He presses so hard against me that I can feel the delicious outline of his erection. I can feel it, and I want more of it. I want all of him. My hands slide around, grabbing his ass, and I nearly groan in ecstasy.
He has the best ass.
So firm, so yummy. So absolutely hold-on-able.
“Nice butt,” I murmur in between kisses.
“Nice everything,” he whispers then devours me more, and I’m quite sure I’ll be sporting some serious whisker burn and equally sure I don’t care.
Because this is why kissing was invented.
For moments like this.
I can’t get enough of him. My body has a mind of its own, and I start to move and grind against him. To rub against that ridge, to squeeze those cheeks.
My self-control gallops away, and I’m ready to beg him to take me here, to take me anywhere.
But a throat clears.
When my eyes snap open to see the shoeshine man setting polish on a leather chair, my face flushes red.
“Goddamn Kissing Room,” he mutters, and that’s our cue to get the hell out of there.
Or we’re going to have to rename The Kissing Room—The Home Run Room.
26
Lulu
When we return to the starting point of the hunt, I don’t mind that our team fell far behind today.
Because we felt more like a team than we did yesterday, and because tonight I’m seeing Leo.
No matter what RaeLynn says, getting involved with Leo isn’t a bad idea. It’s never been about the work. It’s never been about Heavenly. It’s been about me, rebuilding my life, refurbishing my business.
After the teams fan out, returning to their corporate homes, I grab him and pull him aside. “It’s not foolish anymore.”
He quirks up his lips. “Is that so? Did you remove the seal of foolishness sometime today?”
I nod, smiling widely. “I did. It’s gone.”
“What changed?”
“Nothing and also everything.”
He laughs. “That’s broad and vague at the same time.”
I shrug. “I know, but the truth is, it’s simple. I thought about it. I weighed it. I decided it’s more foolish not to see what might come of you and me.”
“Pun intended?”
“Oh, I hope the coming won’t be a pun.”
“I promise there will be nothing punny in that department. But seriously, last night you were reticent.”
“I know. But life is short, Leo. I’ve been worried that in order to build my career, I needed to focus only on my career, but if I do that, I’ll miss out on another part of life—on us. Just like I missed out on my career beforehand. I don’t want to keep missing out, on either side. And even if RaeLynn tries to whisper insidious things in my ear, the reality is you aren’t my boss, and I’m not your employee, and this—us, whatever this is—will only get in the way of our business deal if we let it get in the way.”
He arches a brow. “RaeLynn?”
I tell him briefly what she said to me earlier. “And then she was so curious how we knew each other. I bet she goes on Facebook and stalks me tonight. But guess what? I have nothing to hide. In fact, I think we should tell Kingsley that I want to bang you.”
He cracks up. “That’s what you think we should tell her? I mean, it’s supremely awesome, but I think maybe it’s not the best approach.”
I tap-dance my fingers over his chest. “Fine. But I will be thinking about banging you when we tell her, let me assure you.”
He grabs my hand, squeezes, and says in a smoky, sexy voice, “That makes me very reassured.”
Quickly, we find Kingsley, who’s chatting with her sister in the park, debating whether Grey’s Anatomy jumped the shark in season five, six, or seven.
I jump in. “Season eleven. It was that episode when—”
Kingsley holds up a bejeweled hand. “Don’t say it. I like to pretend that never happened.”
I mime zipping my lips. Then I unzip them. “Actually, do you have a minute for something else? Something much more uplifting than a show that rips out your heart, then eviscerates it, then boils it with lobsters?”
“Of course. What can I do for you?” She steps away from her sister, and the three of us grab seats at an empty chess table.
I inhale deeply, ready to tell her, when Leo speaks.
“Lulu and I want to date. Is that going to be a problem?”
I burst into sunshine, loving that he jumped first.
Kingsley’s lips twitch, and she looks from him to me, me to him, like a seesaw. She chuckles. A little harder. Then louder, until she covers her mouth.
Kingsley waves her hand as if she’s trying to rein in her laughing. Eventually, she collects herself. “I’m sorry, but that was cuter than otters holding hands. You two are going on a poster in the subway for How to Date without Tinder, Cinder, and Hinder.”
“For the record, Hinder is the best. It just flat-out stops you from all dates,” Leo says, deadpan.
I dive in, going along with it. “Admittedly, Cinder was kind of fun, but eventually they all went up in flames.”
Kingsley’s eyes play tennis spectator between the two of us. “That’s what I’m talking about. This thing.”
“Actually, we’re heading to the transit authority next to have our photo taken,” Leo adds, keeping up the routine.
That’s the best part—we can tell her and do it like us, like two old friends, finishing each other’s sentences and making jokes.
Kingsley hoots then slaps a hand on the table. “Listen, I knew there was something cooking between the two of you. I knew it all along. And I am so delighted that I’d like to take credit. So, is that cool? Credit given to moi?”
“Take it. You can have all the credit you want.”
