LAX airport was huge, but nothing compared to Hartsfield-Jackson International. It didn’t matter that there were fewer people here; the crowds and distance to baggage claim were still too much. Her pulse raced with excitement, and the minutes couldn’t go fast enough. She had to force herself to keep from sprinting to the carousels when she disembarked from the shuttle. Getting there sooner meant waiting longer if Jonathan hadn’t arrived yet.
His memory filled her with an unfamiliar but giddy excitement. Maybe she should have talked this through with him first. Given him a hint of what she was thinking, before she made the flight arrangements. He hadn’t objected to her announcement she was visiting, though, and she wanted to do this in person. Needed to discover what it would take, to see him more often.
She kept more of her attention on the crowds than on the conveyor belt, but no recognizable face stood out. She needed to calm down. If he was held up, she’d make herself sick with anticipation and then crash before he got here.
Two hands rested on her hips. Her body reacted, energy jolting through her before her brain put words to what it meant.
“I missed you.” Jonathan’s breath caressed her ear.
She grinned and whirled, careful not to displace his grip. Before she could answer, he tangled his fingers in her hair and crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss stole her breath and erased her doubt. She dug her fingers into his chest, needing something to hold on to, so she’d stay grounded in the middle of this amazing dream come to life.
When he finally broke away, it was to rest his forehead on hers. “I’m so glad you’re here.” His voice was low and gravelly.
“So am I.” She relaxed and sagged into him. They’d need to have that conversation about spending more in-person time together that she’d been replaying in her head, but now she was pretty sure they were on the same page.
He snagged her baggage as it rotated past, then wrapped an arm around her waist and pointed her toward the exit. “I took the week off for this. And I promise no work while you’re here, as long as we make one last stop before I sign off completely.
She tucked aside her disappointment. “What has to be done at six on a Friday night?”
“Something super important, or else I wouldn’t ask. How was your flight?”
They chatted about turbulence and the sassy flight attendant and which airlines had the best snacks, as they strolled toward the parking garage. The black Mercedes sedan he loaded her luggage in was classy without being obnoxious.
“Love the car,” she said.
“It gets me around.” He held open the door for her, until she was seated comfortably, then made his way to the driver’s side. He pulled into exiting airport traffic and inched his way along with the rest of the cars. When they made their way to the freeway, their speed lessened more. Bailey was fine with that. The thought was sappy, but she didn’t mind rush hour with his company.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changed the subject,” she said.
“Don’t what-the-what-now?” He glanced at her. “Hang on... Processing the double negative. No, I didn’t.”
“Then what kind of work needs your attention right now?” She wasn’t trying to nag. His evasion had her curious.
“The worky kind of work.” He’d never had a problem talking about his job before.
“You’re acting really suspicious.”
“You’re reading too mu—” He snapped his jaw shut. “I might be. Short version is I took over a property that a business partner needed to dump. Got it for a good cost, and I need to see it before the weekend starts.”
“Oh.” That didn’t sound nearly as interesting as she hoped.
He squeezed her knee. “How’s Lucifer?”
“Still misses you, and doesn’t like being left with a neighbor when I’m out of town.”
“Then, um... give her my love?” He didn’t believe the cat cared who was there, as long as someone fed her. Bailey was certain there was more to it than that. It took weeks for Luci to come out from hiding under Bailey’s dresser, and she only slept on a T-shirt Jonathan left behind. Lucky cat.
The conversation shifted from one topic to the next, all of it generic. She struggled to segue into talking about how to see each other more often, but every approach she came up with felt flat in her head. Almost an hour later, he parallel parked in front of an office building that was about twenty-stories tall and made of concrete, glass, and steel.
He unlocked the front door and let them inside. The main floor spanned out in front of her, pristine white and open, only broken up by the occasional matching partition. “I wanted this to be a surprise.” He grasped her wrist, raised her hand, and pressed the keys into it. “If you want it, it’s yours.”
“I—” She worked her jaw up and down, as her brain refused to process the obvious. “For what?”
“I was thinking art gallery.” He intertwined his fingers with hers, locking the keys between them. “You don’t have to. It’s just a thought.”
The gesture tugged at her heart and kick-started her brain with possibilities. And reality. “You remember I live about as far away from here as is possible.”
“I think I got ahead of myself. Forget everything I said, but don’t. Remember it, because it won’t be a surprise the second time around.” He tugged her toward the back of the room, around half-walls and across marble floor.
The place was gorgeous. Despite the holes in logic, in her head she was already arranging artwork.
A series of table-height shelves spanned the back wall. Strawberries and an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne sat on one. She raised her brows and turned to Jonathan. Could he hear her heart hammering against her ribs?
“I can’t do this long-distance relationship anymore.” He grasped her hands. “It’s driving me nuts, waking up and seeing a message with your name, rather than you by my side. Hearing your voice is better, but it’s no substitute for being with you. I love you, Bailey. I know Florida is home for you. That you’ve been there all your life, and that’s where your livelihood is. I don’t care where we end up, as long as...” He shook his head.
