by Karen Booth
“Grant and I have history. And we’re engaged now.”
“Astrid’s right, Tara. You did the same thing,” Miranda said. “And you put our mutual interest in the company at much greater risk.”
Astrid didn’t want to gang up on Tara, but she did appreciate that Miranda had her back. “I really don’t think either of us is in a position to throw stones right now.”
“Obviously I wasn’t there, but I have a feeling it didn’t happen simply because you two were in the same room. Judging by the conversation I had with Clay before you two went to LA, I’m guessing it would have happened even if you’d been at completely different hotels,” Miranda said.
“So I heard,” Astrid said.
Now it was Miranda’s turn to be surprised. “He told you?”
“He did. And we had a long conversation about why he called things off the next morning.”
“Wow,” Miranda said. “He actually listened to what I said.”
“I don’t know exactly what you told him to do, but we did have a heart-to-heart. I think we understand each other better.” She was still guessing at these things. There was nothing certain about Clay.
“Where did you leave things?” Tara asked.
“Are you asking me as a shareholder and co-CEO of Sterling Enterprises, or are you asking as a girlfriend?”
Tara waited a moment to answer, buying time with two sips of her wine. “Since it’s just the three of us and we’re off the clock, I guess I’m asking as a friend.”
“We agreed that it was a one-time thing. That was it. We’re both single and we were caught up in the excitement of his big win. But it wasn’t anything more than sex.” Except that it had been, at least for Astrid. She needed to banish those thoughts from her mind, immediately. All they did was make her want Clay more. “And we also agreed that we would keep it quiet. Obviously that didn’t work here, but I hope I can trust you both to keep it to yourselves.”
“In my experience, the ‘it was only sex’ excuse doesn’t hold water. Especially if you have to keep working together,” Tara said. “Is this going to interfere with the Seaport project? Or anything else for that matter?”
“It won’t. We’re back to being strictly platonic. I swear. There isn’t even a glimmer of flirtation between us.”
“That’s a little disappointing,” Miranda said.
“It is?” Tara asked.
“Yes. I mean, come on. Sterling is going to be fine, whether or not two of its employees become romantically involved. The world isn’t going to suddenly stop needing new office buildings or corporate campuses.” Miranda sat back in her seat. “But I am worried about my brother and what kind of life he’s living right now. He’s lonely. I know he is. And he’s a little lost, to be honest. I’d love it if he found a partner who could help steer him in the right direction. Someone who could make him happy.”
“Are you attempting to play matchmaker here, Miranda?” Tara asked.
“I guess I am. Astrid is great and I love my brother, so I fail to see how that could be a bad thing.”
Astrid felt stuck. She loved having Miranda’s endorsement and she believed that Miranda was right about Clay. He did need love in his life. But this was also a lot of pressure to put on Astrid. She couldn’t fix Clay. He had to do it himself. “I don’t know if he believes that I could, in fact, make him happy. And to be honest, I’m not sure of my ability to do that, either. We don’t know each other that well, and I don’t know how to change that. We agreed to keep things strictly professional at work, and from the company’s standpoint, that’s the best course. I can’t see him agreeing to see me socially, and I’m not about to ask, just so I can be rejected.”
“Then let’s make an opportunity. Surely we can think of something between the three of us?”
“A party to celebrate his award?” Tara offered. “We could invite the press. Turn it into some publicity for Sterling.”
“I really don’t think he would go for that,” Astrid said. “He hates parties.”
“I agree,” Miranda echoed Astrid’s assertion. “But I do have another idea.”
“Let’s hear it,” Tara said.
“I found out the baby’s gender this week. Well, I didn’t find out. The doctor wrote it down and it’s in a sealed envelope. Everyone’s doing those gender reveal parties now, and with Johnathon gone, I don’t want to find out on my own. I’d rather have people I care about with me.”
“That sounds like fun,” Astrid said. “I’d love to host.” With so little social life, it would give her something to do. Plus, she wanted to let Clay into her world, and show him who she was.
“I read in a magazine about a couple who gave their results to a baker who filled cupcakes with blue or pink frosting. The guests all took a bite at the same time to find out the gender,” Miranda said.
“If baked goods are involved, you will have no problem convincing Clay to be here,” Astrid said.
Miranda laughed. “That is so true.”
“I love the whole idea,” Tara added. “I’m sure Grant would love it, too.”
“I do think we should at least toast to Clay’s award,” Astrid said. “He doesn’t like to be in the spotlight, but he deserves it.”
“So much. Let’s make it an evening event, too. It’s more romantic.” Miranda punctuated her suggestion with a wink.
Astrid grinned, looking at Tara and Miranda, thankful for this unlikely sisterhood she’d found. “So are we doing this?”
“Yes. I think so. If you plan the whole thing, I’ll be sure to get my brother here.”
Ten
A small, intimate gathering should not be stressful. And yet, Astrid was a ball of nerves. It went beyond the fact that it had been a crazy busy week at work and she’d spent too little time arranging the small details of this party.
