Page 8 of A Toast for Laurent

The boy surfaced, wanting to wrap his arms around her, but the man I was now shoved him down. I didn’t want to wrap her in my arms. I wanted to strip her bare and pound into her until she screamed my name.

Heat spread up my neck as I took Laurent in. He was definitely no longer that twenty-two-year-old guy I left behind all those years ago. No, he was a full-blown man who filled out a suit as if he walked off a runaway. My breath caught in my throat. The gray suit and light blue shirt made his eyes pop, and under the warm lights of the lobby, he practically glowed.

“Laurent,” I managed, keeping my tone professional as Lewis at the front desk watched. The boy was the age Laurent was when I last saw him. Except unlike Laurent, Lewis was lanky, barely filling out his polo shirt, and his skin was dotted with acne. He was a nice boy, but his nervous energy could suffocate a person. I flashed a smile. “Thank you, Lewis.”

“Y-Yes, m-ma’am,” he stuttered. “Of course. Y-You’re welcome.”

My gaze went back to Laurent, a smirk on his face and amusement in his irises.

“Follow me,” I said, spinning around before I started undressing him with my eyes. I didn’t bother to see if he was behind me. I didn’t need to. I could feel him. His presence was all-encompassing, filling my senses and making me perfectly aware how close he was.

His woodsy citrus scent engulfed me as I came to a stop at my office door and turned to him. He was right there, mere inches away from colliding with me. Part of me wished he did collide with me. It would have given me an excuse to touch him, to savor that scent up close and personal.

“This is me.” I waved my hand toward my office. His gaze held mine as he made his way past me. With a deep breath, I headed in.

My office was temporary and lacked any personal touches. It was a decent size, or so I had thought, until Laurent Grasso sat in the single chair on the other side of my desk. His large thighs engulfed the seat, his shoulders completely hiding the wide back. God, he had filled out in all the right places. I bit my lip, my eyes trained on those thighs.

Visions of my ass rocking against them, my arms around his neck, mouth on his, moving to our own beat, filled my mind.

“Phoebe?” he said, knocking me out of my fantasies.

“Yes, sorry. Thank you for meeting with me.”

“How long have you been here?” He looked around the—okay, fine, it was small—office.

“A month.”

His eyebrows shot toward his uncreased forehead. Seriously, how did he make it to forty without a single crease there? His dark hair was combed away from his face, but not slicked. It had movement, showing a little of his natural wave.

“A month?” he repeated.

“Yes, why?”

“If it weren’t for the papers on the desk, I’d think this office has been unoccupied for longer than that. Also, a little surprised you’ve been in my town for a month, and I have yet to run into you.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear, avoiding his too sexy gaze. “I haven’t left the lodge.”

“You’ve been here a month and haven’t left?”

“Okay, you know what? You’re not here to judge my life.”

“Who said I was judging? I’m wondering why you’ve been cooped up here.” He leaned forward, closing the space between him and my desk. “Afraid you were going to bump into me?”

“Why would I care if I bumped into you?”

“You tell me.”

Because I wouldn’t know what to say. Because after eighteen years, I still regretted how I left things. I wished I could manipulate time and force the clocks back, so I could redo that last night and morning all over again. Because eighteen years ago, I realized I had fallen in love with you, and it scared me so badly I ran. Because I was and still am a coward.

I waved a hand at him. “Like I said, I wouldn’t have cared. I just have been busy, and the lodge has everything I need. Three restaurants, a bar, all the toiletries I could use, laundry service, a coffee shop, and trails all across the property. I’m set here.”

Laurent pushed from the chair, his frame even more intimidating from my angle in my chair.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Let’s go.”

“Where are we going? We haven’t even discussed a single thing for why we’re here.”

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