Page 93 of Crazy In Love
“You mention a date.” She leans closer and presses a feather-soft kiss to the edge of my jaw. “I assumed it was code for sex. You brought me to dinner under the stars,under the stars,by the lake, instead. You cooked a delicious meal, but you sat across from me with white knuckles and worry in your eyes, making it impossible for me to relax. I’m kinda terrified you’re about to drop bad news on my lap.”
“I have no bad news for you.” I lay my palm over her pounding chest, her heart thundering against the tips of my fingers. And when I can’t hold out for a moment longer, I extend my neck and take her lips with mine. “I promise. We’re eating a meal, just like we’ve done a few times already. I live by the lake, and I know you kinda like it out here, so I wanted to give you that instead of the bland four walls of the apartment.”
“Sweet of you.” She side-saddles my lap, crossing one leg over the other so her ass sits squarely on my cock. And because I’m a toxic motherfucker, I still manage to summon a hard dick, even with a broken heart. “It’s really pretty out here. You’re very fortunate to call this viewyours.”
“My view?”You are my view, and I’m terrified I’m fourteen days away from losing it.“Very pretty.” I nibble on her bottom lip and gently pull it between my teeth. “What are you most looking forward to when you get back to New York?”
“Oh, geez.” She pulls back, her eyes burning brighter at the mere mention of the home she loves. It’s not a conscious thing she does. Not a taunting response or something she has to think about.New York makes her happy.“I’m excited to see my apartment again. To see if my hamster, Harold, has survived without me.”
“What?”
“Six weeks is a long time without food or water, but he’s pretty self-sufficient,ya know?”
“Fox! Your hamster is dead.”
“I’m kidding.” She walks her fingers over the top of my ear, tucking the longer strands of hair back. “I don’t have a hamster. Whacky is the closest thing I have to a pet, and he’s a total asshole.”
I glance to the lawn and watch that ugly fucking chicken limp across the grass, pecking every few steps in search of a juicy grub. “Such an asshole.”
“I travel too often to have a pet.” She brings my face back around, smiling when our eyes meet. “And paying someone to come over twice a day to check in on a neglected, lonely little thing is not my idea of a life well spent. Animals deserve owners who spend time with them.”
“Not Whacky, though. He deserves an oven and a little seasoning.”
Her eyes dance with laughter, even if the sound remains trapped in her chest. “I’m looking forward to sleeping in my bed again. Although,” she inches back. “I’ve considered stealing the sheets you bought for the bookstore apartment.”
“You want to steal them?”
“They’re so soft,” she sighs. “It’s not even about the price. I have expensive sheets. I don’t mind spending the money. But it’s like you sourcedthesesheets from the fanciest silkworm on the planet, and if you don’t tell me his name, I might cry.”
“Why would I do that, all so your next boyfriend can enjoy them?”Jesus, Chris. Shut the fuck up.“No chance.”
She snickers. “So I’ll steal the ones at the bookstore, and I’ll come back just often enough to loot your home and take more.”
Sheets are the price of ensuring she returns to Plainview? Sold.
“I’m looking forward to returning to work. My boss, Booker, hinted at something exciting coming up. He said we’d get dinner and discuss it once I’m back.”
“Oh yeah?” Fuck Booker! Fuck his dinner. Fuck what I know is leading to, ‘Six weeks apart proved I can’t breathe without you. Marry me and never leave again.’
Or maybe that’s just me, spinning into absolute fuckery.
“What do you think he wants to discuss?”
“I think… maybe…” She chews on the inside of her lip. “I don’t know if I want to jinx it.” But she giggles and slides her thumb across my too-tense jaw. “It’s possible I’ll shift over to marketing soon.”
“I thought you loved your position as chief clown car organizer?”
Unimpressed, a thick line digs between her brows. But she’s cute as fuck, and bickering is at the bedrock of who we are.
“You’re the one who has been praising that job since you got here. Now you’re telling me you’re excited at the prospect of changing it?”
“Idolove my job. A lot. But I also love marketing, and he knows that. So I wonder if he’s readying to give me experience in both.”
“Double the workload, one salary. Sounds like corporate New York to me.”
Frustrated, she flicks my earlobe. “Double the experience, the same forty-hour work week, smarty pants. It’ll mean juggling both of the things I love and expanding my resume. Meeting new people and stretching my brain in an exciting new direction, all while losing none of the benefits I already enjoy.”
I splay my hand over her chest, studying her collarbones with my fingertips and enjoying the constant thrum of her heart. “I was kidding. It’s obvious you have a knack for making people happy, considering I was out here buying chair cushions and stringing up fairy lights.”
