Page 42 of Enticing the Fixer

“Thank you.” She rubs her fingertips over my nipple ring, almost like she doesn’t notice she’s doing it. “We stayed together for five years but grew more distant every year. The last year, I pushed him to start a family, but he said it wasn’t good timing because his job wasn’t steady enough.” Her jaw tightens. “That was his bullshit way of playing on my sense of responsibility while he knocked up a girl he worked with at the gym.”

I cup her cheek and tilt her head upward. “What if he did you a favor by falling for someone else?” I brush my lips against hers, and she melts into me.

Our breathing is slow and steady as we leisurely explore each other’s mouths. Soft sweet lips. A tongue that tastes like peppermint and the promise of so much more.

She pulls back and licks her lips. “What if I’m too old to have kids? I’m 35 years old, and women’s eggs start to deteriorate at age 30.”

“Sweetheart, when there’s a will, there’s a way.” We’re sticking with hypothetical situations, right? My heart skips a beat. If she says she wants to have a baby, with me, then what? “If you want a baby, you’ll have one. There are tons of options available if there’s a problem.”

My breath catches in my throat. This is taking my fix-it compulsion to the extreme. But if she wants a baby, she’ll have one. Preferably naturally, because…. Well, that’s self-explanatory. I crave her in a completely unhealthy way.

I’m totally fucked. When we started this conversation downstairs, I was keeping it light, but I’ve bought my own spiel. I want, no, I need to fix any problem that comes her way.

Is this love? I swallow. No. That’s not possible. I like helping people. I want to be the go-to person when someone needs something. That’s all it is.

If you need an orange grove in California, I know someone with one for sale. It’s what I do. Connect people. Troubleshoot for people. Make deals. Study deals. It’s the least I can do. Otherwise, I’m wasting my photographic memory.

It’s too soon to be in love.

She sits up and puts some distance between us by scooting toward the opposite arm of the sofa. “What’s your story? Why aren’t you married?”

I lean forward and grab a loaded potato skin from the platter. “Too busy. I went to college and….” If I tell her I have a law degree and started a business, a bunch of businesses, there won’t be a good reason for why I’m working for Truman.

Lying will bite me in the ass, but I promised the guys we’d lay low. Telling someone who I am one week after moving is not laying low.

“I started working. A lot of hours. I still work a lot of hours. The last woman I dated was a social media influencer. We got along because we were both busy until she used me to increase her following.”

Her eyes narrow as if she’s ready to go to battle for me. And I like it. “That sucks.”

“Thank you. It did.” I stick the potato in front of her mouth. She groans and bites into it.

Afterward she swallows, she shivers. “That’s so good. I’m starving. I didn’t eat lunch today, and breakfast was a granola bar.”

“You need to eat better than that.”

She grabs the potato and bites into the chives, sour cream, cheese, and bacon-topped potato skin. “This is so good.”

With every moan of approval, my cock begs for a dollop of sour cream and her mouth. “I broke up with her when I found out she was using me, and I haven’t had any interest in dating anyone since then.”

She tilts her head. “Now, or then?”

“Then….” I drag her on top of me until her legs straddle me with her knees on either side of my hips.

She runs her hands through my hair with her nails digging into my skull as she grinds her sex into my cock. “I don’t do this.”

“Yeah, me, either.”

Her eyes twinkle as she bites her bottom lip. “But I’m going to.”

“Yeah, me, too.” I clasp the back of her head and pull her down to me. I’m going to do it all. Repeatedly.

Chapter Nineteen

Kinsley

As he pulls the tail of my shirt out of my waistband, I stare into his eyes and shudder. The intensity with which he studies me is overwhelming and amazing. No one has ever looked at me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Even if it’s just for now.

I’m not crazy. We’ve just met, and no handbook says if you do steps 1–3 in the perfect sequence, everything will work out between us. That we’ll get married, have two children, and live happily ever after.

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