Hell, I’ve waited this long; what’s a little longer?
I start the car and push the button to warm Sutton’s seat, then reach to put her address into the navigation system and realize I have no clue where the woman lives. I’ve learned a lot about her over the years, but discovering her home address has always felt like a line crossed, so I’ve refrained from that search. My hand hovers over the touchscreen on the dash, the navigation screen open and waiting for me to enter a destination.
Looking over at her, I briefly consider taking her to my place. I have plenty of guest rooms, some that have never even been used, but—
I whistle lowly as I realize what an epic mistake that would be.
If she woke up in my house, she’d be in the same place where Dominus trapped her in the bathroom last week. On topof what a shock that might be, I’m certainly not prepared for the conversation that would follow.
Like I said, terrible timing.
“Sutton,” I say, nudging her thigh. “Wake up, darlin’.”
Her eyes open and she sits straight up, blinking like it takes her a moment to register her surroundings.
When she finally focuses on me, I motion toward the touchscreen. “You need to give me your address or tell me how to get to your place.”
Sutton barks out a laugh. “I’m not going home with you.”
I’m careful not to let my amusement show. Three minutes of napping and she’s back to the woman I know. She probably has no recollection that she asked me for a kiss.
“I’m not taking you home with me, Sutton, I’mdrivingyou home, making sure you get theresafely, and then you will sleep this off,by yourself.”
She struggles to keep at least one eye open as she focuses on me. “What if I want to go to your house?”
I’ve waited so long for her to say that, but she’s shitfaced, and I’m not a fucking creep. With a sigh, I shake my head. “Not tonight.”
“You’re married.”
I level her with a look that says I know she knows I’m not, then press a button on the steering wheel. When the dash lights up purple, I say, “Call Nina.”
“Ah,” Sutton says, “Nina, the wife.”
“Work wife,” I admit.
It only rings once and Nina picks up. “It’s eleven o’clock at night, Maxwell.” Nina’s voice is heavy with sleep.
“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.” She huffs, but doesn’t retort, so I continue, “I need a phone number for an Imogen…?”
“Kelly,” Sutton provides.
“Imogen Kelly. She lives in…?”
“WeHo.”
“Got it,” Nina says. “You couldn’t have googled this yourself?”
“Do I not pay you enough, String-bean?”
My assistant sighs. “No, you don’t, Maxipad.”
Sutton rolls her head to look at me, one eyebrow cocked adorably.
“I’ll text you the number.” Nina ends the call, and before Sutton can get hung up on Nina’s nickname for me, I explain my nickname for her.
“We grew up together,” I say as I wait for the text to come through. “Me, Gray, Nina, and a few others who’ve made the move to be in L.A. and help out at Apex. She was Nina-bina when we were kids, then Neen-bean.” I shrug. “Eventually String-bean just sort of stuck.”
“I bet she loves that,Maxipad.”
