Page 21 of The Businesswoman and the Bartender

Huffing a laugh, he curled around to kiss her. “Don’t move.”

He took a few steps to the bathroom and returned with a damp washcloth, which he used to clean her coated skin. Then he pulled her jeans all the way down and carefully helped her step out of them. Her shirt was removed next, and he carried her the short distance into the restroom, where he ran a bath in the luxurious tub.

He held her hand as she shakily stepped over the ledge and settled in the heated water. She didn’t have to coax him to join her, since he immediately shed his clothes and positioned himself behind her, the water sloshing around them. They sat in satiated silence, but a million thoughts roared through her brain.

We’re good together, aren’t we?

I’m not crazy for thinking there’s something here, right?

Would you want to visit New York sometime?

Should we maybe give this a try?

But she never voiced any of them, and soon their skin pruned. They left the tub and toweled off, retiring to bed.

She slept restlessly, as if her body sensed that she shouldn’t waste any of the time she had left with him. And he seemed to have the same thought because, at some point in the dead of night, he fumbled for his wallet and retrieved another condom. Her eyesight had adjusted to the dark, so she saw the question in his eyes and nodded her consent.

They quietly moved and rocked against each other in soft lovemaking that was the opposite of their earlier frenzied fucking. And yet, it suited them just as well.

SIX

She’d never wantedto miss a flight more in her life.

It was early morning, and she still hadn’t packed. As a frequent traveler, she’d established a strict routine over the years—the night before the flight, she laid out her travel clothes, which often consisted of leggings and a sweatshirt, and packed everything but her toiletries. Then the next morning, she collected the final pieces, placed them in her luggage, and was on her way. Clean, easy, and straightforward.

But departing Seattle would be none of those things.

They were still tangled up in bed when Nick whispered, “What time is your flight?”

“Eleven.”

He lifted his head to find the digital clock on the nightstand, and then his chest lifted and fell with a despondent sigh. “We should start getting up.”

“We should,” she agreed glumly. “But I don’t want to.”

“I know.” He paused and kissed her temple. His lips lingered there as he pulled in a breath. “Trust me, I know.”

Nevertheless, they eventually schlepped out of bed and dressed. She packed in silence, and Nick assisted when he could, placing the cap on her toothpaste and checking the room to make sure she’d unplugged all her chargers from the outlets. The entire process was exceedingly morose, like a funeral for a relationship that had never fully begun.

If nothing else, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of him. She’d wait until they finally parted ways, and then she’d allow the tears to fall. It was certain to be a wretched six-hour flight back east, but she’d survive it somehow. And while she was proud of herself for finally opening her heart again, she would give anything to have more time with him.

He sat on the bed and watched as she kneeled on the floor to zip her luggage. She didn’t want to look at him—it would make her cry prematurely. But at the same time, all she wanted was to stare at his face and commit him to memory, to keep him in the secret and sacred place she rarely allowed anyone to go.

Out of the blue, he spoke and shattered the silence. “I have a buddy who lives in Queens.”

Time stood still as she took in his words. Then she turned her head to look at him. “You what?”

He nodded slowly. There was uncertainty in his features, and his eyes searched hers intensely before he said, “An old high school friend. He moved out there for work a few years back. I’ve been thinking it might be nice to visit.”

The knot that had formed in her chest over the past few days started to dissipate thread by thread. “Is that right?”

“You don’t suppose you’d want to…maybe…”

She launched herself at him, enveloping him in a hug. They fell back onto the bed together, and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder as emotion rushed to the surface.

Despite her attempt to conceal the waterworks, he caught on. “Oh God, I don’t want you to cry.”

“I’m crying because I’m happy,” she insisted. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

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