“Excellent. Now, I will only say two things.” Her expression turns serious, her tone pure boardroom. “If this explodes and turns into all sorts of relationship carnage and Facebook relationship statuses revoked, and if that affects the partnership, I will be a new shade of livid you won’t want to see.”
Leo parts his lips, but Kingsley is not a woman to be interrupted.
“That means I expect you to behave like adults, whether this works out or not. And Leo, you need to remember that Lulu is a very important business partner. Treat her with respect and kindness. And don’t be a dick.”
“I’m not a dick.”
“I know, but I have to say it.”
She looks to me. “And Lulu, this man is inscrutable. How you broke down his walls is beyond me, but kudos to you, and I expect the same as well. Behave like adults whether this goes badly or swimmingly.”
I squeeze Leo’s hand. “I vote for swimmingly.”
“Me too,” Leo says, and as Kingsley chats about her expectations for the line, I let myself enjoy how easy this was—telling her.
Then again, telling her was never supposed to be hard.
There was never a line in the corporate sand forbidding the two of us.
The line was personal, drawn by me, and I’ve undrawn it and I’m ready to step over it.
Kingsley folds her hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I want you to know I fully expect a wedding invite. I’d also like to sing at the wedding, and I hope you’ll name your firstborn after me.”
Leo’s jaw drops.
She flaps her hands, gesturing from me to him. “Don’t worry. If you have a son, you can name him Kingston. For the record, you’d make beautiful babies. I sure hope you’re getting to that soon. I’d like babies in the office. I’d like to throw a baby shower. I’d like to have a day care at work. My own children haven’t given me grandkids yet, and that kind of neglect needs to stop soon.”
I laugh, and Leo laughs lightly too, and it’s not one of those high-pitched nervous man laughs, but an easy one, like he doesn’t think any of these ideas are crazy. He taps his temple as if he’s filing away the info. “Duly noted.”
I make a note of it
as well.
Because I want that too.
Well, not yet.
But someday.
Maybe even someday soon.
And tonight I want that thing you do that makes them.
27
Leo
I meet up with Dean at the gym during lunch. As we climb endless steps, I give him the bare minimum update, and he raises a most curious brow.
“And does this mean you’ll be telling her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? As in, Lulu, I had it bad for you for years, and by ‘years,’ I mean for-fucking-ever.”
“That’d be a hard no.”
“That little detail will remain vault-level intel?”
I tap my skull. “One hundred percent.”
“And why’s that?”
I feign baring my soul to her. “Oh hello, Lulu. I think you’re the cat’s pajamas, and I have for years. Including, but not limited to, the day I met you, every time we hung out, and oh, also during your wedding to my best bud. Want to bang tonight?”
Dean pretends to swoon. “You had me at ‘hello.’”
I stare at him as I climb another level on the machine. “You do know I wasn’t whacking off to her under the table at the wedding reception?”
“But after the reception when you were home alone, right?”
I shoot eels from my eyes at him.
“Fine, fine. I’m not saying you ought to serve it all up tonight and wrap it with a pretty bow. But is it right going into a relationship, or whatever this is, without being completely honest?”
“There’s honesty, and then there’s stupidity.”
“Why is it stupid to let on that you fancied her for the better part of a decade? It’s kind of romantic.” He bats his lashes. “It’s you. It’s always been you. They just don’t make shows like Friends anymore. Was there anything better than Rachel and Ross finally getting together?”
I point furiously at him, as if his words have turned into alphabet soup in the air. “That. Right there. Life isn’t a Friends episode. And what if Ross was creepy? What if maybe in retrospect it made him look like a pathetic sad sack?”
“Ross? Never.”
“I’m serious. Imagine me telling her. I’m the guy, then, who harbored a massive fucking secret from his best friend—and also from her, and she’s a good friend too. A great friend.”
“You make a fair point. I suppose the alternative is you could suffocate under the weight of the secret forever and ever. Do that.”
I sigh heavily as I climb the five hundredth set of stairs. “I don’t want her to look back on everything we’ve done together and scrutinize it through the lens of this new information. And I don’t want to freak her out and make her wonder if every little thing I’ve said to her meant something else.” My blood heats, boiling like a kettle left on too long, and I’m whistling. “I just want to move on from the past. I can’t keep dredging it up.”
He hits the button to slow the cycle on his StairMaster. “Yeah, I get that. Embrace the present. But soon enough, it’ll come out. Just think about it.”
I relent. “I will.”
“But one more question. Why are you going for it now? If last night was a line in the sand, what changed today? Or did you get too horny to handle?”
I make a jerking gesture with my hand. “I can handle horny, thank you very much.”
“Bloody hell if I can.” He looks at his watch. “Speaking of, Fitzgerald has a game tonight. I need to go give him his good luck charm.”
“Do I even want to know what that is?”
“Oh, you might. It’s when—”
I wave him off. “Goodbye, Dean.”
“Mark my words. You’ll be wondering what it is.”
