Page 52 of Hot Shot

“Later,” I say. “Promise me.”

She draws in a long breath, her full breasts lifting as she does so. “Marco . . .”

“Later.” I meet her eyes.

She nods. “Okay,” she whispers.

I resist the urge to pump a fist into the air.

Okay, let’s get this goddamn party over with.Would it be rude to start kicking guests out? Everyone is having so much fun they could be here until sunrise, for fuck’s sake.

It does turn into a later evening than I wanted. Some people start leaving around nine, but others linger until nearly eleven, and then the only ones here are Beck and Hayden, Cade, and Carrie and me. And some of the staff who are cleaning up.

“Thank you all,” Hayden says, with hugs for Cade, Carrie and then me. “This was such a surprise and so thoughtful of you.”

“It was Marco’s idea,” Carrie says.

Hayden looks between us, her expression going thoughtful.

Uh-oh. What did she see?

Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We just have to get out of here. Soon.

Hayden yawns and links her arms around Beck’s neck, leaning into him. “Take me home, hon. I have an early meeting tomorrow.”

His hands rub up and down her back. “You should have said something. We could have left earlier.”

“But I was having so much fun. It was great meeting your SEAL buddies. And so nice to see Aunt Gina and Uncle Colin out, even if they didn’t stay too long. Aunt Gina seemed tired, but it was nice they came.”

“I’m outta here too,” Cade says. “Don’t forget tomorrow we’re all meeting with Danny and Sid.”

I grimace. “Right.”

Well, I’ll think about that tomorrow. The ongoing frustration of our lackluster food menu isn’t what I want to contemplate just now. I want to contemplate Carrie naked, with my mouth and hands all over her.

I swipe a hand across my forehead and turn to Carrie. We’re alone in the quiet bar, the music stopped, only faint sounds of staff finishing up in the kitchen to be heard.

“Okay,” I say roughly. “It’s later.”

Her smile makes his chest hurt. “It is.”

“Come on. I’m taking you home.”

Carrie

I’m a mass of nerves and lust. The entire evening was a blur, I’m so distracted by Marco and the things he said to me and the way he looked at me, and how my body responded to him.

It feels inevitable, going home with him, as if everything has been leading up to this all along, no matter how much I tried to resist him. No matter how much I told myself we hated each other, that this is a bad idea, that this couldn’t happen.

It is so happening.

The past week I’ve seen him numerous times. We went and talked to Anna Bowes, the owner of Bowes Gallery. Anna was surprised to see two of her clients together. I enjoyed watching Anna and Marco interact, seeing how Anna clearly respects him and his work, how she teased him about wanting more of it, and how he was so self-effacing. Anna was interested in our idea, although noncommittal, agreeing to give it some thought over the next week or so. She also begged both of us for more of our art to sell.

I also saw Marco the evenings I brought Julia to Conquistadors after school, even more charmed by how he treats my niece, with care yet firmness.

“Marco. I have my car here.”

“Shit.” He pauses on the sidewalk. “Okay. I’ll meet you at your place.”

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