Page 21 of Lucky in Love
“Thanks,” I throw over my shoulder as I hurry over to the bank of elevators, eager to get going now that I’m here. I stab the call button and wait impatiently for the thing to arrive. Just as I’m reaching out to jab the button once more, the muted ding announces its arrival.
I find myself standing at Agatha’s door, suddenly unsure of my reception and second-guessing my idea. Hesitating, I stand staring at her door for a long moment. Without warning, it opens and abruptly it feels as if all the air in the hallway has been sucked out.
Damn. Sleepy-eyed and barefoot, the woman is more beautiful than I remember. Her hair, once again, up in the messy bun and in the casualwear she seems to favor, Agatha is a balm for my battle-weary soul.
“Jessen, hi.”
I can’t decide if her slightly breathless greeting is because she’s been rushing or if she’s as happy to see me as I am her. Whatever it is though, I can’t help but wonder if that’s what she’d sound like if I kissed her.
“Hey.”
We stand there just taking each other in, not saying a word when her eyes open wide, and she slaps a palm against her forehead.
“Oh my god, how rude.” She steps back and opens her front door wider. “Please, come in.”
Grinning, I brush past her and into the apartment. Agatha closes up behind me and follows me into the living room, a little frown creasing her brow.
And just like that, my uncertainty of minutes ago vanishes. “I know this is unexpected, but I don’t have your number, and I have an important question to ask you. So, here I am. In the flesh.”
She continues to frown at me. “Oo-kay. Be warned though, I’ve not had my first coffee of the day, and I’ve been working for a half hour already. That makes me grumpy, so don’t take it personally.”
“Duly noted.” I grin, feeling light and carefree for the first time in six weeks.
“Can I offer you some coffee?” she asks.
“No, thanks.”
“Well, I need some.” She pivots toward the kitchen, asking over her shoulder, “So what’s the important question that required a trip over here?”
“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to invite you to have breakfast with me.”
Agatha stops mid-step, turning to face me. “I – you want to have breakfast with me?”
“Yep. I do.” I’m not sure how to read her reaction, and it has my stomach sinking that she might not actuallywantto spend the time with me.
The thought has barely formed when she surprises me. Yet again.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Scintillating conversation,” I tease. “As an award-winning author, I would have thought you had a wider vocabulary.”
At first, she appears offended, but then she bursts into peals of laughter, and I feel my world shift. There’s no denying Agatha is a beautiful woman, but in this moment she’s more than that. I’m transfixed by her radiance. When she finally catches her breath, mischief shines bright in her eyes.
“You know I’m an award-winning author?”
I’m a little taken aback by the change in conversation but roll with it. “Yep. I looked you up on the internet when the order came down to help you with the research.”
“Ah. Makes sense. Know thy enemy.”
This time it’s my turn to find humor in her answer. “I’m a SEAL. I have a reputation to uphold, don’t you know?”
