I’m cramming to get my own work done, too.
Well, at the moment I’m staring out the window and thinking about what I’ve packed for a week in the Hamptons. It’s all a part of the creative process.
I doodle an oversized beach umbrella with feet sticking out from beneath it. Not exactly the task on my to-do list, but it’s a drawing and I’m an illustrator and ha—productive.
I frown and reach for my phone.
Jana: Do they have beach umbrellas at this beach house?
Jake: Yes.
Jana: Big ones? We could stop at Costco on the way.
Jake: Sure. But I think they have umbrellas of all sizes.
Jana: Have you ever been to Costco?
Jake: There’s a first time for everything.
Jana: It’ll be a zoo. What time are you back?
Jake: Should be there before three.
Jana: Okay. Love you!
He sends back a heart emoji and I spin in my chair. Beach umbrellas and heart emojis deserve an extra bikini in the suitcase. Productivity can wait.
On my way back from the bedroom, the dedicated phone line from downstairs rings. Jake’s made it clear that if I’m working and don’t want to be disturbed, I don’t need to answer it, but since I’m already up, I think it’s polite to acknowledge whatever it is.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Miss Jana. It’s Pierre.”
“Good morning, Pierre. How are you?”
“Excellent, thank you. There is a delivery here for you that requires a signature, and the driver will not allow me to sign on your behalf. I tried to explain how things are usually done, but he’s insistent.”
“That’s fine, send him up.” I’m not expecting anything from work, but given that Nina knows I’m going away with all of Jake’s friends for a week, I’m sure she’s sent a C.O.D. box of sex toys or something.
I wait until the elevator dings, and then I push the button that opens the doors from our side.
Standing in the middle of the elevator is a tall, dark, and very handsome SwiftEx driver. He’s wearing a different uniform than the last time I saw him, and his legs look impossibly good in brown shorts.
“Summer uniform now?” I ask, my breath hitching as I gobble him up with my gaze.
Jake grins and hands over a clipboard. Oh, so we’re doing the whole role-play thing. Hot. This isn’t one of the fancy digital clipboards he had in Baltimore, but an old paper form. “Sign on the first line. Date on the right.”
“And what am I signing for, exactly?” I ask as I scrawl my name. “Do I get to choose what package I want?”
He chuckles as I flick my gaze back to him, then drag it down his body. We both know what package I want. It’s big and thick and—
“You don’t need to choose,” he says as his hands swing into view. “Well, I hope you’ll be interested in all the packages I’ve brought today. Bit sneaky, getting you to sign for it first, sight unseen.”
In his right hand is a ring box.
Black. Velvet. Square.
A ring box.
I’m frozen, staring at a ring box in front of his crotch, but it doesn’t matter because he lowers himself to one knee, bringing the rest of him into view.
“From the second I laid eyes on you, I wanted to know you. You captivate me. And every minute, day, week, and month that has passed since has brought a new layer to our relationship. Laughter and affection, passion and tenderness, and a love bigger and stronger than I ever could have imagined. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, kind, and funny woman I’ve ever met, and I want to be your husband.” He flips open the ring box and lifts up an obscenely large square-cut diamond set in a platinum band. I gasp out loud, but that doesn’t distract him from what he says next. “I want you to be my wife, forever. Will you marry me?”
Forever and always. I nod, not trusting my words, and he stands, sliding the ring onto my left hand before tugging those fingers hard against his chest. His other hand braces wide across my back.
“Was that a yes?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, yes, ye—”
His mouth covers mine in a searing, claiming kiss that just keeps going. He dips me back until I squeak and wrap my arms around him tight, and he keeps on kissing me. Soft, pulling touches of his lips against mine. Hungry pushes of his tongue. Each kiss is a different reflection of all the love between us, and I give as good as I get. We make something amazing between us, and now that he’s asked, I’m not surprised, but whoa, was I ever a few minutes ago.
“I really like the uniform,” I whisper as he trails kisses over my jaw and down my neck. “I love your suits, but I missed the uniform.”
“I’m keeping this one. Might get married in it.”
I giggle. “Okay.”
“Although I do like the way you do my ties when I wear a tux…”
I sigh. “Yes, that’s good, too. We can decide later.”
I already know what I’m wearing. That lace dress the stylists brought for me to consider for the Met. I shiver as I think about Jake seeing me in it for the first time.
But right now, I’ve got a brown delivery uniform to strip him out of. I undo the top button and slide my fingers over the hard plane of his chest I’ve just uncovered. “Do you have any more deliveries to make today?”
“This is actually the end of my route,” he says, giving me a cocky grin that wouldn’t be out of place at the start of a filthy fantasy.
“In that case, you should stay a while. I could…” I giggle as he hauls me hard against his chest and I undo another two buttons. “Make you lemonade. Oh, Delivery Guy, it’s so hot out there today. Or…”
“Or.” His eyes darken as he works his hands under my shirt. “Yes, let’s jump straight to the or.”
“Well I just got a very special, very personal delivery, and I’d very much like to celebrate that.” I lick my lips. “Right here.”
