Page 18 of A Merry Penthouse Christmas
I yank open the second drawer and find—
“Beau? You still there?”
Plugs.
Rings.
Dildos.
I slam the drawer shut again.
“Hello?”
I can’t think. But I can’t just leave the one I turned on to… vibrate. Arik will assume I did it. And I did!
I quickly reopen the drawer, find the button, turn it off—after going through five freaking settings of speed and intensity—and slam the drawer shut yet again.
“Beau—”
“I need to go.”
“But—”
“Later. Okay? Later.” I hang up, knowing full well Bellamy will call back tonight.
I have to nip this in the bud. Figuratively! But I have to.
I have to.
Or this crush might ruin me.
ARIK
Ispookedhim.Iknew it was a gamble to kiss him like that, but seeing the panic on Beau’s face when his ex was on approach, how could I not help him give her the heart attack she deserved? Clara surprised me with fatherhood, but I can’t imagine having been prepared and excited for it only to be gutted by the rug being pulled out from under me.
Beau also kissed me back.
Both times.
When he returns from using laundry as an excuse to avoid me—and his brother’s call being quite timely—he is even more red in the face than when we got back from the park. Bastian is beingfussy enough while eating, with Beau continuing to find excuses to avoid looking at me, that I don’t get the chance to confront him about what happened until it’s too late.
Bastian goes down for his nap—and I get a call that pulls me into work.
I am decidedly distracted, up alone in my office for hours, knowing the object of my growing obsession is fluttering around downstairs as a constant temptation. Beau is not straight, he is not immune to my advances, and while he might be trying to resist me, I don’t thinkIcan resist anymore.
Calling Rowan or Sandra or Kevin or any number of other partners I keep on standby doesn’t carry the same appeal when a much more tantalizing option is living under my roof. I can’t even quantify why Beau is so different from others I’ve been with. Sure, he’s handsome and charming and intelligent. He’s skilled but unassuming about his talents. Down to earth enough to be a little awed by my wealth, yet he doesn’t let it intimidate him enough to treat me like I’m out of his league.
He also obviously isn’t turned off by me being a father. He is so good with Bastian that he feels like a natural fixture to the house, even only a month into our arrangement. No one has ever blown into my life like that and upset the balance in so short a time—other than Bastian himself.
It’s late by the time I extricate myself from my office. More of Gabby’s Thanksgiving leftovers are waiting for me in the fridge—including a final slice of pie with an added note from Beau:
For the PSL.
I eat before realizing how quiet the penthouse has become and venture cautiously into the nursery. I find Beau there, asleep in the rocker, with Bastian swaddled tight, dozing in his arms.
Who knew domesticity could be so alluring? But how do I proceed? He clearly needed distance tonight, too on edge, too uncertain after our kisses. But I’m not willing to let those impromptu lip-locks be our last.
Skylar would be no help in this area. Clara either. Bosom buddies are not a luxury for someone as busy as I am, which leaves very few options for confidants.
