Page 152 of A Little Broken

“Mmm, yes,” she sighs against my mouth. “About that.”

“Did you find a dress?”

Her head bobs. “Maybe.”

“And shoes?”

She grins.

“Good girl.”

43

TATUM

After a short ride on Paxton’s bike, he drops me off at my apartment, telling me he’ll be back in an hour for our date. I was so excited until after I hopped out of my shower. I blame the hot water and the quiet. Regardless, now that I’m home, the idea of going on some adventurous date after my run-in with Officer Butthead feels a little…exhausting. All I really want to do is mentally recharge and compartmentalize everything that’s happened over the last few days. As I fix my hair and touch up my makeup in the bathroom, a soft knock echoes from the front door, and I give myself one last second in front of the mirror before rushing to answer it.

On the other side is a handsome as ever Paxton in a dark gray suit, holding a dozen red roses.

“Why, hello.”

“Hey.” His genuine smile turns devilish as he scans me up and down. “You look…”

I smooth down the silky fabric. “Do you like it?”

“Fucking love it.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Here.” He offers me the roses, and I step aside, inviting him in before heading to the kitchen in search of a vase.

Glancing around the empty apartment, he asks, “Where’s Rory?”

“Taking Hades on a walk.”

“Ah, of course.”

I can feel his gaze on me as I fill a vase with some water and set the roses inside.

“They match your dress,” he murmurs.

“Seems you have good taste,” I reply.

“Seems we both do. So,” he rounds the counter, grabs my hips, and sways us back and forth in the empty kitchen. “I want you to know I had some pretty epic plans for tonight.”

“Had?” I challenge.

“I figured after the police run-in, you already had enough excitement for one day.”

My chest swells at his thoughtfulness and how well he seems to know me. My wants and needs. Hell, sometimes it feels like he knows me better than I do, and even though I should find it a little off-putting, it isn’t. Not in the slightest.

“That’s quite the assumption,” I note. Linking my fingers at the nape of his neck, I toy with the semi-short strands of sandy-blond silk. “You know, you could’ve told me there was a change of plans before I spent the last hour getting ready.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision. Besides, I had to make sure my plan B would still knock your socks off.”

“And what’s plan B?” I ask.

“You’ll see. Although, it does still require clothing—for now—so I don’t feel too bad about leaving you in the dark. Besides, this view?” His attention falls to my boobs, and he whistles. “Damn, Tatum.”

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