Page 26 of Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge

“How do I get one of those?” she asks as she walks back to the door.

“By actually making yourself available,” I tell her. “You’re too focused on work. Or I should introduce you to Violet. She’s on a special website.” I wink.

“Oh! Intriguing. I’ll buy you a coffee at lunchtime and you can tell me more.”

“Deal.” I wait for her to leave before opening the small card nestled among the roses.

Follow your dreams. Life’s too short for regrets. - Rx

My heart skips. I run my fingers over the expensive leather case filled with professional grade supplies. The kind I could never justify buying myself.

Two days without contact and then this?

He continues to surprise me. I expected him to demand daily meetings, to exercise his “ownership” over these four weeks. Instead, he’s measured, controlled. Yet, it drives me crazy not knowing when I’ll see him next.

One week is over already. The thought should bring a sense of relief. Instead, it brings disappointment.

My computer chimes with a new email notification. I click over to see an alert from my student loan servicer. My eyes widen at the payment amount. He’s cleared twenty-five percent of my debt. And just like that, the weight lifts from my shoulders.

My phone buzzes on my desk.

R: Tonight at nine. Wear something comfy.

I bite my lip, already imagining what he has planned. Something about his simple command makes my skin tingle with need.

The car turns off the main road and into The Gables. My pulse quickens as I duck when we drive past my parents’ home.

I thought we’d only do this at Club X, never at his home.

Wrought-iron gates open and we travel up a curved driveway to a sprawling mansion. Light spills from the windows onto manicured lawns.

“We’re here, Miss,” his driver says, opening my door as the front door opens.

My breath catches.

Ronan stands there only wearing faded jeans that hang low on his hips. His chest is wide and has a small smattering of hair. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his athletic build, the defined muscles, the light dusting of dark hair trailing down to—

“Come.” He holds out his hand and guides me inside to a formal dining room.

A cathedral candle flickers off the crystal champagne flutes on a table set for two.

My gaze roams to the covered silver serving dish, steam rising from it.

“Did you cook?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

“I did.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Surprised?”

“Apart from my mother, no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

“I want to do lots of firsts for you.” His voice drops lower, sending shivers down my spine.

“Well, being bought is certainly a first,” I say, trying to lighten the moment.

“See it as a mutually agreeable situation, Lucia.” He pulls out my chair. “Sit. You’ll need your energy.”

***“I’m surprised how little we’ve touched each other since this started,” I say after dinner as I swirl the last of my champagne, feeling a little giddy not only from the alcohol but also from being under his gaze for the entire meal.

“That ends tonight.” He stands and steps closer, his thumb ghosting across my cheek with surprising gentleness.

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