Anthony: Signature Sweethearts Book Seven

by Rae, Kelsie

  Best. Surprise. Ever.

  * * *

  When the door vibrates with a powerful knock, I find myself almost skipping over to it as excitement pulses through me.

  “Hi,” I say, smiling shamelessly before the door has even fully opened.

  He smirks while giving me a casual once over with his eyes. “Hey. You ready to go?”

  “Pretty much. I just need to grab my toothbrush and bag, then I’ll be good to go.”

  “Alright, while you’re doing that, I’m going to go say hi to Jasper and Clover. Meet you in the car in five?”

  Seriously, could he be any cuter?

  “Deal.”

  Rushing back to my room, I shove my pink toothbrush into a Ziploc bag then toss it into my duffle before sauntering to the front door only to drop off my bag and sneak down the stairs out of curiosity. It’s the little moments when Anthony thinks he’s all alone that I’ve learned the most about him. When his guard is completely down, and he’s just Anthony.

  Creeping down the steps, I keep my heels in the air and balance on the balls of my feet to prevent any extra squeaking. When I round the corner, what I see nearly brings me to my knees. Jasper, the cat who can’t be touched, is curled up on Anthony’s lap as he sits cross-legged on the concrete floor.

  With shaking hands, I grab the phone from my back pocket and snap a picture. Sensing my presence, Anthony looks up at me moments later through the glass of Jasper’s room, his eyes open wide in surprise. I watch as his mouth forms the words, “Do you see this?” as if he doesn’t want to break the spell that’s been cast on Jasper by making a sound and spooking him.

  I wave my phone in the air and mouth back, “I’ve got the evidence!” which makes Anthony smile like a little kid on Christmas. Tiptoeing backward, I silently add, “I’ll be in the car,” while hitching my thumb over my shoulder toward the stairs.

  He gives me a nod, then goes back to scratching Jasper’s ears, melting my heart––along with my panties––in under a second flat.

  Once I reach the main floor, I click on the photo album app on my phone and zoom in on Anthony’s face that’s practically glowing with affection…only to find my face mirroring it. Dropping my head back and looking up at the ceiling, I mutter, “I’m so screwed,” then head for the car.

  A few minutes later, Anthony comes bounding down the walkway before swinging the door open and taking a seat behind the wheel. I watch as he glances over at me then leans across the console and kisses me. My muscles freeze as he slowly grazes his tongue along the seam of my lips, his hand cupping the side of my face. Closing my eyes, I melt under his attention and open up to him, letting him in the only way I know how.

  We don’t really kiss like this. Not unless it’s going to lead to sex. And since we’re in the car on the way to the airport, I don’t really see us getting past second base, which is why I froze in the first place. But right now? After the elation we both felt at witnessing Jasper accepting someone? Yeah, I couldn’t stop kissing him if I tried. Giving me a second velvet kiss that’s softer this time––and more innocent––he hovers less than an inch away before murmuring, “Thanks for coming. And thanks for introducing me to Jasper. That was most likely the coolest thing I’ve ever experienced, and I have you to thank for it.”

  “You’re welcome,” I whisper, my breath mingling with his.

  His gaze drops back down to my lips before he groans and sits back in his seat, rearranging himself before gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.

  “Can I tell you how much I want to take you inside and finish this?”

  My mouth quirks up. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” he growls. “But I also want us to get going, so stop looking at me like that.”

  Leaning over the console, I give him a quick peck on the cheek then grab his hand and lace our fingers together. With our hands resting in the middle of the seats, I reply, “Then let’s get going, Mr. Wright. The day’s a wastin’.”

  Using his left hand, he puts the car into reverse then backs out of the driveway without letting go of my fingers, and I refuse to acknowledge the way it makes me beam on the inside.

  “You say my last name a lot,” he notes before shifting us into drive and heading down the road toward the airport.

  “I do. But I should probably warn you that no matter how cute you are, and how good you are in bed, and despite my allergy to the word relationship, we can’t ever get married.”

  He snorts and gives me the side-eye. “And why’s that?”

  “Because Sway Wright sounds terrible.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” he protests, scrunching up his face.

  “Yes, it does. Sway to the left, Sway to the right.” I emphasize the word right before it dawns on him.

  “Ah, gotcha. Yeah, that’s a very good point. Guess we can’t get married.”

