Page 64 of Tied Up in Riches

My eyes drift back to her. I love the stars but in the science type of way. I took all five astronomy classes available in college on top of my regular course load for no reason other than interest. Although, I can’t say I’ve ever thought of space that way. But I don’t disagree. It makes me wonder if I’m starting to feel that way about her. There’s so much to her that can’t be captured in a picture, so much I want to know that no one else would if they only saw her frozen in this moment behind the glass of a frame.

At my silence, she turns to face me. “Is that stupid?”

I shake my head. “Not at all. The way you see the world is . . . refreshing. I don’t make time to see it that way.”

She steps away from the railing, bringing us only a foot apart as she eyes me like she’s not quite sure what to make of me.

Movement in the corner of my peripheral catches my attention, and I shift my glance away from her just long enough for confirmation on who is pushing through the door to ruin our moment.

“Touch me,” I whisper without thinking twice, fear rushing through me that if I don’t take this chance, Beau might make sure I never get it.

Her face scrunches. “What?”

“Touch me,” I repeat. “Trust me.”

She only hesitates for a moment before taking a step that closes the distance between us and sliding her hands under the fabric of my suit jacket, across either side of me, then meets my gaze like she’s awaiting the next instruction.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Her eyes widen, and her chest stops moving like she’s holding her breath, but I don’t give her a chance to object or respond or think twice. I bring my hands to either side of her neck, my fingers slipping gently into her tied up hair and my thumbs grazing her jaw as I pull her lips to mine.

She tenses for a split second, her fingers digging into my waist, but then she relaxes, tilting her head toward me more, letting me into her embrace and past her lips as I deepen the kiss. She catches a groan I couldn’t manage to suppress as her tongue tangles with mine. Goddamn, she tastes good. Like sweet wine mixed with bourbon and something unique to her.

Heat radiates from her as she presses her body against mine, like she’s burning up, like we’re on fire–a stark contradiction from the cool night air. A sigh escapes her like this is comforting–like I am. I try not to read into it as her arms slip around me, her hands running up my back with enough pressure that I can feel where they touch the edge of every muscle.

My grasp in her hair tightens, and I’m trapped somewhere between never wanting to pull back and getting carried away. I’m lost in her. Present. She makes me not want to be anywhere else or care about anything else except this moment with her. All the work I’ve been throwing myself into the past few days was mostly to keep me from doing this. I might have thought I could pretend it was a distraction and deterrent from her ex, but the moment her soft lips touched mine, it wasn’t just more than that–it became something different entirely.

I want Brooke Fields. And not for fake. Because this one kiss will never be enough.

Not wanting to get too deep, not before I know if she wants any of this to be real, I pull back just enough to break the kiss. She’s out of breath, her chest rising and falling, her eyes still closed. The gold sparkles in her makeup shimmers slightly in the starlight until her eyes flutter open and she stares up at me, my thumbs still locked on her jaw.

“What was that?” she whispers.

“Beau was about to join us.”

“Did he leave?”

I glance behind us to an empty balcony, the only people in sight are the ones surrounding the poker tables on the other side of the glass doors. I nod.

“That’s why you kissed me.” She says it somewhere between a question and a statement.

I hesitate, looking into her eyes as if the gold or the green in them might reveal what she wants me to say. “If you want that to be the reason.”

“Brooke!” The voice of her mother pierces through the night, disturbing the silence, and our moment, as both of us turn to face her. In the process, one of my hands slips from her face, but Brooke doesn’t let go of me. She keeps her arms linked around me and leans in closer like I could protect her from this woman. “You need to get inside. What is the point of you being here if you aren’t here?”

“Mom, relax. I just needed some fresh air.”

“This isn’t the time for a make-out session with your boyfriend, Brooke. Grow up.” Grow up? That’s her advice? This lady is about as mature as a fifth grade mean girl bullying everyone on the playground.

Brooke groans, but leans into me more and glances up. “Buy me another drink?”

I grin, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. “It’s an open bar.”

“In that case, I’ll have two.” She smiles, and it’s brighter than the stars, and my stomach sinks. I’m lying to her right now, and I hate it. The thought of her feeling about me the way she does about Beau makes me need two drinks.

We follow her mom inside, and she immediately leads us toward a group of people standing by one of the casino tables. My phone vibrates in my pocket as we’re approaching. I slide it out, praying it’s who I hope. The PI.

Brooke glances over at me, curious. I know I need to answer, but I don't want to leave her. I choose the long term priority and step away from her. “I need to take this.” Hurt flashes across her face–mixed with a little fear, like I ripped her safety blanket from her. “I’m sorry. Five minutes, okay?”

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