His question weighs on me the rest of the workday. Not what good luck charm Dean gives to his husband, but the other one.
Why am I going for it now?
As I replay the scavenger hunt earlier today, my answer to why now? lies in something unexpected. I want her to know, so I send a text in the afternoon, choosing directness.
* * *
Leo: Do you want to know what changed for me?
* * *
Lulu: Of course.
* * *
Leo: Noah.
* * *
Lulu: What does Noah have to do with anything?
* * *
Leo: When he grabbed the backpack and took off running. He just went for it.
* * *
Lulu: Am I the backpack?
* * *
Leo: I think you might be the backpack, Lulu.
* * *
Lulu: Are you going to go for me?
* * *
Leo: Yes.
* * *
I set my phone to silent and power through the rest of the workday. When I turn it back on, I find a missed call from Tripp’s mom.
My finger hovers over her contact info, and I’m this close to returning her call. But it can wait till tomorrow. I don’t want to be in that world tonight.
When I return to my place to shower, I walk past a picture of Tripp and me at his restaurant, some random night, and make a choice—to put him out of my mind.
Tonight, I choose not to think about that promise I made.
28
Lulu
The scent of truffles enrobes me. Sensual and rich, the aroma floods my nostrils as I craft a new batch to take to Kingsley tomorrow. Flavors of caramel, vanilla, and pistachios float through the air. Corinne Bailey Rae plays on my phone, drifting through the closed shop.
The door creaks open, and I nearly shriek when I see a familiar face—warm crinkles against dark blue eyes, dark-blond hair curling at the ends, and a grin just for me. I drop my tools on the counter and rush over to throw my arms around my best friend. Emotion slams into me all at once.
“You’re here!”
“Whoa! Did you forget I was coming back to town?”
“I just missed you.”
“My flight arrived early from Chicago,” he says, mentioning the site of his most recent hotel meeting. “Figured I should at least stop by and see my business partner before I go out on a hot date tonight.”
I let go of him to check out his shoes. Black loafers. “And you’re not wearing Crocs tonight.”
“Did I say I was wearing my loafers on my date? I have a brand-new pair of Birkenstocks I’ll be slipping into. Did I tell you I’m switching to Birkenstocks for the ladies?”
I cover his mouth. “You didn’t say that. We will never speak of your footwear again.”
“Flip-flops?” He tries to speak around my hand, and I shake my head.
“How about those foot gloves with the rubber-covered toes?”
I slump dramatically to the floor like the Wicked Witch melting, fitting since I’m wearing a green dress. “I can’t go on.”
Laughing, he offers me a hand, tugs me up, then whispers, “Confession: I’m wearing the loafers tonight. All because of you.”
“Praise the Lord!” I thrust my arms into the air. “Also, it’s so good to see you again. Business is going great here. The shop manager is awesome, and I’ve been trying to spend as much time as I can here, all while handling Heavenly stuff. But let’s talk about how awesome you are. Sounds like you were a rock star in Miami, and in Vegas, and in Chicago?”
“I sealed the deal with the hotel in Florida. Paperwork is all done. They want to carry Lulu’s Chocolates in their swank, chichi lobby shop. Flamingo-shaped chocolate for the win. And things are looking good with the Vegas hotel too, and the Chicago one.”
I grab his cheeks and kiss his forehead. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“And I love you. But I’m only here for a few minutes.”
“Who’s your hot date with? When I saw you in Miami last week, you mentioned a mystery woman. Is there a mystery woman in New York too?”
“Please. I am a one-woman man.”
“And a one mystery-woman man?”
“Indeed.�
��
“So who is the mystery woman?”
He arches a brow playfully. “Don’t you want to know.”
“I do. That’s why I asked!”
He squares his shoulders and takes a deep, exaggerated breath. “My grandma.”
“Aren’t you the perfect grandson?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been inspired to take her out. We have a date with Puccini.”
“And the perfectly cultured grandson.”
“That is true. Now, before I don my tux, hit me up with some sugar. Give me some of those new flavors so I know what I’m wheeling and dealing.”
I show him the chocolates, and he tries a few, rolling his eyes in pleasure. “You always do that. How will I ever know if these are truly good?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me. Would I lie to you?”
Cameron wouldn’t lie to me. Cameron has always been fully honest. That’s why I spit out the news that’s bubbling up inside me, because I’m dying to know what he thinks. “I think I’m falling for Leo.”
“Let me just slam on the brakes right now.” He makes a screeching sound, then shakes his head like a horse, trying to clear his thoughts.
He stares at me with bulging eyes, his voice hitting a few octaves higher than his deep, delicious baritone. “What did you just say?”
“I’m falling for Leo.” Saying it does crazy things to my heart. Makes the organ tap-dance around in my chest. “I think he feels the same. We’re going to date. We even told Kingsley at Heavenly. It’s nuts, isn’t it?”
“Nuts is when you wear muumuus and slippers to work. This is downright bananas, blowing-my-mind. You are aware he was the best man at your wedding?”
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