Joel’s good-natured expression faltered. A flame lit his eyes to a metallic silver, and a serious air thickened theroom as he watched her. For a few tense moments, they simply stared at each other across the room.
“Fuck, you deserve it.” His rumbling tone matched the inferno of his gaze.
“Deserve what?” Her own voice wavered as his intensity consumed the room.
“Everything, Lucy. You deserve everything. But especially your father’s company.”
When he came closer, her heart slammed against her rib cage. The thrill of having him within touching distance sent shock waves of electricity up and down her body.
Unsure of what she wanted, she took the smallest shuffle backward. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t care because he took another step in her direction. The kiss they’d shared at Hope’s gender-reveal party shoved its way to the forefront of her memory, and her gaze homed in on his firm lips as he pressed nearer. He was so close now she could smell every unique spicy scent of him, and her hormones went wild for it.
But for every heart-melting memory between them, there was a heart-breaking one to replace it. There’d been heat and adoration, followed by betrayal and communication breakdown. When they’d lost the one thing holding them together, everything had fallen apart. This time, she’d be careful not to get lost in his animal magnetism again.
This was bad, very,verybad. Her attraction to him was a storm. It always had been, and she needed to find a way to calm it if she was going to keep her sanity over the next year.
A year. She’d agreed to stay married to him for a year. And she’d been sober when she’d done it. Shit, she was screwed.
In an effort to re-establish control over the situation, shestepped away and took in the rest of the room. This time, he didn’t follow her.
“Well, it’s a lovely space. Gabe is right not to change it.”
Joel remained silent, and she felt stripped bare as he assessed her.
When he finally spoke, she was a mess of nerves. “Gabe’s done some upgrades, mostly things that help with insulation, and sound proofing with the bar downstairs. But he’s not interested in adding more units. Says he has no time to manage anymore overbearing tenants.”
“Hmm, overbearing. Sounds like you, Mr. Morgan.”
“Mr. Morgan,” Joel murmured with a laugh. “That’s my father. And I haven’t quite earned that honor yet.”
“I’d say you’ve more than earned it.”
How could he not think so? Apparently, he was a Forbes billionaire! But the odd insecurity in his gaze reminded her of what she’d often felt herself.
When your father was a man like Walter Morgan or Luciano Barone, well respected in the community, loved by all, a powerhouse in business—you ended up spending a lifetime trying to live up to their potential, and never quite feeling like you’ve made it.
She didn’t have the answer for Joel. If she did, she wouldn’t even be in the position she was in. So Lucy opted to lighten the mood with a joke. “Maybe you’d prefer something more suitable to your personality then, like,Sir.”
The designation seemed fitting, he was so damn authoritative and austere, but she realized her mistake almost instantly. The electricity in the room climbed several volts.
“I haven’t earned that one yet either.” His eyes flickered, two stormy swirls of promise. This wasn’t business Joel talking, it was sex god Joel. He could earn any title he wanted, and he’d do so easily.
She knew it.
She swallowed and looked away, breaking the spell once more. “Um, I should unpack and—things.”
“And things?” His smile reflected the things they would have gotten up to in another lifetime, but he took a step toward the door. “Old building, no ensuite. The shower is down the hall. I installed a removable head when I moved in, which you might find enjoyable.” With a cheeky wink, he left the room.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lucy hadn’t needed a shower but took one anyway just to give her a little breathing room from Joel and all his…Joel-ness. Purposefully, she left the removable shower head in place. The last thing she needed was for him to overhear her from down the hall.
When she emerged from the bathroom, relaxed and refreshed, a spicy scent hit her nostrils and her stomach rumbled in a reminder that it must have been dinnertime.
Sure enough, when she rounded the corner from the hallway, Joel was carrying two steaming plates to the dining room table.
An annoyingly shrewd smirk broke out on his face. “Nice shower?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” It could have been fan-fucking-tastic, but her PG version wasn’t bad either.
