by Ella Brooke
“My sister put all of her bridesmaids in boxy, peachy-beige dresses that came to the knee. They all looked like they wandered off a cult farm somewhere.”
“Sounds delightful. I’m sure the wedding photos were lovely.”
“It was awful. I had to wear a powder blue suit. I looked like the host of a children’s show.”
For the first time, Kit rewarded him with a genuine chuckle. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“If you’d answer my friend request on Facebook, you could see all the dorky pictures of me you want.”
Kit eyed the hors d’oeuvres and tried to reached the waiter as he walked by, but Buck was in her way. Why did guys like him have to be so damn tall?
“So I think we should both go chat up Dr. Washi. He’s one of the leading cardiologists in the country.”
“I know this. My mother has worked with him.”
Buck gave her a questioning look.
Kit rolled her eyes. “My mother. The anesthesiologist. Eldon knows me.”
“Who’s Eldon?”
Kit sharply elbowed Buck. “Dr. Washi. Were you listening at all when I volunteered for this in the meeting last Tuesday?”
“Of course.”
Kit sighed. She led the way over to Dr. Washi to make introductions, hoping she would be able to slip away from him soon, and if not, that she would be able to grab some food.
Buck quickly took over the conversation, boring Dr. Washi enough that he ended up excusing himself to go speak with the chief of medicine. That left Kit stuck with Buck as she tried to make connections around the room, blunting the force of Buck’s clearly one track mind when it came to hooking new clients.
Soon, the chief stood to thank everyone for coming, and a string quartet took the stage.
“This is a nice evening,” Buck said, moving closer to her.
Kit stepped to the side. “They tend to be. Though they’re boring as hell.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Buck took another step toward her. “I can think of some things to do to pass the time.”
Kit inched to the side again, but it seemed like every time she moved, he just kept getting closer. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Buck caught her arm fast. “Where are you going?”
Kit blinked up at him in disbelief. “Where might a lady go after drinking two flutes of champagne?”
To her surprise, the hint didn’t land. Buck pulled her closer and whispered, “Why don’t we take a turn on the dance floor? The music is beautiful, and the lighting is so romantic.”
“I don’t really dance, Buck. And it’s not why we’re here,” she protested.
“Come on. Let’s have a bit of fun before getting back to work. It is a party after all. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“And yet, the answer is no.”
Buck put his other hand on the small of her back, and Kit weighed the consequences of digging a heel into his foot. A dance wasn’t so bad… But she didn’t want to be seen leading him on. He could be so creepy sometimes.
“Just let it happen… You’re not a bad dancer.”
“I’m not dancing. You’re moving, and you have your arms around me,” Kit snapped.
“Don’t be that way,” Buck chided.
Jaw clenching, Kit was on the verge of exploding molten vitriol all over this pushy asshole when a hand touched her shoulder.
“Pardon me,” a warm and familiar voice boomed. “I’d love to have the next dance, if Kit wouldn’t mind.”
Kit turned her head to see that boyish smile that had always made her knees turn to jelly. Those midnight blue eyes that had always pierced into her inner depths in a way that she couldn’t define.
It was Grant Wharton. But now his broad shoulders seemed even broader, and he had a bit of a five o’clock shadow. He was more handsome than he’d ever been. He was also three inches taller than Buck and towered over them both.
“Don’t you recognize me?” Grant said with feigned hurt.
“I remember you,” Kit insisted.
“We’re having a moment, if you don’t mind,” Buck said.
“I do.” Grant closed his large hand around Buck’s wrist. “I really do.”
As Grant squeezed, Buck stared back with disbelief, clearly not used to being told what to do. After an extremely awkward moment, Buck let go and backed way.
He cleared his throat, trying to cover. “I’m Buck Gable, associate and department head at Gable & Pines, and this is—”
“I know her, and I don’t care what you are.” Grant cocked his head to the side. “Though since you asked, I’m Grant Wharton, yes, son of the general surgeon attending, and yes, we’re leaving now. Have a good evening.”
Grant gave Buck a little parade wave as he absconded with Kit. She was so stunned to see him that she said nothing, just gave a little glance back at Buck sharply. She’d never hear the end of it around the office, but for at least tonight, she had some better company for the evening.
As they cut through the crowd of dancing affluence, Kit felt her body being drawn close. That familiar pull that had once had her coming to his bed, even when it had hurt to be so near him when he thought nothing of her but a diversion.
And still, she went with him, wanting more than anything to stay by his side despite her old wounds threatening to open.
Chapter Three
Grant
Grant had been a bit uncertain about approaching Kit when he’d spotted her, but the moment that swaggering bully had started pawing on her, he’d found himself cutting through the crowd, and his hand had been clenching the man’s wrist before he could even properly think.
It would probably never be easy to see anyone have their hands on Kit, but holding her arm like that simply could not be tolerated.
“I hope you like the chivalry impression,” Grant said lightly.
“Very convincing. I’m sure Buck thought so,” Kit said cheekily.
