Page 77 of Valentine Nook
My breath labors, my chest heaves, and I’m about to have the first non-battery-powered orgasm in forever when there’s pounding on the door. Lando immediately jumps back.
“If they work for me, they’re getting fired,” he snarls.
Even though the tight pants are holding it down, the bulge of his dick is impressive. And I’m still staring at it when there’s another knock.
“Holiday,” Lando croaks and clears his throat. When I look up, there’s an infuriatingly wide grin on his face. “Are you going to get that?”
Easing off the counter, I glance down at my crumpled pajama shorts and the T-shirt from my brother’s baseball team, then make a poor attempt to straighten it and re-tie my hair. By the time I reach the front door, I’ve also thrown on my raincoat, which was hanging up.
I find a FedEx guy who shoves a box at me, followed by a form to sign, then takes off without a second glance, for which I’m grateful.
Lando’s standing at the patio doors, like he needs to keep a safe distance, though I take great pride in how mussed up his hair is.
Tossing the package down, I pick up the roses and take a deep inhale. “They’re stunning.”
“From my mother actually.”
I blink in surprise. “Your mom is so sweet.”
“Oh yes. A real treat.” He laughs.
“You don’t get along?” I call back as I fetch the last vase I used for roses and fill it with water.
“We do . . . of course, she’s my mother, and I love her. But also,she’s my mother.”
I laugh because I know exactly what he means.
“However, I didn’t come empty-handed. You’ll have to come outside to see it, though.”
“Outside?”
“Yes. Your surprise.” It only takes four large strides, and he’s in front of me again. This time, when he bends to kiss me, hislips brush against my cheek, keeping it chaste. “Go and get changed, and I’ll show you.”
I turn to head back upstairs, only to hesitate. My mind rewinds the last twenty minutes to the reason I was so flustered in the first place.
“What’s wrong?”
Spinning around, Lando’s looking at me curiously.
“Um . . . I need to tell you something. My assistant called this morning. There’s a photo of us getting into your car yesterday. I’ve seen it, and it’s no big deal. I thought you should know. My photo gets taken sometimes. There were questions?—”
When he steps up and takes hold of my shoulders, I realize I’ve been babbling.
“I already know.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I was going to tell you, but you fell down the stairs. We have a media team, which is mostly kept busy with whatever Miles has done, but sometimes my photo gets taken too. I rarely pay attention and I never comment. We’re getting into a car. It’s not that interesting.”
I blink. The relief’s immediate, and so is the surprise. I’d expected him to be pissed at the bare minimum, but it’s refreshing, to say the least, that he barely cares.
“Now go and get dressed.”
When I see what’s waiting for me fifteen minutes later, it’s mission accomplished. I am surprised.
Thunder and a smaller brown-colored horse are tied to the fence in the field opposite the gate.
“What’s this?”
