Page 45 of Recon Rendezvous

“Alexander Grant. Nice to meet you.” I offer a small smile and a firm shake.

Nodding, she turns to London. “Are you ready to head up? I think you’re going to like this one.”

London doesn’t seem convinced, but she nods before turning to me. “It was… good to see you.” The warmth in her voice tells me she means it and that hits me in the chest.

“Wait,” I say, taking her arm. “If you would excuse us.” I nod to Ana before pulling London away. “You’re looking at an apartment in this building? Let me help since I’m guessing Sasha was supposed to. I’m better anyway, I watch tons of HGTV. House Hunters is one of my favorites.” It’s one of her favorites too, but I keep my knowledge of that to myself.

She gives me a strange look before a small smile lifts her lips. “Fine. I could use some help. Your place is close by. I’d love to hear more about this neighborhood, too. Although, this isn’t exactly what I’m looking for. The amenities are nice.”

I nod as we turn back to Ana and I hold the door open for her to walk through before London breezes by, the aromas of vanilla and something I can’t quite put my finger on wafts around me triggering a vision of us tangled in silk sheets and before I can stop myself, my hand comes down to smack her ass.

“You’re welcome, babycakes, and I’m loving the shoes,” I say, eyeing her blood red patent leather stilettos. She looks back over her shoulder with an exaggerated scowl, but I don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes as she turns, hips swaying, and follows Ana to the elevator.

Trailing behind her on this random Wednesday, I can’t hold in my smile. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Once we’re in the apartment she’s here to see, I lock my lips, keeping my expression impassive as I take it all in. Nice views. Gleaming dark hardwood floor. Basic white walls. Boring ass white kitchen.

Not what I pictured for London at all. But I keep it all to myself as I follow her through the two-bedroom, two-bath apartment.

“Check out this closet, London. I don’t think it’s even big enough to fit the different pairs of shoes I’ve seen you wear,” I call out, unable to point out yet another shortcoming.

Sticking her head around the corner into the primary closet, she grimaces, before meeting my eyes and we both laugh, as Ana joins us.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to step out to take this call. Please take a few minutes to walk through again and then we can chat about options.”

We watch her leave, both quiet until we hear the click of the door closing.

Finally joining me in the closet, I whisper, “Okay, what do you really think about this place?”

Leaning closer, she whispers, “Why are we whispering?”

Something flips over in my gut, her use ofweinstead ofyoucements these staggering feelings that are roaring like a forest fire and it seems like we’re in this thing, whatever it is, together.

Looking around the too small, underwhelming space, I shake my head before holding out my hand for her to take.

“Come with me.”

After an almost imperceptible hesitation, her eyes flitting from my outreached hand to my face, she takes my hand in hers. Almost instantly, I relax into it, even though a current of heat and awareness flows through me from where we’re connected.

Leading her into the character-free living room and even with it being an open concept with a clear view of the kitchen, it still feels small, stifling. Stopping in the center of the room, I move behind her, my hands instinctively sliding to her waist. After a brief caress, they continue their exploration, meeting the cool texture of her leather pencil skirt as I grasp her hips.

And like every time before, she practically melts into me, her body fitting perfectly to mine and we’re melded together. Shetrembles, my breath fans through her hair, my lips grazing her ear as I whisper.

“When I picture you, safe and sound at home, cuddled up on the couch with a book and a glass of your favorite wine. This sterile, boxy space isn’t what I imagine. You’re so poised and always so put together out there. Home shouldn’t be that for you. Instead… Homey. Comfortable. I see a large, overstuffed sofa, where you get lost in the plush cushions. A roaring fireplace for those notorious Chicago winters. Beautiful moldings and maybe exposed brick. Wood beams. Custom built-ins to display your books or knickknacks from your travels.”

Turning her toward the sliding glass door, expansive views of Chicago below, I say, “I see tree lined streets, a neighborhood, maybe acres of lush greenery, or even lake views. Outdoor space where you can entertain privately with your closest friends, not the shared communal space available here.”

Maneuvering her to face me, those pretty eyes are wide as they hold mine, and I can’t resist running my thumb over her cheek and below her glossed lip.

“Don’t get me started on that closet. We need a nice space to exhibit all those beautiful shoes you keep teasing me with.”

Before she can say anything, Ana walks in, her voice sounds like she’s speaking underwater as we remain in this little bubble we built in this quiet space.

“So, what do you think?” she calls out.

Not taking her eyes off mine, she smiles softly before pursing her lips. “Let’s keep looking.” She pauses, her eyes searching mine. “You’re full of surprises, Alexander Grant.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tease that she could be full of me, but instead, she beats me to it.

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