He looked down on her. Her cheeks were still a bit pink with anger, or perhaps embarrassment. The color, even the lingering annoyance, made her even more gorgeous. The dress hugged her hips in a way that seemed to invite staring, though Grant did his best to be a gentleman. If he started, he wouldn’t stop.
Instead, the image of her luscious curves hovered just out of his line of sight.
“It’s so good to see you.” Grant offered her a tentative smile. “It’s been a long time.”
“Well, you do get busy with law school,” Kit breezed, letting her arm fall away from him.
Grant ignored the barb. He remembered pretty clearly being the one who’d failed to call her, who had ignored her messages in favor of other interests… and other women. Surely, she remembered.
“I’d imagine. So you’re a lawyer now?”
“Absolutely. I’m here along with a few other associates, making sure our clients see us out there being friendly and charitable.”
Grant nodded slowly. “It’s like old times, isn’t it? You and me among a throng of wealthy people determined to show off.”
“As if you aren’t one of them.”
“Anesthesiologists don’t get paid badly either, kid, or you wouldn’t have been able to afford that prep school that we attended together.” Grant shook his head. “But don’t tell my mother I said so.”
“Did you ever give in to her?” Kit asked with a bit of teasing in her voice. “Are you Dr. Wharton now?”
Grant scoffed and turned to pluck two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “Perish the thought. I’ve disgraced the family name, but I’m not at all a doctor. Not even one of the specialties the lordly surgeons look down upon.”
Kit shook her head. “The family shame.”
She cast a glance over her shoulder, and Grant frowned. Were she and that asshole a thing? Had he walked into a couple’s spat and unwittingly played into their games? Grant found that if you slept with enough women, you were likely to find a few with their own agendas beyond a little mutual fun.
Grant handed a glass to her, and Kit looked at it dubiously, then took it.
“Where are those damn lobster puffs? I’ve been getting food blocked all night,” she said.
Grant chuckled—he remembered how healthy an appetite Kit had—and offered his hand. “Let’s do a lap. We can ostensibly socialize while chasing the waiters down.”
“That I will agree to, definitely.” Kit hooked her arm into his. “I don’t remember your mother ever failing to serve dinner at a function like this. Just hors d’oeuvres? With this much champagne floating around?”
“It’s like a frat party. With doctors,” Grant replied cheerfully.
The look on Kit’s face when she finally got to eat a lobster puff was priceless. She sank her teeth into the puff and rolled her eyes back in her head. Then she draped a hand over her forehead as though she were about to faint.
Grant couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t know if it was the champagne or the years that had passed; Kit was still herself, but she was also so much more. It was like she had finally settled into her awkward teenage skin and come out a confident, curvaceous woman. No more hiding behind sweaters. No more hiding behind her hair.
He wanted to pull her close to him and see if her lips still felt as soft, and if her kiss was as confident and fiery as she seemed now.
But Grant bided his time. He could see her coworker lagging behind them, as though waiting for Grant to leave and give him the opportunity to smear his grubby little hands on her again. Grant had no intention of doing that. In response, he threw a casual smile back to the man and fetched two mini-quiches from a nearby waiter.
After a bit of food and her third (she said) glass of champagne, Grant and Kit retired to a far wall, chatting about their careers and where they were located in the city. Kit remained close to the center, of course, with her job, but Grant held back in fully explaining his situation. For some reason, he didn’t want her to know quite yet… He wanted her to settle into knowing him again first.
“Imagine my mother’s feelings on the matter. I run an app. I’m in charge of a program you use on your phone. How ridiculous is that?” Grant was proud of being able to suppress his smile.
“I mean, as long as you make ends meet, I don’t see a problem with it. What app is it?”
“SideHustle. Have you heard of it?”
Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “Isn’t that one of those task sharing apps? Like, oh, what is it? I can’t remember the name. Task Rabbit? Fiverr? They’re all named after bunnies.”
“It’s exactly like that. Anyone can get on and offer their services to people in the city, and people can put out requests for something they do, and come and say, build a sofa or wash their dishes real quick or organize their file cabinets, or write/edit something the Sider needs,” Grant explained. “Only we’ve sunk more resources into training and participant screening. A program like ours is an easier start-up if anyone can do it, but we’ve got a number of corporations that are doing their temp hiring through our app because people can trust our contractors and we’ll make sure the workers get paid.”
“That must’ve been hard. There’s so much competition.”
“There’s less than you’d think. I have a harder time explaining this to people in my mother’s generation. They don’t know what any of these apps are, aside from Uber.” Grant shrugged. “People just don’t think about having someone run errands for them. But the truth is, you and I grew up with parents who had all of these things done for them regularly. My mother never did a day of laundry once she got into medical school. She just sent it out. With my app, people have someone come do the laundry for them while they’re doing other things.”
“That’s pretty bougie.” Kit smiled.
“It is, and it isn’t. I like to think of it as giving something to regular working people that the upper class has always had available. It frees up a lot of time, but most people don’t exactly have the extra scratch to hire a personal assistant on a regular basis.”
Kit bobbed her head. And kept bobbing her head for several long seconds.
“You don’t agree?”
