I can’t hold in a laugh. “I have my moments.”
His hand jumps up to cradle my chin. “You need to go to her now. From what I gathered, there’s some sort of kitten emergency.”
“Olive believes there is.” I sigh. “Today it’s a kitten she wants. Last week it was a hamster. Such is life with a seven-year-old.”
“Seven?” Holden tilts my chin up. “That seems like a fun age.”
“Tell that to my heart.” I pat the center of my chest. “She’s growing up too fast for my liking.”
Studying me carefully, he leans forward to kiss my cheek. “You’re even more remarkable than I thought you were, Greer.”
“Because I’m a mom?”
“Because you’re you.”
He kisses me again, but it’s on my lips this time. It’s tender and soft, and if it’s meant to make my toes curl in my shoes, it hit the mark.
“Do you want me to order you a rideshare?” He motions to where his phone is sitting on the same table mine was. “Do you live far from here?”
We’re currently in Tribeca, so I nod. “I live on the Upper East Side, but at this time of day, the subway will get me there easiest and quickly.”
Nodding, he opens his mouth as though he’s about to say something but then slams it shut.
I grin. “What is it, Holden?”
“I may be far off base here, but I can’t help but wonder if your refusal to sell Sweet Indulgence isn’t all about how much you hate me.”
My head falls back in laughter as I playfully punch his bicep. “I don’t hate you.”
“You hate the fact I’m trying to buy you out.” He kisses my cheek again. “You love the sex.”
“I really like the sex.” I make that subtle correction because the actual L word has no business in any discussion involving the two of us.
“In that case, it’s a hard like. “
I drop my gaze to the front of his open jeans. “About that… you should zip up.”
He does, chuckling the entire time. “We’ll pick this up soon?”
“Will we?” I question.
“We will,” he answers. “We both want it.”
I should point out that want and need are two very different things, and although I want desperately to be fucked by him again, I’m not sure I need it because it comes with a host of complications that have far-reaching impacts on my business.
“I need to go,” I say, taking the easy way out.
“I know.” He grips my arms in both hands. “Give me your number, Greer.”
Seconds pass as I contemplate the ramifications of that.
“You’re overthinking it.” He laughs. “I promise I won’t send you a thousand texts a day or call you telling you how much I miss you.”
“In that case, I’ll text you by the end of the day today so you have my number.”
He eyes me skeptically. “You’ll need my number to do that.”
“I have it.” I try to gently pull away from him. “Krista gave it to me a few days ago. She gave me your brother’s number, too.”