Honestly, this whole idea was a bit absurd, that she and Clay would somehow grow closer over the course of the next few hours. But it seemed as though it was worth trying, and she had wanted to celebrate the baby on the way in some public way for a while now. She simply didn’t know how to bring up the topic. She and Miranda were still forging their bond.
Astrid read through the instructions her private chef had left for the food to be served. Just a few hot appetizers, along with a cheese board and veggies. The cupcakes, with the mystery filling, were already on site, sitting on the kitchen counter. Really, everything was set, and she only needed to shower, get dressed and take a deep breath.
The bell for her apartment door rang, but it was a little less than two hours until guests were to arrive. There was only one other apartment up on the top floor of her building, so it was rare to get unannounced visitors, but she had left her guest list with the doorman already. Perhaps it was Tara or Miranda stopping by to say hello. She opened the door, and there before her was Clay, looking good enough to eat in black trousers and a crisp gray shirt, with a bouquet of pink tulips in his hand. Astrid practically swooned.
He surveyed her from head to toe, his forehead wrinkling with confusion, probably because she was in jeans and a light sweater at the moment. “Am I early?”
“Yes, actually. By nearly two hours.”
“Miranda told me it started at five.”
So that was what this was—a ploy by Miranda to get them together. Astrid approved. And also felt the need to cover for her. “We talked about five at one point, but I moved it to seven. I’m so sorry she didn’t tell you.”
“Should I come back?”
Astrid shook her head and grasped his arm. “Don’t be silly. You can keep me company.”
“Oh. Okay.” Clay walked inside and Astrid closed the door behind him. He was quick to thrust the flowers at her. “Here. These are for you. I thought about a bottle of wine, but the truth is that I’m really a bourbon guy, and that seemed like an odd hostess gift.”
>
Astrid smiled. They might not be a romantic gesture, but she loved getting flowers from Clay. “Thank you so much. Tulips are my favorite.”
“I noticed that you sometimes have them in your office.”
Wow. “Careful, Clay. That’s downright thoughtful of you.”
He leaned against the kitchen counter. As perfect as they’d looked together in that photo from the night in Los Angeles, she thought he looked even more perfect in her apartment. “Actually, it’s good that I got here early. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about our chat the other night at work.”
She had no idea what he was about to say, but she was glad he’d been thinking about it. She’d been stuck with a nonstop loop of their conversation in her head. “Of course.”
“I wanted to say thank you for being so understanding and listening to me. I also want to thank you for calling me out on a few things. I love my sister, and she does tell me when I’m wrong, but she also probably gives me a little too much latitude.”
“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about what you will allow to happen in your romantic life?” She might as well put it all on the line. Better to know now what he was thinking.
“Let’s just say that my hard-lined approach might be softening.” He had a sly glint in his eye that made Astrid’s heart flutter.
She didn’t want to take too much latitude right now and spook him, but this revelation did make her feel more optimistic about the way this night might go. “Any interest in helping me wrap a gift for your sister?”
“I didn’t know we were doing gifts.”
“We aren’t, technically. But she mentioned this specific thing and I had to get it for her, but it’s going to be impossible to wrap. It’s a pretty big job, but since you’re an architect, I’m thinking you’re up to the task.”
He seemed skeptical. “That hardly sounds like a job I’m qualified for.”
“Come on.” Astrid led Clay through her living room and back to her bedroom, where the gift was waiting. “There. I need to figure out how to wrap that.”
Clay looked at her as if she had a screw loose. “You can’t wrap a stroller.”
“Why not?”
He walked over to it and gave it a push across the hardwood floor. How did he manage to make the role of dad so super sexy? “I don’t know. Because it’s ridiculous? Just put a bow on it.”
“Don’t you think it would be funny? If we bring it out to Miranda and it’s obvious what it is, but it’s still wrapped?”
He regarded the stroller and let out a quiet laugh. “I guess.”
“Look, I want tonight to be special for your sister. Just help me, okay?” She stepped to the corner and grabbed the extra-large roll of heavy-duty wrapping paper she’d bought, then handed Clay the scissors and tape.
“Alright then, let’s get to work.” Together, on hands and knees, they wrapped every square inch of the thing—the handle, the frame and seat, and even the wheels. It required a lot of tape and a lot of one person holding the paper in place while the other made sure it all stuck together. At nearly every juncture there was a brush of hands. The bumping of shoulders. The exchange of smiles. Each time they made contact, the hunger inside her grew a little more, as Astrid was hit with a different memory of her night with Clay. The raw passion of the first time. His mouth on her body. Her hands all over his.
“I have to ask you,” Clay said when they were nearly finished. “Why would you host a baby-related event for my sister? For that matter, why buy her an expensive gift? Doesn’t it hurt, considering that you and Johnathon tried to have a baby and it didn’t happen for you?”
Astrid sat back on her haunches. “You know about that?”
“I do. You hinted at it in the car on the way to LA, and my sister mentioned it as well.”
