Page 5 of My Little Secret

“I know enough to know that we have a lot of work to do,” she said, eyes twinkling as she looked up at me. God damn, she was beautiful. Something about her made me feel comfortable, from the second she opened her mouth. Like we’d been best friends once before. Besides, girls—women—never approached me. It was always coy looks from across the room until I took the bait or sending a mutual friend to do the dirty work of setting us up. Sadie was special. Her leggings alone proved that.

“What is up with your pants?” I smiled down at her leggings, trying to decipher the design. It was swirls and maybe part of the ocean…I couldn’t figure it out. But she looked damn fine in them. Her ass cheeks were two round fruits I was desperate to bite into. Looked like she knew enough about keeping herself fit, but not so much as to lose that softness I craved.

“What do you mean?” She sounded panicked, looking down at her legs. And then she slipped—I mean, theater-grade slipped on a slippery patch of sidewalk—and gasped. I caught her before she fell, and she iron-gripped my forearm. The cutest little squeal escaped her.

“Jesus H., I almost died,” she breathed, hanging onto me as if her footing still wasn’t stable beneath her.

“I got you,” I murmured, relishing the closeness. Her breath came out in hot puffs by my chin. I liked being this close to her.

She straightened unsteadily and then slowly let go of my arm. “Okay. Apparently, we can’t talk about my legs if I want to be able to walk.”

“But I like talking about your legs.” I saw her cheeks go red, and not from the cold.

“Then we should talk about my legs.” She nodded. “My leggings are octopus tentacles.”

A laugh burst out of me. “What?” I stopped in my tracks, examining the design. “Hell, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I designed them.” She shook her hips as she walked down the sidewalk as if strutting on a catwalk.

I lifted a brow, catching up with her. “You design clothes?”

“Just stuff I like.”

My hotel was on our left. I guided her into the foyer, all gleaming tiles and quiet elegance. We headed for the elevators. She hugged her arms around her as we waited for the car.

“You do everything,” I said.

“I try to be a Jill-of-all-trades.” Sadie cast me a shy smile. “But I still haven’t mastered certain things, like outdoor survival skills or cooking lasagna.”

God, she made this too easy. Or maybe we were just perfect complements to each other, made evident from knowing each other for only two hours. “Well it just so happens I know how to survive outdoors. I can teach you.”

She narrowed her eyes, the elevator lurching into motion. It carried us up toward the ninth floor. “Oh yeah? Even if a bear attacked?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I could fight it, at least. Long enough so you could escape to safety.”

“And you can make lasagna?”

“Of course. My grandma is from Italy.”

She groaned as the door dinged on the ninth floor. The doors slid open and she stomped out. “Ok, fine, let’s just add outdoor survival and making lasagna to our list of things to do then.”

I laughed. With her, we might never run out of things to do. “Come on.” I jerked my head toward the end of the hallway where my suite was. She buried her hands in her coat pockets, that furry hood still framing her face.

“Now I gotta tell you…” I swiped my key at room 909 and paused, stepping closer to her. “Or maybe I should warn you. Once you step inside this room…”

She lifted a brow.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

Her pink lips curved into a smile. “Only inside there?”

“I’ve wanted to since the bar. But I don’t like to make a display.”

Her gaze turned sultry and soft. “Fair enough. I’ll agree to that.”

I pushed the door open and we both watched it swing back, revealing my suite—the tiny foyer and side table, the living area, the doorway leading to the bedroom. When our gazes met, it felt playful.

“You first,” I said.

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