Page 131 of Lavish
Turning off the exit, I looked at the blinking arrow on my GPS.Really?
I pulled into the small gravel lot. It was nothing like the King parties or the rooftop lounges. It was a small brick building with fogged windows and soft light seeping through. A jazz club.
It’d been one of Dante’s economic development ideas these past few months to bring in new business to Lush.
When was Miles hanging out at jazz clubs?
I stepped out of the car, the wind cool against my arms, and walked in.
The sound hit first—slow jazz, sultry and rich, melting into the air like honey. The room was dim but golden, like something paused in time.
And then I saw him.
Miles.
“A jazz club?”
“Surprised?” He looked down at me. “How did your meeting go?”
Right… My meeting.
“Uneventful. We don’t have to worry about the protestors anymore,” I said quickly, looking around.
“We are almost at our two-month anniversary, and we haven’t had a date night, so I thought this would be the perfect place.”
I raised a brow. “You’re planning dates? Who’s gotten domestic?”
“We can go,” he said, and I rolled my eyes at him, pushing him. “But I wanted to take my wife out for a special night, just us and no work.”
“Or your cat.”
“You love Doughboy, don’t deny it.”
Hmm… The cat wasn’t theworstthing in my life. He provided some company, but not much.
“Dance with me.”
“Miles—”
“Just one song,” he said.
I hesitated, but then slipped my fingers into his.
He smiled, that soft kind of smile that always made me want to believe him. He led me toward the dance floor, weaving us past small round tables dressed in white linen and gold candles. The club was low-lit and warm, every surface bathed in amber and burgundy. Exposed brick, wood-beamed ceilings, and a jazz band tucked into the corner, their music curling into the air like a secret.
The saxophone wailed a rich, aching solo that melted right into my chest. Around us, couples swayed—slow, effortless movements, like the world outside didn’t exist.
I swallowed as he turned to me. His hands found my waist, and mine slid up over his shoulders on instinct. Being this close still disarmed me. Still made everything feel softer, hazier.
He pulled me gently into the music, guiding us through the rhythm like he already knew where we were going.
We moved in slow circles, his touch steady, grounding.
And then I did what I always did—I tried to take control, shifting our pace just slightly.
Miles leaned in, mouth brushing my ear. “You need to let me lead.”
The heat from his breath scattered down my spine. I looked up at him.
