She looked up at me, those intelligent eyes searching my face. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means you don’t have to handle anything alone anymore,” I said, stopping and turning to face her fully, my hands findingher waist like a magnet. “Whatever comes next, we face it together. That’s what the papers we just signed really mean.”
Her eyes grew wide as she processed what I was saying. I could see her mind working, trying to figure out if I meant it or if this was just more strategy.
“Like partners?”
“Like husband and wife,” I said simply, my thumbs brushing against the fabric of that red dress. “I know we started this out of necessity, but I need you to know—what I’m feeling right now has absolutely nothing to do with contracts or protection.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and I could practically hear her thinking, weighing what I’d just said against everything that had led us to this point. Then she reached up and touched my face, her palm warm against my cheek.
“Say what you really want to say,” she said softly.
I looked into her eyes and saw exactly what I’d been pretending not to see since that first night. All the careful distance we'd put between us hadn't done a thing.
“Can I trust you?” The words came out rougher than I’d intended. “Not just with your silence, not just with the legal shit. Can I trust you with this? With me? I don’t want to be played either.”
“I signed those papers, didn’t I?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She studied my face for another moment, then smiled. Not the polite professional smile she’d worn the first time I laid eyes on her. This one was real, and it made me pull her tighter.
“You can trust me, Lesley,” she said, pulling my face down toward hers.
When our lips met, I stopped thinking. She tasted like chocolate and wine, and I went back for more before I had made a decision about it. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and I let her pull me closer. I had been wanting exactly that since thefirst night I saw her. My hand slid across her exposed back, and I pressed harder into her, feeling a need I couldn’t hide. She felt it, hell, I wanted her to, and she didn’t pull away. She knew she was irresistible, built to be noticed, stepping out of the house like a million bucks with curves designed to test a man’s restraint. I forgot everything else. All I could think about was how she fit against me.
Perfect.
When we finally pulled back, we were both breathing like we’d run laps. Her lipstick was smudged. My composure was cracked. She looked like a woman kissed senseless. I looked like a man who’d do it again if she asked.
I leaned my forehead against hers. “Get home safe. Text me when you’re in. We got some shit to discuss tomorrow.”
She nodded, eyes still searching mine. No more words. Just understanding.
And when she stepped away, I knew. That kiss wasn’t part of the arrangement.
It was the beginning.
I was already on my second cup of coffee when I heard the private elevator ding. Eight-thirty on the dot. Punctual. I liked that about her.
When the doors opened, Colecion stepped out with that post-workout glow, carrying a canvas bag of groceries.
“Morning,” she said, setting the bag on my kitchen island.
“Morning. You brought food?”
“I figured we’d need to eat while we talked.” She started pulling out eggs, steaks, bacon, and fresh berries. “I felt like you didn’t know how to properly host. So, I’ll do it.”
She moved around my kitchen with confidence, and watching her work made it feel less like business and more like what she was... my wife.
“Do you cook when you’re nervous?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
She glanced up from cracking eggs into a bowl. “Who said I was nervous?”
“The way you’re avoiding looking at me for more than two seconds. The way you brought enough food to feed six people.” I took another sip of coffee, studying her face. “Last night was a lot. It’s okay to be nervous.”
Her hands stilled for just a moment before she went back to whisking eggs. “It was what it needed to be.”
