Page 28 of Kissed and Missed

Of course he did.

I wince at the thought of how much this casual date cost. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have cooked for you. There’s a kitchen in the suite we haven’t even touched.”

With a slight smile, Julian flips open his menu. “I would like that very much, I still think about some of the things you made me in California. Some other time, though. For now, I’m afraid you’ll have to tolerate me spoiling you.”

His words, while so sweet, kind of make me want to cry. Nobody has ever treated me like this, or so unapologeticallyliked me. Every relationship I’ve ever had, I was the one making an effort to connect. Now, this literal dream man is doing everything in his power to show me he cares about me, and I’m the one holding him at arm’s length.

“Okay,” I say at last, my throat tight as I reach across the table to take his hand. “I just don’t want you to think you have to do things like this for me to want you.”

Julian lifts my hand to his lips, kissing the back sweetly. “I do know that,” he promises with a reassuring smile as we lace our fingers together atop the table. “Which makes me want to spoil you all the more, I’m afraid. It’s a burden you’ll have to bear.”

I let out a shaky laugh, gazing at him as I ask a question that’s been on my mind. “Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Of course you can.”

“Why haven’t you been with someone for so long?”

For the first time since we sat down, Julian’s eyes drop from my face. He stares at our intertwined fingers, looking slightly embarrassed. “Riley’s mother and I were very young when we got married. Both of us came from conservative families, and having a child out of wedlock was out of the question. It was never a happy marriage, and when it looked like my first business was going to fail, she wanted off the sinking ship.” He shakes his head with a dark laugh, finally looking back up at me. “Well, to make a long story short, the ship didn’t sink, and she felt as though she was cheated out of her share of my success.”

I’ve heard this story before, though through a very different lens. Even when she cheated on me, I couldn’t truly hate Riley, especially when my feelings for Julian grew so quickly from the rubble of my former relationship. Now, though, I’m furious with her for buying into her mother’s bitterness and greed.

“I was single for a few years after that. Well, I dated, but nothing serious,” he continues, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “By the time I met someone, I had become fairly successful. A lot of money was coming in, and I knew to be cautious. Even so, she seemed genuine.”

Movement to my right has me looking around to find a black-shirted waiter moving toward us, notebook in hand. “Will you give us a moment?” I ask gently and turn my gaze back to Julian when he departs immediately. “She wasn’t, though?”

He shakes his head with an embarrassed sort of smile. “Money has played a very large role in every relationship I’ve had, romantic or otherwise. After a while, it felt easier to be alone. Until you.”

Until me.

Suddenly, the few feet of table between us feels downright unbearable. Without a word, I let go of Julian’s hand and scoot around the booth to his side, wrapping my arms around him the best I can in the tight space. He fits me beneath his arm, holding me close, and my eyes squeeze shut as I feel his lips meet the crown of my hair.

The scent of his skin, the lines of his body, and the way I fit against him, all of it feels so familiar. It’s like we’ve done this hundreds of times for hundreds of days. Never have I spent much time wondering about things like fate, but I do now. I wonder if this—us—was always meant to happen, and finally I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

Falling in love with him.

17

JULIAN

SIX WEEKS AGO

Honor is talking on the phone, as she has been for over an hour. I can see her clearly from my place in the living room, sitting on the back deck, her long legs stretched out on the lounger. Since she went outside to take her call, I’ve seen her go from confused to worried to shocked and now, inexplicably, sorrowful.

She lifts her hand to wipe tears from her cheeks and, so quickly I don’t have time to look away, turns toward me. Our eyes meet through the glass door, and drop just as quickly, pretending nothing is amiss. We’ve been doing a lot of pretending over the last few days, but I, I’m the worst of us.

I pretend she doesn’t make my heart beat faster just by entering the room.

I pretend I haven’t just spent more time in this house over the last three days than the entire time I’ve owned it.

I pretend I didn’t finally give in and fist my cock last night, making myself come to thoughts of Honor on her knees for me.

She goes home tomorrow, and already I’m dreading the cold stillness of my life without her in it. Likely, I’ll go back to the downtown penthouse I favor for its convenience. I will go to work, I will come home, attend industry events and shareholder meetings. Nothing will be different, except these three days spent in a suspended reality, falling for a woman I shouldn’t want, but do.

A solution has been floating in the periphery of my imagination since our talk about her work yesterday. There’s a way to keep her here and in my life.

I’ve been keeping The Ballard Foundation on ice, waiting until I’d separated myself enough from my business dealings to manage it myself. What if I didn’t, though? Would it be so insane to entrust my vision to someone else until I can be as involved as I’d like to?

What if that person was Honor?

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