The confession of love made her heart soar, but when he dropped to one knee and looked up at her, her stomach fell into her shoes. He wasn’t done. “I can work from home, as well as from the office. If you want to stay here, we’ll stay. If you want me there, I’ll go. This sounded more poetic in my head. Marry me?”
A giggle escaped her, and yes screamed in her skull. She pulled him to his feet, so she could look him in the eye more easily. “There’s not much left for me in Florida. My house is a pathetic imitation of an apology from the divorce. My parents moved years ago. Nana is gone.” She swallowed. “The person I love more than anything is already established here.”
“So that’s a...?”
She didn’t know if she was dragging this out because of hesitation or a twisted sense of sadism. “You’re going to have to learn to live with Lucifer.”
“I won’t make you give up your cat.” He twisted his mouth in amusement.
“Your cat. She claimed you the moment she saw you. I’ll be lucky if she shares.”
He drummed his fingers on his leg. “Ale?”
“You don’t have hurricanes in L.A. That must be nice.” There was definitely more sadism in her motivation. It was fun watching him squirm.
“We have earthquakes. You realize you’re killing me about now, don’t you?”
That was her cue to relent. “I’m aware. It’s like I told you the night of my accident. If you asked me again, I wouldn’t say no. I don’t want to turn you down. I need you. I love you.” She liked the way the words tasted, rolling off her tongue. “So, yes. I’ll marry you. And yes—I want to make this into a gallery. And yes—I’m happy to move out here if it means living with you.” She draped her arms around his neck and pressed close, memorizing every inch of the way their bodies fit together.
He dipped his head in, as if to kiss her, and then
pulled back abruptly. “Wait.” He reached into his pocket, not letting go of her waist with his other hand. A second later, he produced a small velvet box and withdrew a gorgeous, intricate golden ring. “It was my great grandmother’s.” He placed it on her finger, and it slid into place as if it were made for her. “Nana would have wanted you to have it.”
“Only if you were giving it to me.”
He finally kissed her again. Light pecks along her lips, mixed with playful nips. “Then it’s a good thing it worked out that way.”
He guided her backwards, until she bumped into the shelf, and trailed his mouth along her jaw, down her neck, and over her collarbone. He didn’t smell the way he had in Florida. The scent of crisp rain and faint pine teased her now.
The intensity in his attention stole her thoughts. “There’s a huge open window on the side of the room,” she managed between gasps.
“There’s plenty of cover between here and there. And would you be offended if someone tried to sneak a peek?” He sucked on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, sending whispers of pain sparking over her skin.
She simply wanted this moment with Jonathan. Anticipation slid through her, making her pulse race and her nipples tighten. “More power to them.”
“Every single photo you sent me”—he drew his tongue along the edge of her ear, voice soft—“made me want you here, so I could strip you out of what you were wearing.” He pulled her shirt over her head.
“Funny. I just kind of stared at that picture of you in a tux.” She leaned back, using one arm on the shelf for balance when he kissed along the edge of her bra strap and down to the cup.
He slid his finger under the fabric, caressing her skin but not exposing anything. With each new tease and touch, her head grew lighter. She dug her fingers into his arm, needing something to hold onto.
“Just stared? No fantasies? No temptation.” He glided under the elastic to her back, unhooked her bra, and dragged her straps down her arms. When he looked her over, the heat in his gaze dialed her arousal up another notch.
“A guy who knows how to wear a suit is sexy.”
“Hmm.” He lowered his head to her nipple. When his tongue flicked out, she gasped. “Doesn’t take much.” He talked between sucks and nibbles. “Pants go on one leg at a time.” He moved a hand to her other breast. Massaged and pinched. “It helps if you line up the buttons when you put the shirt on.” His five-o-clock shadow scuffed her skin, driving up her desire.
She wanted more contact. More skin. She found the sense and coordination to loosen his tie. “Is it as easy to take off?”
“Easier. The buttons don’t have to line up.”
She fumbled her way through said buttons, losing her focus every time he scraped his teeth over her nipple. She shoved the shirt off his shoulders, and he broke away to tug his undershirt over his head before he resumed sucking.
“Better.” She traced his chest with her fingers, over the flat planes, down his stomach, and along the top of his slacks.
He pressed into her, erection digging into her hip. She dipped her hand lower until she reached his shaft—a hard, eager outline. When she cupped his length and then stroked, he bucked against her touch and groaned into her skin. The vibrations trembled through her breast. Dampness pooled between her legs, and she squeezed her thighs together. Could she get off from this kind of attention? If she were more patient, possibly.
She pulled his head up and kissed him hard, memorizing the crush of his mouth against hers. There were so many sensations tucked inside this, she needed to sear every one of them into her memories. “I want you inside me.”
His laugh was shaky. “I won’t last long if we do that.”
“That makes two of us.” She unzipped his slacks. She brushed his cock with her fingers, and he jerked into her touch. The heat and temptation drove her wild with impatience.
