Page 8 of A Practical Arrangement

“Would you like a taste?” I delicately scoop a small spoonful of pistachio gelato and present it to him on the tiny utensil.

His lips part in anticipation as I slowly move the treat toward his mouth. As he savors the taste, a deep, guttural hum escapes from his throat, causing my body to tingle with desire. I imagine how the vibrations would feel against my skin, sending shivers down my spine and causing my nipples to tighten in response.

“Please, try this.” Grant offers a taste of his chocolate gelato and watches my reaction as he gently places the small spoon between my lips.

I try to maintain a composed expression, but I can feel myself melting under his gaze. How he manages to make even such a simple act seem hot is beyond me, and I suddenly wish I had more experience in the art of seduction. Everything I do feels childish. When I let out a soft moan, my body tenses with mortification, fearing my over-the-top appreciation makes me sound like a cat in heat.

Grant's bright blue eyes twinkle with amusement and his lips curve into a playful smile. In the moment, he looks almost mischievous, as if he has a secret to share. “It’s good, isn't it? Something this delicious can almost make you forget your troubles.”

I glance at Grant and playfully offer him the final spoonful, raising an eyebrow in question. "Is this all it takes?" I ask with a smirk, gesturing to the empty cup in front of me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you had it so bad at home. Your father liked to portray himself as a family man and I assumed that included you. I never knew you spent most of your childhood with your grandparents.” Grant hands me a napkin and dabs the tip of my chin, gently wiping away a spot of gelato—a gesture so simple yet so charged. It sends a shiver through me, an electric thrill I struggle to contain.

“What could you have done? We were hardly more than acquaintances.” I want to ask more poignant questions and perhaps uncover the depths of his feelings, but I can barely keep the conversation flowing consistently. I'm too enraptured by the way his eyes light up everytime I speak to conjure a coherent thought.

“Maybe you’re right. There wasn’t much I could have done. If I’d fired your father, that might have affected you negatively and if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t remember much about you before your birthday party. That’s probably for the best.”

I’m surprised to see Grant’s face turn pink and I’m happy he’d display such vulnerability in front of me. I’m desperate to know everything about him.

“I didn’t have an unhappy childhood. My grandparents took good care of me, especially my grandmother, Eleanor. She was my saving grace. Her passing forced me to move back in with my mother, but I always, always carry her memory close to my heart.” As tears form, I look away, not wanting to put a damper on our date.

“I’m sorry for your loss. She sounds like a lovely person.” Grant lets the back of his hand graze mine before our fingers lace together naturally, holding on to each other as if we were made to fit. “You know, I can't remember the last time I felt so close to anyone. I’m not used to letting anyone in, but there’s nothing about you that gives me pause. On the contrary, you just might bring out the best in me. I feel like I’ve lived my life on a bizarre autopilot of work and sleep, surviving but never really living.”

I nod, finding it hard to speak as my voice catches in my throat.“I feel close to you too.” He’s not wrong. Our connection is palpable, like a magnetic pull drawing us closer with every passing second. Can people truly fall in love so quickly?

As our evening continues, we stroll through the quiet streets, hand in hand, the sound of our footsteps in perfect sync. Every so often, he stops to admire something—a street performer, a quirky shop window—and I watch him, completely enamored by his newfound zest for life and wanting so badly to be a part of it.

Eventually we find ourselves on a weathered bench near the park, our fingers intertwined and our shoulders pressed together, sharing a comfortable silence that speaks volumes. In this moment, it feels as though the universe has aligned to bring us here—like all roads were always meant to lead to this precise point in time.

"I’m very happy you showed up at that club," Grant whispers, then brings my hand to his lips.”I needed to find a way to ask you out.”

"Me too," I reply sincerely. "I almost didn’t go." And then I take a chance. In a burst of courage fueled by our connection, I lean in and our lips finally meet.

Grant’s kiss is soft and hesitant at first, as if he’s seeking permission. But as I respond, his kiss deepens, growing more passionate with each breath. Our evening of pent-up emotions, desire and longing are released in one blistering kiss that melts away all my inhibitions.

I don’t want to go home tonight. I need to find out where this passion takes me.

When we break away for air, we gaze at each other, smiles spreading across our faces. This may not be an ordinary relationship and right now I don't need to define it. Living in this moment with him is enough.

Chapter 11

Grant

The night airis thick with the electricity of our connection as we sit side by side on the plush seat of the limousine, our thighs brushing against each other. The soft glow of the moon filters through the tinted windows and casts a romantic hue over us. Our mutual desires are on the brink of unraveling on their own. After all, we’re two consenting adults who have been unable to disguise our attraction all evening. Nature was bound to take its course, but I for one, couldn’t wait.

With a slight hesitation, I speak her name, savoring the sound of it as it rolls off my tongue. "Ella?" I ask, using that one word to seek permission for all the depraved things I long to do to her.

“Yes,” Ella whispers, the word emerging like a nervous sigh.

“Yes?” I confirm her consent with a long, smoldering gaze, doing everything I can to keep my ravenous needs in check.

Ella nods, then sets her hand on mine, gently lifting it and placing it on her thigh. “Don’t you know by now?”

When I furrow my brow with confusion, she gives me a sly smile, and leans an inch closer.

I place my hand on her cheek and let my finger trace the line of her jaw before lifting her chin to meet my gaze. Her softgreen eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief as I speak, "You’ve truly blossomed into a stunningly beautiful woman." A flush creeps across her cheeks at my words and I can’t resist brushing my hand against their delicate warmth. "You have no idea how irresistible you've become."

The soft light streaming through the moonroof highlights the curve of her lips and the arch of her eyebrows. She looks like a work of art I could blissfully admire forever.

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