My clothes go flying, and I do my best to keep up with him, but Jake has special undressing skills. He’s a strip-me-down-for-sex ninja. When he’s ripping off my panties, I’ve just reached his belt, and that’s as far as I get. He takes me hard and fast on the tile floor, bracing his hands on either side of my head as I hold on tight to his body.
“We have a bed,” he says when we’re done and lying flat on our backs side-by-side. “Why didn’t we use it?”
“Because this was fun?”
“It was. Is. I’ll have to wear the uniform again for your birthday.”
I laugh, and he joins in. We laugh together and it grows in intensity until my sides hurt, but I don’t care because I’m sharing a laugh with my fiancé and he plays dress-up to make me happy.
“I need to call Nina and Daisy,” I finally manage to say as I get up off the floor. “And my parents.”
He cups the back of my neck and kisses me again before nodding. “Right. I should advise my mother as well.” I laugh and poke him in the side for the formality and he rolls his eyes. “And…I should tell the guys we’re going to celebrate tonight.”
“I don’t know where my phone is.” I turn in a distracted circle, then stop to look at my ring. “Wow.”
He pats my bare bum. “Phone.”
“Right.” I wiggle my finger, making light bounce all over the place. “In a second.”
He finds his own phone a few feet away, in his discarded uniform shirt, and taps on the screen. My phone rings distantly, and he heads for the office.
“I would have eventually fetched it,” I say when he returns.
“Sure. But this way you get to admire the ring, and I get to do something for you, and both of those things will lead to more sex.”
“One-track mind.”
“Not denying that.”
We head to bed to make our phone calls, curled up in an excited pile of naked limbs. I connect with Nina first, and she wants to see the ring right away, do not pass GO, do not collect $200.
I cover the phone and whisper to Jake, “How
much time do we have?”
He stops mid text message. “That depends. Are we going to Costco?”
“We can do that another time. A proposal kind of tops a beach umbrella.”
“Then there’s lots of time. The helicopter is standing by for us.”
Seven words I’ll never get used to hearing. I give him a quick kiss before telling Nina she can come over in half an hour.
Then I talk to my parents, and finally Daisy.
Jake talks to his mother, and when I put down my phone, he’s back to texting. He’s slung one arm behind his head, and I trace the curve of his biceps up from the dark shock of hair in his armpit to his elbow and back down again.
I should get dressed. Nina will be here soon. But his body is right here in front of me. How am I supposed to resist touching him?
My fiancé.
Not enough heart emojis in the world.
“Oh, wow,” he says as his phone chimes.
“What?”
He turns his phone toward me so I can see the screen.
Jake: Hey man, I’ve got great news. I proposed to Jana.
Jake: And she said yes. LOL Key detail.
Toby: Congratulations, that’s fantastic.
Jake: So you’re coming to the beach house, right? You can finally meet her?
Toby: I’ll be there. But listen… I’ve got some news of my own, too.
Jake: Yeah?
Toby: I eloped last week.
THE END
* * *
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Also by Ainsley Booth
Forbidden Bodyguards
Hate F*@k
Booty Call
Dirty Love
Wicked Sin
Filthy Liar
Billionaire Secrets
Personal Delivery
Personal Escort
Personal Disaster
Frisky Beavers
Retrosexual
Prime Minister
Dr. Bad Boy
Full Mountie
Mr. Hat Trick
Page of Swords
Bull of the Woods
* * *
www.ainsleybooth.com
Runaway Billionaire
Desiree Holt
1
Pepper Thornton pulled her SUV into the private parking area at the side of Hibiscus House and, regretfully, turned off the air conditioning. She had hoped to get her errands done before the heavy heat of the day rolled in, but this was Central Florida. Heavy heat was a twenty-four hour occurrence. Still, she was glad to have those few things taken care of. Cilla Denbury, who worked part time at Hibiscus House, had offered to finish the cleanup by herself so Pepper could get out, get done, and get back before the sun broiled her on the sidewalk. Pepper was eternally grateful for the woman who had also become her friend. Cilla was recovering from a divorce that left her bank account flush but her life empty. The B&B filled a real hole for her, and she hung out answering the phone and enjoying the scenery even when she didn’t have to.
She had moved from New York to recover from the aftereffects of the split and decided to stay because she loved the place. Loved Bayview. Loved Hibiscus House. Loved Pepper.
“You give the place class,” Pepper told her often.
She had the kind of figure that looked good in whatever she wore, not slim, not chunky. Her face was heart-shaped and framed by straight black hair that swung easily in a smart cut. Pepper couldn’t for the life of her figure out why the woman, at the prime age of thirty, hung around playing employee at Hibiscus House, but she was delighted with and grateful for the friendship. With Cilla she could be herself, and it gave her an ally in foiling her mother’s projects.
“I’m back,” Pepper called, lugging her parcels in through the kitchen door.
“And I’m finished.” Cilla came in from the lobby, carrying a small stack of dessert plates, cups, and saucers. “Man, I thought that couple would never finish their muffins.”
Pepper lifted an eyebrow. “The Massingills?”
“Uh-huh. They eat slower than cold molasses and about liked to talked my ear off.” She rinsed the dishes in the sink and stacked them in the dishwasher.
