lilies, but it’s a workbench all the same.
Three well-dressed art enthusiasts skirt around us, helping themselves to a s’more en route to the next cluster of sculptures on display.
Lisa giggles as I press her against the wall for a kiss. “Did I ever tell you that you look fucking sexy in an apron?”
“Sir!” She pretends to be appalled, but the flush in her cheeks tells me she loves it. “We’re at a gallery opening!” she scolds with mock indignation. “What sort of savages would engage in carnal relations at a sophisticated event celebrating arts and culture?”
I growl against her throat, kissing my way to her earlobe. “The kind of savage who holds his own art gallery opening in a steel fabrication warehouse.” I nip at her ear before letting her go. “And the sexy woman who came up with the idea in the first place.” I give her butt a fond squeeze. “Thanks again.”
She beams and glances around at the crowd. “I’m really impressed by the turnout.”
“Me, too.” I survey the room, a little dumbfounded by the number of people who showed up to gawk at steel art constructed by some no-name welder who just happened to make a wolf sculpture. And a tiger.
And then a dancer and enough other random objects that Lisa finally said it was a shame to keep them cooped up in a warehouse where no one else could see them.
I’ve gotta admit, it’s been cool to have other people checking out my work.
A wet nose jabs into the back of my hand, and I look down at the baleful eyes of my dog. Well, our dog—mine and Lisa’s. Part bloodhound, part great-Dane, she looks like a steer with a thyroid condition. One of her long ears has gotten stuck under her lacy pink collar, and I untuck it as gently as possible.
“Hello, Miss Kitty,” I say. “How’s the party treating you?”
“She’s been a little naughty,” Lisa says. “I caught her begging Cassie for canapes.”
“The smoked salmon or the ones with the butternut squash and goat cheese?”
“The salmon, of course,” she says. “But Cassie gave her one of each to see which one she liked best.”
I pat the dog on the head. “Atta girl. A lady with a refined palate.”
Lisa laughs and picks up the tray of s’mores. “I should finish handing these out to guests,” she says. “Then I have a surprise to show you.”
I perk up at that, wondering if she bought another sexy lingerie set. I’ve become a big fan of La Perla over the last year. “Does the surprise involve you taking off your clothes?”
Lisa laughs and gives me a haughty expression. “As a matter of fact, it does.”
