Page 78 of The Best Man Wins

I sling my bag over my shoulder and clutch the folder to my chest. Someone’s hopes and dreams lie inside this folder, and I’m going to be damned if I let them down.

It’s going to be perfect. Susie Posy is back in business.

I leave the office space, and as soon as the door closes behind me, I take a second to breathe. I put the folder to my face and let out a repressed yelp of joy. I’m so happy, I could dance.

I compose myself enough to step out into the lobby. There, in one of the plush seats, sits Braxton. He’s wearing a thick fleece and crimson scarf to combat the brisk New York winter, plus he’s started to grow out his scruff a little to keep his face warm. The second he sees me, he stands. He’s holding a paper bag with a bear claw sticking out the top.

“Are you stress eating?” I ask him.

“No. This is for you.” He hands the sugar-covered pastry to me.

“Aw! You know me so well. You’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t cry,” Braxton begs. “Please. I become completely useless when you cry.”

I trade him my folder for the pastry and start to pick at the flaky crust. “How did it go?” he asks. He’s doing his best to stay unaffected, but there’s a strain of nerves in his voice.

“Read it and weep.” I point to the folder. “That’s my next wedding assignment.”

“Well, let’s take a look at it.”

“No!” I tell him quickly. “I can’t open it until I’ve had a drink at the Ritz. It’s tradition.”

“New tradition.” Braxton opens the folder and starts flipping through it. “It’s a destination wedding. The Bahamas.”

“What?” I quickly leap beside him to peek over his shoulder. “Holy cow. You’re not kidding.” I look up at him and smile. “Do you want to be my plus one?”

“I hate the beach.”

“And you hate weddings.”

“And palm trees.”

We walk as we talk and slip into the metallic elevator waiting for us. “Well,” I sigh dramatically. “I guess you’ll just have to stay here and freeze while I lounge around in my bathing suit.”

Braxton stares ahead. “Your bathing suit?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve got this really cute bikini at home…it has a little bow on the chest. Not that you’d be interested.”

“I might have to reconsider.”

The elevator doors slide shut. We’re alone. I look up and my eyes meet Braxton’s hard, dark gaze.

My folder falls to the ground, papers fluttering in the corner. I’m pinned between Braxton and the wall as his lips ravish mine hungrily. I gasp and hook my arm around his neck, holding him flush against me.

“I’m proud of you, Susie,” he murmurs against my lips as he quickly discards his jacket and scarf.

“How proud?” I bite my lip.

“Very.” Braxton reaches behind us and hooks his finger around the red emergency STOP, pulling it out. Immediately, the elevator lurches to a stop and starts to ring.

I let out a surprised breath of a laugh. “You can’t just…do whatever you want.”

“Can’t I?” He slips his hand up my skirt and wedges it between my legs. I gasp. I’ve flooded my panties, and his touch makes me burn. “You don’t seem to be complaining,” he murmurs, his hot breath hitting my ear.

I cling to him and moan as he melts my resolve under his dexterous fingers. Braxton hooks his fingers on my panties and pushes them from my legs, letting them puddle on the floor. He kisses me, deeply, and I taste his mouth, feeling his scruff tickle my chin. I hear the click of his belt buckle, and then he presses tightly against me and I can feel him.

I flush and I know my face must be burning bright red. But I’m too excited to care, a bundle of energy and want, and when Braxton slips his manhood inside of me, my breath gets caught in my throat. The elevator wall is hard on my back, and our clothes hiss together as he thrusts into me.

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