“You’re welcome,” he settled with as he brought the coffee pot to where she was now sitting cross-legged on a dining chair. “Would you like more?”
“Coffee, or…?” She let the innuendo hang there.
He cast her a warning look. She’d already pushed the limits of his restraint last night. If she chose to play with fire, he could make it burn.
“You’re too easy.” She giggled then nodded in the direction of the coffee, and he poured.
When he was done, he shoved a plate of fresh croissants he’d picked up earlier in front of her. “Breakfast of champions.”
She immediately grabbed one and bit into it.
Damn, she was cute. Fresh faced and relaxed. The opposite of the stunning showstopper she’d been last night. He loved both versions. All versions. There wasn’t a single version of Luciana Barone that he wouldn’t marry over and over again.
The ring on her finger sparkled as she lifted her cup up to her lips. When she caught him staring, she quickly put her cup down and sat on her hand. “Now that I’m wearing it, it does feel a bit ostentatious. Vanessa said I needed a bodyguard for it. I can return it for a different one if you want.”
“Do you like the ring, Lucy?” he asked as he strolled over to her.
She nodded slowly. “Of course I do. I mean, who wouldn’t?”
He gently tugged her hand out from under her butt. “Then we’re not returning it. And I expect you to wear it everywhere you go.”
“Right, so the whole world knows I’m yours.” Then she had the gall to roll her eyes when there was a fifty-thousand-dollar ring sitting on her finger.
He had to wander back into the kitchen to hide his smile. “Yes. That’s right.” He opened the fridge and pulled out the tomato juice he’d bought. “Want some of this?”
When he set the glass of thick red juice in front of her, she blinked at it, then back at him. “Tomato juice.”
He nodded as he sat down beside her. “Yes, the best hangover cure, right?”
“You remembered.”
The morning after they’d woken in Vegas, they’d shared the mother of all hangovers. Probably a thousand times worse than what she was feeling right now. Neither of them had many memories of exactly what happened the night before. Only a highlight reel of an Elvis impersonator, a Chippendale witness, and a trip to a souvenir shop for a cheap silver ring. The sex that had followed, yeah, not even being dead could have killed that memory. But save those snippets, most of it had been hazy.
Lucy had Googledhow to cure a hangover in less than a day.The search had brought up a tomato juice hack that promised to instantly relieve even the worst hangovers. So Joel had dragged his half-deceased body out of the hotel room and found the nearest kiosk that sold it. They’d spent the morning chugging bottles, showering together, and making love again.
“I told you. I remember everything.” The entire four months of bliss with her were a core memory.
Her eyes narrowed, but never left his as she took the glass. “I wouldn’t really call this a hangover, but thanks.” She swallowed some of the juice and winced. “Ugh. I forgot how bad that tastes. Promise me that no matter how bad our engagement party on Saturday gets, you will not let me get drunk.”
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’ll have your back.”
Lucy choked on the croissant she’d been chewing, making Joel wonder if she’d been remembering how well he’d had her back last night. Literally holding her as they sunk to their knees, her back pressed against his chest, his fingers buried inside her, finishing her off.
He cleared his throat. “I thought I would take you to the construction site this morning.” Strangely, he was nervous about inviting her to see his Portland project. He’d taken her to worksites before because he’d always valued her opinion about business.
Lucy had fantastic ideas, a keen eye for detail, and was far better at seeing outside the box than he was. Which was why he was apprehensive about bringing her today. He was trying something far outside the Morgan Construction box and what she thought about it mattered to him. Unless, of course, she didn’t want to go…and judging by the blank look on her face, he couldn’t exactly tell.
“Look, you?—”
“I’d love to,” she interrupted, and his heart started a happy dance. “Let me put something on other than pajamas, and I’ll be ready to go.”
Before he could say another word, she stood and walked back to her bedroom, leaving him sitting at the table with only his sheer relief and a tomato juice as company.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The new Morgan Construction build was located on the other side of town. As they drove there, Lucy took in the surrounding neighborhood from the passenger window. The eclectic mix of high-rises and businesses hugging the periphery of downtown created a perfect place to put up an apartment building. The area was a good location, on transit routes, walkable, but not quite in the dense part of the urban core. Location was everything, and Joel knew how to pick it.
“As soon as we realized Hope was going to settle down in Portland, Dad and I figured it made sense to expand the business here,” Joel explained as they drove. “We saw this strip of land for sale and snapped it up.”