“The new reservation check in yet?” Pepper asked.
Cilla shook her head. “He called yesterday to confirm but didn’t tell me what time he’d be here. All he said was sometime in the morning.”
“Did you tell me he’s from Dallas?” Cilla had taken the original phone call.
“Uh-huh. But that’s all he said.”
“Wonder what he’s doing in Bayview?” Pepper mused. “We don’t get a lot of single men at Hibiscus House. And he’s pretty far from Dallas.”
“Maybe he’s an artist come to paint the scenery. Or a writer looking to warm up his muse.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. They usually go farther south to Ft. Myers Beach or farther north to Sarasota.”
“Maybe he’s hiding from someone. It doesn’t matter as long as his money is good.” Cilla added soap and rinse agent to the dishwasher, pushed the door lock and the start buttons, then dusted her hands. “And that’s the last of it.”
“Fix yourself a glass of tea and take a load off,” Pepper told her. “I’ll join you as soon as I put this stuff away.”
“You making more of those frosted biscuits?” Cilla asked. Taking her glass of tea, she seated herself on a stool at the island counter. “Guests sure do go for those.”
“Uh-huh.” Pepper began stacking things in the pantry. “I thought I’d try little apple bits on some and maybe chocolate in the other.”
“Lordy. I think I put on five pounds just listening to you.” She paused. “Uh, Pepper, your mama’s been around this morning while you were out. She’ll probably show up again any minute.”
A year ago, the senior Thorntons had bought themselves a luxury motor home, declaring they wanted to see the country. When they weren’t on the road, they set up at the mobile home park at the edge of Bayview. Pepper had taken over their suite in the bed-and-breakfast and given up hers for paying guests. Ever since then, her parents had been all over her case, insisting they were determined to sell the place and get her out in the world.
“Get a life,” Maggie Thornton repeated.
“I have a life,” Pepper always repeated.
So what if she hadn’t had a decent date in, well, forever? Emphasis on the word decent. She’d even lost her appetite for looking. Men she met were mostly so full of themselves. Whatever happened to real men, sexy men, who knew how to show a girl a good time? Forget about trolling the waters for a husband. She wanted a guy who turned her on and treated her right.
But her mama seemed on a mission from which she would not be deterred. It might not be so bad if she hadn’t gotten it into her head that the solution for Pepper’s “life” was marriage to a local banker she’d handpicked for her daughter.
“She better not be bringing Judd Wallace with her,” Pepper snapped, closing the pantry door. “God, what a smarmy greaseball.”
Cilla laughed. “You speak so poorly of our esteemed local banker.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not a greaseball.” Pepper took down a glass, added ice, and filled it with iced tea. “He’s damn lucky the big bank that bought him out didn’t have anyone in their arsenal who wanted to get stuck away in Bayview. For a man whose sole qualification is being the only choice, he sure is full of himself.”
Cilla glanced out the big window to the side yard. “You might need something stronger than that tea, sugar. Your mama just pulled up and, if my eyes don’t deceive me, that’s the greaseball right behind her. They’re walking in together and, man, do they look cozy.”
“Well, shit.”
“Pepper Thornton.” Cilla grinned. “Such language from a refined young lady.”
“You’ll hear a lot more if she tries pushing him on me again.”
“Get ready.” Cilla nodded toward the front of the house. “Here they are.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Pepper heard the tinkle of the wind chimes that played whenever the front door to the B&B opened.
“Damn, damn, and frosted damn.” She grimaced. “Maybe I can put poison in Judd’s iced tea or coffee.”
“There you are, sweetheart.” Maggie Thornton rushed into the kitchen, reaching out to hug Pepper.
The woman was a nearly identical older version of her daughter. Both stood about five four without heels, had the same deep-emerald-green eyes, lush curves, and wavy auburn hair. But where Pepper’s hair was shoulder length, Maggie kept hers cut stylishly short. She also sported a Florida tan, acquired since she and her husband had given up running Hibiscus House.
“Hi, Mama.” Pepper returned the hug.
“And see who I found in town.” She reached behind her and dragged the man forward. “I told him to come right on over with me and you’d fix us some ice-cold tea with those tasty chocolate muffins you made. Right, Judd?”
“That’s right.” The man nodded, his mouth curved wide in a smarmy grin.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but the paying guests finished the last of the muffins before you got here. I’m fresh out.”
Maggie twisted her face into a petulant frown. “Oh, no. And here I was telling Judd all about them and your extraordinary pastry skills.”
“That doesn’t matter.” He flapped a hand in the air. “I was on my way over here to see you anyway, Pepper.”
“Isn’t that just the best coincidence?” Maggie gushed. “How lucky we ran into each other.”
“Yeah, right,” Pepper grumbled under her breath.
Looking at the man made her want to take a bath. It wasn’t that he was grimy or anything. In fact, with his curly blond hair and masculine face, he might have even been appealing if not for his attitude. Too bad he had that slick appearance of a snake oil salesman. Even his expensive slacks and button-down shirt couldn’t make him into anything but what he was. A hustler, full of himself. In a job his family’s money had bought for him. Even standing next to him gave her the creeps.
Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories Page 61