“Oh, no. I’m just thinking it over. This champagne is great, by the way.” Kit pressed a hand to her cheek, feeling it. “I shouldn’t have had the last glass, though.”
Grant touched her shoulder gently. “Would you like some water? Or coffee?”
“Both of those things would be good. But I don’t see a coffee dispenser around here.”
Grant cast a quick look around the room. Then he motioned for Kit to come with him. Her eyes glittered impishly as she followed, holding the side of her dress so she could hurry. Grant gave a nod to the security guard at the side door and then held it open for her. She gave a little bow before gliding through like a princess, and he darted after her.
They ran down the hallway like two teenagers, stopping just for a moment as a few workers strolled past. They paused for a few seconds to throw a few questioning glances Grant and Kit’s way, but went about their business without saying a word.
The two looked at one another and laughed.
“Do you remember that time at my parents’ house? When they had the other doctors over…?”
“That would be hard for me to forget.” Kit took a moment to readjust her heels as they hurried down the hallway.
“That good, huh?”
“I had nothing to compare it to, playboy.” Kit clicked her tongue and winked at him.
Grant spotted the doors to the kitchen and led the two of them through. “What do you mean… Oh, right.”
“Ohhhh,” Kit teased, walking past him. The kitchen was mostly empty. “Huh. Where is everyone?”
“I’ve been to this hotel before. They have a kitchen nearer to that ballroom. This one is for the restaurant and room service, but we’re past hours.”
“Well, aren’t you clever.” Kit walked over to the sink and looked around for a glass.
Grant took one from a rack of clean dishes and held the glass under a spout built into the refrigerator. “This will taste better.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” Kit sipped her water and looked up at him with those intense, rich brown eyes of hers.
Grant turned away to look for the coffee. “Tell me something. Did you ever regret that? The night at my parents’ house?”
“Did you? I thought we did pretty well.”
Kit’s tone was flippant, but her face was guarded. She set her glass on the counter and went about making the coffee herself. Grant remembered that she had always seemed to have a coffee cup in her hand.
From behind, he could see how snugly her legs and ass filled out that dress. It didn’t seem like the type of dress that Kit would normally wear. It lacked her humor and her quiet joy. But he couldn’t say it didn’t look phenomenal on her, or that it didn’t make him want to revisit old times beyond their lightheartedness and storytelling tonight.
On a whim, he stepped behind her. She stilled, like a doe near a hunter, and he waited just a second before placing his hands on her hips.
“You are still one of the loveliest women I’ve ever known.” He was being baldly honest. It was so hard to resist her, here or anywhere.
“That’s saying something for you, isn’t it?”
Grant chuckled deep and low as he bent his head over her shoulder. She turned her head to look back at him, and their eyes met. There was something there, something not quite open to him, and yet she wasn’t unwilling. Nor was she afraid. She turned on the coffee maker, and it started to make straining noises as she pulled on his belt and started unbuckling his pants.
“Kit,” he scolded lightly.
She ignored his complaint and slipped her hand inside, her eyes lighting up as she realized he wasn’t wearing any briefs.
“Someone was planning on having a happy evening,” she teased.
Grant bent over to kiss her. It was a hungry kiss, but also one to wipe that smirk off of her face. Her wicked fingers began to stroke the length of
him, as though her fingers were as famished as his lips. She wanted him, deeply; he could tell, and whatever she had been reserving with her words came through with the little strokes and flicks of her wrist.
Too quickly, Grant became worried that there was a real danger of ruining his pants, so he placed his hands on her shoulders to slow her down, and pulled back just a little to get the slate Armani out of the line of fire. The corners of Kit’s eyes creased, and she gave a little nod.
What had she just agreed to?
In a moment he knew, because her lips were wrapped around the tip of his erection in a worshipful kiss. She groaned softly, stroking his shaft with expert tenderness before licking a wide swirl around him, like savoring a lollipop. He found himself gripping the kitchen island behind him and casting a look back to the doors.
But she wasn’t done, and she wasn’t stopping. Kit opened her mouth wider, suckling as she took him in inch by inch, toying with the soft, tender flesh below. When she finally began to move her head, he was already so hard that it was a bit painful, and he clutched the back of her hair inadvertently. She hesitated slightly, but then moved faster, gobbling him up, devouring him.
Sucking him until his breathing was ragged and his knees weak.
When he came, she took all of him in, still aggressively milking his erection for more. He rested back on his elbows and let out a sigh.
“That was…”
“Classy?” Kit joked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I was going to say unexpected.” Grant closed his eyes for a moment before pulling his pants back up and tucking his shirt in. “But much appreciated.”
“I thought…” Kit’s cheeks started to grow red. “When you pulled your pants down…”
“I just didn’t want to make a mess. But you certainly took care of that for me.” Grant winked and poured her a cup of coffee. “Do you take cream?”
Kit swatted his arm. A little hard.
“Of course, you don’t take cream. You take it black as sin with a few sugars. I should’ve remembered.”
“That wasn’t what I—”
“I know.” Grant touched her burning cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her eyes seemed a bit dewy as he placed the coffee mug in her hands. “Are you okay?”