He yanked her jeans hard enough she was surprised the button didn’t pop and teeth didn’t fly from the zipper, and then shoved her pants to the ground. He kissed along her thighs and stomach as he traveled back up. Grasping her hips, he lifted her onto the table behind her. “You were warned.” He growled against her skin and dug his fingers in.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jonathan had no restraint left. The last two months away from Bailey taxed him more than he thought possible, but now she was here. Everything about the moment was right. Her yes to the proposal, her gorgeous, naked body... Her.
He forced himself between her legs and drove into her with a single thrust. When he pounded inside, he almost came. He wanted to take this slowly. Build up to an explosive climax. She wrapped her legs around his waist and increased the pace, and he knew that wasn’t happening.
Still gripping her hip with one hand, he moved the other back to her breast. When he pinched the nipple and rolled it between his fingers, her cry drilled deep into his thoughts. He knew that sound, though he’d only heard it a few times. The indicator she was close to orgasm. One of those delicious noises that teased him while he slept.
He tweaked and pounded, hammering deeper each time. Or, it felt like it. She clenched around him, groaning and embedding her nails in his back as she climaxed.
He couldn’t hold back anymore. This felt too good. Tight. Slick. Perfect. Every time her pussy clenched around his cock, a surge built inside him, begging for release. He gave up trying to draw out the moment, and spilled inside her. It wasn’t enough. He kept moving in and out until his body protested the pace.
As the frantic moment eased back and then they stopped, she settled her head against his chest, and he rested his forehead against her. For several moments, the only sound in the room was of them trying to catch their breath.
“We forgot the protection.” Her words were muffled.
Oops. The news didn’t bother him the way it should. “Is that a problem?”
“Depends on how you feel about kids.”
Neutral? “I never really thought about it. I kind of like the idea.”
“We’ve got time. I’m on the pill. But it’s one of those things we have to figure out.”
“And we will.” He kissed the top of her head, then placed a finger under her chin, to raise her gaze to his. “As long as we do it together.”
The air conditioner kicked on, and the vent directly above them blew out a gust of chilled air. She shivered. “Maybe we should get dressed.”
“I guess that was the problem with having sex here instead of home.” He grabbed his shirt and draped it over her shoulders. “I’m not ready to let go of you yet.”
She laughed—one of his favorite sounds—and nodded at the champagne and strawberries. “Did we miss a step in your plan?”
“Having them here sounded romantic in my head, but you were more delicious.” He claimed her mouth again, loving the way she yielded and pushed back at the same time. “We should get back to my place, though.”
“Oh?”
“I promised you a good time, and if I do tonight right, you won’t be able to walk by tomorrow morning.”
“That’s a big promise. You’re so arrogant some times.”
“I’m up for it.” He followed her gaze down. “Or I will be, by the time we get home.”
She hopped from the table, and he helped her steady herself. Watching her dress, the way she moved, the tiny smiles she gave him each time she looked up—it was perfect. This felt more right than anything had in a long time. Maybe ending up with her was fate, and maybe not. But it felt as though, between the two of them, they were finally in control of their future. He liked that.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Bailey scanned the glass coolers, trying to decide what drinks she wanted for the next leg of their road trip. The gas station sat on the edge of the California-Nevada border, and she and Jonathan were headed east. Cool air soothed her skin when she opened the door and grabbed a bottle of soda. It amazed her how warm it was for November. It would be back in Florida, too, but this was dry
and she was parched.
Jonathan circled her waist from behind. She’d recognize his intoxicating scent anywhere. He traced his nose along her neck. “You almost ready, Mrs. Woodhouse?”
“That’s not my name yet.” She liked the way it sounded, though. Especially when he said it.
“Have you thought any more about details?”
“I don’t want Elvis there, but I can’t make up my mind about the drive-through.” They’d decided to elope—drive to Las Vegas for the weekend and get married. She had a big fancy wedding the first time around, and it didn’t help the way that relationship ended up. She and Jonathan would hold a reception later, for friends and family, but they agreed they wanted this moment for themselves.
“If you can’t make up your mind, we’ll go into the chapel.”
“Why?” she asked.
He pointed her toward the register. “It’s symbolic of our devotion and transitioning to a new life and...” He grinned when she raised her brows. “Really, I just like watching you walk.”
She leaned into him. “Sounds like a valid reason to me, Mr. Woodhouse.” She frowned. “It doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“Still sounds like you’re talking about my dad.” He paid for their drinks, and they headed out to the car.
She spun to face him when they reached the Mercedes. “That’s no good, then. How about Mr. Lovey-Schmoopy-Cuddly-Bear?”
He furrowed his brow, and then lunged for her and tickled her sides until she squealed. He dipped his head for a kiss. “I don’t care what you call me, as long as you’re the one saying it.”
“That’s cheesier than Mr. Lovey-Schmoopy-Cuddly-Bear. Dork.”
“It’s not. And I’ll ask anyone in this gas station to prove you wrong.” He turned away.
She grabbed his wrist. “See if the urge is still there next stop. We need to get back on the road.”
The Second Chance and The Auctioneer (The Love Equation, #3) Page 15
