Page 130 of Closer

“Well, I figured if you couldn’t come to dinner, dinner could come to you.”

He chuckles, that deep, rich sound that always makes my knees weak. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

I bite my lip, heat rising in my cheeks. “I try.” I guess I was wrong, thinking it would annoy him.

He sets the food on his desk, then turns back to me with a glint in his eye. “Actually, I have something for you too.”

“Oh?” My heart skips as he rummages through his desk drawers.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

I obey. Something solid and rectangular is placed in my palms.

“Okay, open,” he says.

It’s a book. Not just any book—the limited edition of ‘A Whisper of Scandal’, which is not even out yet. I gasp. “How did you get this?!”

“I have my ways.”

I’m so overwhelmed I could cry. Instead, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.

He kisses me back for a heated moment before pulling away, grabbing the food containers. “We should eat before it gets cold.” He moves over to the couch table, tapping the place beside him.

I settle beside him, and he hands me a container before opening his, the aroma of garlic and herbs wafting up.

“Mmm, smells delicious.” He digs in, humming appreciatively. “Tastes even better. Though not as good as you.”

I nearly choke on my pasta.

“You okay?” He smirks.

“Yes.” I elbow him lightly. “Gemma and Mary asked if we wanted to go on a triple date. We both could use a fun night out, and it’s been ages since we went out all together.”

“Sounds perfect. Count me in.”

“Great! I’ll let the girls know it’s on.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“So,” I venture, “rough day?”

He sets down his fork. “You could say that. A lot going on.”

I study him, taking in the tense set of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. He looks exhausted. Worn thin. And all because of me. I’ve been too greedy. Taking too much of his time.

“We don’t have to go on the date,” I say. “Let’s do it when everything cools down.” Reaching out, I lay a hand on his thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

“No, we should go.” He covers my hand with his own, larger and warmer. Callused. “I appreciate it. But…” He shakes his head. “I don’t want my work to affect us.”

“Hey.” I scoot closer, until our legs press together from hip to knee. “It won’t. Never. I will always be here for you like you are for me. Inwhatever way you need. And if work is currently a lot, I can understand that.”

Something flickers in his eyes, deep and heated and tinged with vulnerability. His thumb strokes over my knuckles, sending little sparks skittering through my veins.

“Careful, princess.” His voice is deep and gravelly. “I might take you up on that.”

“I’m counting on it,” I say.

“Fuck, the things you do to me…”

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