Page 97 of Idle

His warm palm covers my cheek, and is greeted by a tear. On a whisper, I murmur, “You’re here.”

“I am.” His thumb captures the moisture, which is replenished. Acting as windshield wipers, he clears my tears as fast as they fall. “I had to come.”

“Why?”

“Because when you realize your life means nothing without the woman who breathed new life into a husk of a man, you have to follow her instructions.”

My eyes meet his. His gorgeous, hazel ones present more khaki than green right now. Followed by his strong jaw, Roman nose, and imminently kissable lips. “You do?”

He nods. “Especially when she prepared a business plan, complete with color coded tabs and fantastic financial projections.” He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a piece of wood surrounded by a stapled document. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to wrap this properly.”

“What is it?”

“Proof. That I want to be here, with you. That I’m all in. That you mean the world to me.” He extends his hand toward me.

With his every statement, my breathing hitches. I remove the document from the figurine and stifle a gasp. He whittled a gorgeous swan. “Thank you. This is beautiful.”

His gaze drops to the wood figurine still in my hand. “Your long neck reminded me of a swan. I thought it was a perfect representation of you. But it’s not the real reason I’m here. Go ahead, read the paperwork.”

I glance from him down to the stapled document. “You did this? For me?”

“For us,” he corrects.

“‘JP’s on Fifth’ is official. You incorporated it.” I skim through the legal notice from the State of New York he printed off the web. “We’re both partners.” My eyes zoom in on the figures. “You gave me fifty-one percent?”

He shrugs. “Seemed only fair. You did the business plan.”

His lips turn up into a delicious smile. I don’t know how to process his amazing gift. I was going to go online and find out how to incorporate this once—if—Jesse agreed to be my business partner. Truth be told, I was hoping for more than a business partnership.

My brain freezes when he pulls me to his warm body and stares deep into my eyes. “I love you, Paige. All of you. Your excitement, your design, your ideas. The way you challenge me, expect me to do better.” He leans closer. “How you come undone for me.”

No amount of windshield wiper thumbs can staunch the tears free falling down my cheeks. It doesn’t matter—his cheeks are equally wet.

All my dreams have come true. “I love you, too, Jesse.”

His eyes close, as if savoring my words. Then he leans forward and our mouths meet. The fact we’re in the middle of Vinnie’s doesn’t stop me. I wrap my arms around his neck and mold my body to his. The hard planes of his body provide a homecoming beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

Clapping. Catcalls. Cheering. Banging of glasses on tables. The noise from outside our bubble pulls us apart, yet none of this matters because Jesse’s back in my world, my arms, my life.

“How about,” he leans down to my ear. “We take this to a more private location?”

Not trusting my voice, I simply nod.

Bending down, I pick up the phone at my feet and he takes my hand. With a wave to the others in the restaurant and a wink to Shelby, he leads me out of Vinnie’s. He hails a cab and soon we’re in his apartment, which is painted white. Sterile. Doesn’t represent this vibrant man in front of me.

Redecorating will be for a different time. Right now, we’re focused on shucking our clothes and kissing each other to within a last gasp. Recriminations from how I treated him during the final round of the show pop into my mind. “I’m so sorry,” I say as he leads me into his bedroom. I take in his white walls and navy sheets—so like Bo and Mary Ellen’s winning primary suite—and vow to change them.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” Naked, he sits on the bed and opens a condom packet. “I shouldn’t have shut you out after the show. The promise to my father to carry on Diana’s legacy has been ingrained in me for fourteen years, not to mention his rule that my career must be set before love. Working through it all was tough.”

I blow into his ear. “But you did it.”

“Marge did.”

My teeth close around the bottom of his lobe. “Come again?”

He smirks. “We will.” His hands guide my equally bare body onto his lap so our bodies touch where they most need to, but not in the way I want. “She supported my dream of becoming a carpenter—even watched the show—and your business plan proved to Homer it’s a lucrative option.” His fingers run through my hair. “Besides, I promised to live out Diana’s dream when I was a kid. Which I no longer am.”

My fingers snake downward encircling his erection and I giggle. “You most certainly are not.” I glide my hand up and down.

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