Page 75 of Hold You Close
When she surfaces, I applaud and yell, “Great job!”
Ian is still looking at me. “Tell me what happened today.”
I wave a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. My boss was being kind of shitty, but I’m used to it.”
“Shitty how?” He’s frowning, and his chest is puffed up like he might want to go kick my boss’s ass. “Did he say something to you? Or harass you in some way?”
“No, no. It was nothing like that.” I shake my head. “You know what, it was nothing at all. Just a bad day. I feel better now that I’m here.”
“Good. Can I get you a glass of wine?”
A genuine smile stretches my lips. “What doesthisexpression say?”
“It says, ‘Ian Chase is a fucking god among men.’”
I roll my eyes. “Good Lord, your ego is massive.”
He smirks. “Almost as big as my—”
“Uncle Ian! Aunt London!” Ruby yells from the diving board just as I put a hand over Ian’s mouth so the kids don’t hear him brag about his dick.
Laughing, he grabs my wrist and turns me toward the pool, embracing me from behind. “We’re watching, Rubes!”
She takes a deep breath and runs off the end of the board, doing a little ballerina twirl in the air before landing in the water. “Beautiful!” I call out when she comes up. “Very graceful.”
Ian kisses my temple. “Be right back.”
I miss his arms around me as soon as they’re gone.
Seventeen
Ian
In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of white wine from the fridge, pull the corkscrew from a drawer, and open it up.
Mondays are currently my favorite day of the week. The club is closed, and while I used to go in anyway to do paperwork and inventory, now that the kids live with me, I don’t. Instead, I trained Toby to do inventory, and assigned the paperwork to Drea. I wish there were other nights I could blow off the club completely, but as good as Toby and Drea are getting, most nights I’ve had to at least put in an appearance.
London has stepped up for me every time. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
As I pour two glasses of chenin blanc, I wonder what happened with London’s boss at work. Something tells me it wasn’t just a bad day—London isn’t easily flustered, especially when it comes to her job. Maybe later, after we got the kids to bed, I’ll ask her about it again.
I put the wine bottle back in the fridge and head outside. “Here you go,” I say as I hand her the glass.
“Thanks.”
“Well, we all know how you love your wine,” I joke.
London rolls her eyes. “I love you when I have wine, so I guess that explains why you keep bringing me alcohol.”
Please, she loves me drunk, sober, and when I’m buried between her legs. “The lies you tell yourself.”
“You think I love you?” she challenges.
“I know you do.”
London pulls her head back. “Really?”
Fuck yeah, I do. I see the way she looks at me. I know she rushes over here for just one more minute together. There’s not much that either of us do right now that would dispute the fact that we’re both falling—hard.
