Page 54 of Dreamboat

I want to know about every single degree this woman has earned, but I’m not going to venture off the course I’m on now. “Where did you move after that?”

“Back home with my mom for just a little while.”

I nod. “How was that?”

“Great.” She sighs. “I needed the hugs and the humor. My mom is funny as hell.”

I’ve never met her, but I hope that happens one day. I know from the small amount of details that Matt has shared, that their father took off when they were all kids.

“Where did you land after you left your mom’s place?” I push.

“Park Avenue,” she says as she gazes wanders to the wall. “I’m still there.”

Rent isn’t cheap on that stretch of real estate. I know she’s been studying her heart out for most of her adult life. Matt has mentioned in passing that she’s a hell of a tutor and is paid top dollar for helping the children of some of this city’s rich and famous make their grades.

“My place is lovely.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s spacious and my neighbors are like family to me.”

“Do you live alone?”

That brings her gaze back to mine. “I do. I inherited my home from a friend. I wasn’t sure what to do with it at first, but I moved in to try and figure that out, and I’m still there.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Delia,” I say with genuine meaning behind it. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Thank you.” She smiles softly. “It was a long time ago. There are still moments when it’s hard, but it’s been years now.”

Grief doesn’t abide by a prescribed schedule. Unfortunately, I’m witness to that every day within my practice.

“What time do you leave for work?” she asks, effortlessly changing the subject.

“In a couple of hours,” I answer truthfully. “I like to get in early to get set up for what awaits me each day.”

“So we have time for coffee?”

I run my hand up her calf beneath the sheet that is still covering her. “Or whatever else you’d like to do.”

“I’d like to make your morning one you’ll never forget.” She taps her bottom lip. “Courtesy of my mouth.”

I’m on my feet in a split second. “I’ll shower first.”

She slides the sheet off completely to reveal her nude body. “I’ll shower with you. That way I can do what I want at the same time.”

She’s offering to blow me in the shower.

How the hell can I pass on that?

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Delia

“I need to leave soon because my doorman will know that it’s a walk of shame when he sees me show up dressed like this. I don’t want my neighbors to witness it, too.”

Donovan turns to where I’m standing in the entrance to his kitchen.

It’s not an overly large space, but it’s stunning. White upper cabinets perfectly complement the lower gray ones. The quartz countertop is a stark contrast to the black ceramic bowl sitting atop the center island. It’s filled with an assortment of citrus fruits.

I can already tell that Donovan used a few oranges to make me a glass of freshly squeezed juice. The evidence of that is sitting near an electric juicer in the form of hollow orange halves.

He pushes a glass toward me filled with the juice. “No champagne in this, Delia. Maybe tonight if you come back for dinner.”

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