Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“My ex was waiting for me when I got home,” he says, a tension in his voice I’ve never heard before. “She flew in from Florida this morning, as soon as Adrian texted her about the baby. She thinks we should be supporting him by giving him my apartment, so he and Gigi can raise the baby in a safer part of town.”
My brows lift. “Wow, that’s…quick. She doesn’t want to make sure the baby’s his first? And she does know he currently lives in one of the safest buildings in the sleepiest part of the Upper East Side, right? We have a doorman, too.”
“She knows,” he says with a sigh. “This is just an excuse to try to force me to sign the apartment over to Adrian and, by extension, to her. She’s been angry about it for close to a decade. My business didn’t take off until a few years after our divorce was final. She didn’t get as much from me in the settlement as she felt she deserved.”
I make a sound I’ve never heard before, somewhere between a grunt and a squawk of outrage.
Across the street, Gideon laughs.
“Couldn’t agree more,” he says, the affection in his voice mirrored on his face. “Where are you?”
I feel a little guilty for spying on him, but this stolen moment is worth it. That’s not the face of a man who wishes I were more glamorous or spent more time on my makeup. That’s the face of a man who likes me just the way I am, weird noises and all.
“I’m almost there,” I say, launching into motion. I lift my hand as I stride toward the crosswalk. “Traffic was so bad, I had to get out and walk.”
His gaze finds mine and his smile widens. “There you are. Meet me upstairs? I’ll tell Derrick to put your name on my approved visitor list until I can get you a key.”
“Sounds good. See you in a few,” I say before ending the call.
I fight to keep my composure until Gideon disappears inside his building. Only then do I do a giddy happy dance on the corner, my smile spreading so wide it hurts my jaw.
He wants to give me a key to his place! Already!
If that’s not a sign he’s feeling the same “this could be something special” vibes I’m feeling, I don’t know what is.
When the crosswalk light changes, I practically dance across the street, happier than I’ve been since I left Maine at the end of the summer.
The next morning, as Gideon and I are feasting on pastries from the best French bakery in town, the doorbell rings.
“Just a second,” he says, an eager light in his eyes. “I’m expecting a special delivery.” Moments later he returns to the balcony, placing a gorgeous, old-fashioned-looking key beside my now-empty plate.
My brows shoot up. “You found a hardware store that delivers on a Sunday?”
“I did. One of the best things about New York City—it never sleeps. And even when it does, a bribe can usually wake it up again.”
I fight a smile. “You bribed a hardware store for me?”
“Too much?”
I shake my head, shifting off my seat and into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “No. It’s very sweet. Very comforting.”
“Comforting?” he asks, his big hand molding to the curve of my hip in a way that makes me ache for him again, even though we christened his shower less than an hour ago.
I nod and brush his hair from his forehead. “Knowing you want to eliminate barriers between us.” I bite my lip, my nipples tightening as his hand drifts lower. “Speaking of barriers, I was thinking about seeing my doctor this week, about an IUD. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about condoms.”
“That sounds amazing.” He reaches up, loosening the top of my robe until the V shows my cleavage. “As long as your doctor thinks it’s safe.”
“They’re completely safe, most of my friends have them,” I assure him, my breath catching as he slips a hand into my robe, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “We’re outside. Someone could see.”
“They could,” he agrees, continuing to touch me in ways that make my well-used body ache. “We could go inside. Or…”
“Or what?” I ask, my voice breathy.
“Or you could sit on the edge of your chair like a good girl while I duck under the tablecloth,” he murmurs. “Do you think you could do that? Keep your composure while I devour your pussy out here in the morning sun, butterfly?”
I should say no, or at the very least hesitate a beat or two—there are at least three nearby balconies with views of Gideon’s and God only knows how many other apartments—but I want him too much. I want to please him, and he knows it. That’s why he made his wicked offer the way he did.