“Ah, Miranda. She does enjoy sharing people’s stories, doesn’t she?”
His eyes, so warm and welcoming in the soft light of her bedroom, settled on her face. “She does when she cares about someone. Believe me, everything she said was only in the context of marveling at your generosity. She was genuinely surprised at how you took the news of her pregnancy. I think it means a great deal to her.”
“And there’s your answer. It doesn’t hurt to help her celebrate. We’re still welcoming a baby into the world, and this baby is special. He or she will be one half someone I loved very much. Plus, I can’t help but be excited by the idea of all children. That’s part of why I’ve always wanted to be a mom.”
“That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.” His voice was low and soft, and she sensed now that there was an invisible tether between them. There was a reason she was so drawn to him. “How are you so amazing? Are you even real?”
She would have laughed if the question wasn’t putting her on a pedestal she never asked for. “Of course I am. I’m flesh and blood like anyone else. I’m just as breakable as anyone.” She didn’t want to cry, but as her sights traveled between Clay and the stroller, all she could think about was what might have been, both in her distant past and the more recent. She and Clay could have been something. They could still be something, if he’d only let her in. A tear leaked from her eye and she quickly swiped it away.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
Clay spread his arms wide. “No, you’re not. Come here.”
“No. I’m not going to cry.”
He tilted his head to one side, waving her closer with his hand. “Astrid. Come on. I’m not going to think any less of you.”
“It’s not that.” She turned to confront him, frustrated that she wanted him so badly. “It’s that I want happy things between you and me. We’ve both been hurt. We’ve both had pain. I want to focus on what’s good between us. Just us. Nobody else.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Can you, Clay? Can you really?”
He nodded eagerly. “Of course I can.”
“Then show me. Do something that will make us both happy.”
“Don’t you have guests coming in an hour and a half?”
Boundaries. Limitations. Rules. The man was so damn preoccupied with everything that wouldn’t allow them to enjoy each other. “Stop telling me no, Clay. I just want to hear you say yes.”
A knowing smile slowly rolled across Clay’s tempting lips. “Let me figure out how many ways I can say it.” He reached for her hair, gently combing through the strands about her ear. He trailed his fingers along her jaw, sending goose bumps racing over the surface of her skin. That right there was the reason she always wanted Clay to say yes to her—there was no match for the thrill of his touch. He caressed her lower lip with his thumb, lifting her chin. She smiled as she snaked his arm around her waist, tugged her hard against his firm body.
This was going to happen again and she hoped to hell this time wouldn’t be the last.
* * *
Clay had wanted this moment since they’d left LA. He’d just been too conflicted to admit it. And now that it was hurtling at him, getting Astrid into bed wasn’t happening fast enough. His pants were so tight he wasn’t sure how he was still breathing, let alone still upright. He had to have her, body and soul, now. Heat raged inside him, his erection already fierce and insistent.
She walked backward to the bed, pulling him along with her. He grabbed the hem of her sweater and lifted it above her head. It felt as though he was revealing his reward, a prize he wanted all for himself. He kissed her and unhooked her bra, admiring her beautiful breasts before giving them a squeeze. Her eyes drifted shut halfway, and the pure ecstasy of her expression made him want to do that to her again and again. He unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs, stopping to kneel before her, gazing up at the beautiful length of her body.
He dotted her belly with soft, openmouthed kisses as he tugged her panties pas
t her hips. “Lie down, Astrid.” He stood as she climbed onto the bed and stretched out before him.
“What about you? You need to take your clothes off.”
He did. He really did need to do that, but his mouth and hands were telling him to wait just one more minute. He placed one knee on the bed and gathered her wrists in one hand, raising her arms up above her head. “Are you alright?” he asked, stealing a kiss.
“Perfect,” she replied.
He lowered his mouth to one of her breasts, her velvety skin nearly melting into his touch, conforming to his lips. Her nipples were tight and pert, and every time he touched them, her skin flooded with warmth.
He stood. “Don’t move. Keep your hands where they are.”
A gorgeous smile spread across her lips as she wriggled in place on the bed. He shucked his shirt, pants and boxers, watching her as she watched him.
“You’re magnificent with no clothes on. You know that, right?” she asked.
“I’d say the exact same thing of you.” He’d never craved a woman the way he did her, as if he could spend the rest of his life exploring her and he’d never stop learning and admiring. He stood with his knees pressed against the side of the bed and lifted her leg, holding her ankle, trailing the back of his other hand along the creamy skin of her inner thigh. He knew they were on a strict timetable here, but it was impossible to not want to take his time. “Can we call your doorman and tell him not to let anyone else up to your apartment?”
“You’re terrible.”
He bounced his eyebrows up and down. “I hope not.” He again placed a knee on the mattress, and bracketed her hips with his legs, reaching up with one hand and holding her wrists in place above her head. His heart was in his throat, knowing he had her under his control. With every passing second, with every pump of blood through his body, she further occupied his heart. She could have had absolutely anything from him. Absolutely anything.
