Page 19 of Kissed and Missed

“No,” I admit, rolling my eyes. “I’m already trying to talk myself out of going home.”

“Go,” he insists with a laugh, “we have time to figure everything out. I’m in no rush. Except on the job, because I do need an answer on that.”

I nod, heart full to bursting. “Do I get to sleep with my boss? Because that’s kind of a dealbreaker for me.”

Julian’s smile widens. “He wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll get an employment contract drawn up tonight. Rest assured, the terms should be more than favorable.”

“Bye.” I giggle, leaning in for one last kiss before stepping back, knowing if I don’t leave now, I never will.

I’m in a daze as I leave the suite, slipping into the elevator with an elderly couple who eye me suspiciously. Judging by the reflection of myself I see in the doors, it’s due to the wild sex hair and the flush coloring my cheeks

He flew across the country to be with me. I really, really thought it would never happen,but it did. Julian was brave and threw caution to the wind because of me. He’s disregarding Riley’s feelings about the situation and choosing to put us first.

It’s faintly ridiculous how invested in this relationship I already am, how badly I want it to work.

The elevator doors slide open, and the elderly couple allows me out first. I practically float across the lobby, smiling at the same sour-faced man at the desk and savoring the ache between my legs, a reminder of the life-changing sex I just experienced. With Julian. I fucked Julian.

Almost giddy, I push open The Witt’s glass door, not even minding the blast of wintery air that slams me the moment I’m through it.

My first hint that something is wrong, is the small group of women waiting beside a car, just past the lobby doors. All of them are holding cell phones, and I falter as they elbow each other significantly, lifting them to record me passing.

Um.What?

Keeping my head down, I hurry past. My car is just a block away, and whateverthatwas, probably wasn’t for me at all. Weston University is close by, they’re probably film students or, or… something.

“Honor!” an unfamiliar voice calls my name, and I realize I’ve walked headlong into another group, this one holding much more professional looking cameras and microphones. There’s a light shining right at me as I still, staring at them like a deer in headlights.

“Do you have a comment on your relationship with Julian Ballard?”

“Honor! Did you break up with Riley for her father?”

“Honor! Over here, honey! Is it true you’re pregnant?”

“Julian Ballard’s ex-wife is on record calling you a whore, is there anything you’d like to say to her?”

My breath is coming in uneven, shaky pants as I step back automatically, trying to distance myself from the group of reporters. No. No. No. This isn’t happening. How could anyone have found out? We’ve been together for six hours, and alone forallof them.

I wrack my brain, trying to think of what to do, of what to say, and come up blank. What are you even supposed to do in a situation like this? Fight-or-flight? Fight-or-flight? I’m just standing there, frozen, trying to decide, when a familiar large man appears at my side. “Honor. Let’s go,” Grey barks, wrapping an arm around my stiff shoulders and wheeling me around.

Flashes are going off, people are yelling, and he’s barely gotten me back inside the hotel before I start to cry.

11

JULIAN

SIX WEEKS AGO

For a man accustomed to being alone, It’s been surprisingly easy to get used to having someone else in my house.

Technically, there is always support staff or security on site, but this is different.

None of them are my daughter’s inconveniently attractive ex-girlfriend. Not just attractive, either. If she were only beautiful, I wouldn’t have spent so much time over the last day or so thinking about Honor Vogel. Beautiful women aren’t uncommon, but I can’t remember the last time I wanted to be around someone like this.

Even now, standing in the living room, which is lit only by the first, hazy, bluish light of sunrise, my heart lifts at each perceived sound in the house. Every little creak or rustle, the thump of the air conditioning or caw of a seagull outside on the beach has me glancing over my shoulder in hopeful anticipation.

It’s barely five in the morning, and she just came from another time zone. I shouldn’t expect to see her for hours, and the fact I’m hoping to is just one more concern to add to thegrowing list where Honor Vogel is concerned. She could have ended up my daughter-in-law for fuck’s sake.

Warning bells are going off in my mind. I have no business thinking this way. I can’t be looking for ways to spend time with her, or things to say that might get her talking. She’s my kid’s ex, and, for all I know, not attracted to men. Riley is bisexual, but obviously, that doesn’t mean Honor is.

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