Page 46 of Legal

I asked you before that. You just didn’t answer. But now you have me fantasizing about your orgasms. After dinner I promise to give you the best one of your life.

I closed my eyes and blew out a hard puff of breath. He already had. Chase was going to make it really difficult for me to concentrate on work for the rest of the day.

We can just skip all that and go straight to the after.

He didn’t respond right away, so my hopes were high that he’d agreed. Five minutes later, I got a simple:No.

Dammit.I’d rather you just come over again, Chase. I can cook this time. I really don’t have anything to wear out.

Okay, that sounded like a lame excuse, but there was truth to it. My stuff was either casual or fancy with not a whole lot in between. And I was not wearing one of Perry’s outfits that could double as a paper doll cutout.

You already gave me that excuse. Sorry, not gonna work.

What? When?

You’re cute when you talk in your sleep. Informative too.

My entire face torched up.What the hell is he talking about? This could be bad, really bad.He was bluffing, had to be. Trying to rile me. But I did mention my lack of clothing choices and my broken air conditioner with no recollection. Oh, shit! What else did I say?

Get back to work. And rest up, Wild Horses.

Wild Horses? I must have glared at my phone for fifteen minutes before shoving it into the desk drawer. I didn’t reply, and he didn’t send anything else. I could waste the whole day thinking about my runaway mouth, but the only place that would lead me would be into a hole. I’d be better off lazing on my back porch and watching the wildlife again.

I gave my phone some company and teamed it up with the Lunacy Sauce, joining them together in the drawer. I had a business to run, and I was not going to allow Chase to distract me any longer.

No matter how delicious I imagined his sauce to be.

The rest of the week went by smoothly and uneventfully. I didn’t hear another peep from Chase, and since we hadn’t nailed down a time for Saturday, I started to believe he’d had a change of heart.

Until Friday.

On Friday, I began my pre-work day with the usual routine: Up early, shower, coffee run (since my machine was still on the fritz), and a front porch check. I was hoping he’d send more ingredients. I really, really wanted that recipe.

There was indeed a package on my porch that morning, but it was not what I was expecting. Instead of being a small, brown box, it reminded me of something that Daniel would jump up and down for, thinking Barney had left him a present. It was big and purple.

I carried it inside and shook it, of course, but there was awhooshthis time instead of aclunk. Maybe he’d written down the entire recipe on a good old-fashioned index card and buried it within mounds of paper, just to be sneaky. He was good at that.

I sliced open the sides and popped the top off. There was a note inside, sitting on top of tissue paper.

No excuses. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7:00.

I’d worry about that later. I tossed the card on the table, then waded through gobs of crepe paper. There was lots of it, like he’d saved every last bit from birthdays and Christmases and stuffed it all inside. I rummaged through the layers until a sliver of lavender caught my eye.

I paused for a minute. This couldn’t be what I thought it was. No way. My hands went back in and pulled out a gorgeous lavender sundress. Drop neck. High-low hem. Flirty as hell. I think I glazed over for a bit and went completely blank. I put the dress back in the box, pulled it out, put it back. To say I was confused was stating it mildly.

Number One: Why couldn’t it have been slutty lingerie instead? That would have been more appropriate.

Number Two: How in the name of all that’s good and decent did Chase know I was coveting this very same dress? How could he have possibly picked out the exact same one I was swooning over? No one is that good.

Perry.

Steam blowing out of the ears was not just for cartoons. There was a fireball sitting on top of my shoulders. Fortunately, my phone leaped into my hand and dialed for me, which was handy since my eyes were smoked out.

Goddammit, Perry. You promised.

“Hello.”

My brother’s groggy voice threw me off. “Shit, Stephen. I’m sorry. I’m trying to reach Perry.”

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