  I shrug. “Guess not.”

  “Bummer, though,” he says, turning on his blinker. “I think we could’ve made some pretty cute kids.”

  I transform into a freaking statue before covering my shock with a sniff and looking out the window as the snow-covered trees blur past me. “Yup,” I mumble. “If only.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Anthony

  Sticking my foot in my mouth isn’t exactly a common occurrence, but it happens more often than I’d like to admit, and I saw her deflate right before my eyes as soon as I joked about kids. I didn’t mean to come off needy or anything. I know how much she hates anything that even hints at commitment, yet I just shined a damn spotlight on the potential of us.

  I’m an idiot, but I refuse to let the slipup ruin our adventure. After all, I learned from the best, and she happens to be sitting beside me moping out the passenger window, all because I hinted at something more than a fling.

  Pulling into the long-term parking garage at the airport, I put the car in park then dig deep for the most sincere voice I can muster.

  “Sway.”

  She turns to me, her gaze lackluster. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her cute little eyebrows pinch in the center. “For what?”

  “For joking about serious stuff like marriage and babies. I know it freaks you out, and I was being thoughtless. You and I have an arrangement, and I’m okay with it. I have no hidden expectations with you, and I definitely don’t have a hidden agenda by surprising you with this little adventure. I want us to have fun, and I want you to forget about my stupid comment. Deal?”

  There’s a brief pause as her eyes dim, and I’m positive I’ve screwed up all over again before she whispers, “You didn’t say anything wrong. This one’s on me.”

  I lean forward and reach for her hand, craving her touch more than anything else in the world. By some miracle, she doesn’t stop me. Again. Apparently, I haven’t completely screwed myself over.

  “What do you mean, Sway?”

  With a shake of her head, I watch her paste a fake smile on her face before she completely transforms her demeanor right before my eyes as if pulling on a mask to hide her pain. “Nothing. I’m fine. Promise. Just hormones. Let’s go have fun this weekend. I’ve been dying for a vacation, ya know?”

  Though her wall is up, I’m determined to scale it by the end of the trip. It might seem impenetrable to her, but she’s never met someone like me. However, I know that pushing the point is useless right now, so I let it go.

  With a smile, I murmur, “You’re lying through your teeth, but it’s okay. My mission is to make you smile for real, and it’s going to start with a plane ride to any destination you’d like. Deal?”

  Her eyes gather with tears before she blinks them away and gives me a watery smile. “Deal.”

  Hand in hand, we walk into the airport and straight to the information desk.

  “Excuse me,” I ask as we step up to the counter. “We were wondering what the destinations were for your next three flights out.”

  The poor airport associate looks l
ike she’s had a long day. Her gray hair is a frazzled mess, and her uniform is rumpled, but she gives me a hesitant smile anyway before asking in confusion, “Pardon?”

  Sway interjects. “We’d like two tickets to a flight of your choice. One that’s leaving in the next hour or so would probably be best.” Turning to me, Sway adds, “Do we care if it’s international or not?”

  I shrug. “I’m game, if you are.”

  “Last minute international flights can be quite pricey,” the worker interrupts before her little fingers start clicking on the keyboard.

  “I’ve got a lot of points saved up from my credit card. The sky’s the limit,” I return, talking to Sway more than the attendant.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.” I grin, loving the light that slowly returns to the girl in front of me.

  “That’s awfully spontaneous of you,” she points out. “Do you even have a passport?”

  I roll my eyes. “Duh. I’m not a complete moron.”

  With a smirk, Sway turns to the airport worker, who seems thoroughly entertained by our little sidebar chat.

  “Have you both made a decision?” she asks with open curiosity.

  “Yes. We’d like somewhere stateside please.”

  I tug on Sway’s arm and stare her down. “Sway. I already told you––”

  “Between the flight times and the time difference, it won’t be worth it. During our next little adventure, we’ll plan for something longer and travel overseas. But for today, I think we should go somewhere closer. Deal?”

  She’s a smart little shit. And did she just mention a future? Did she make a plan and not even know it?

  I clear my throat. “Deal.”

  We both turn to the attendant on the opposite side of the counter but don’t bother to repeat our conversation since she already heard the whole thing.

  “Well, alright then. Would you like to know a few of your options, or do you want me to surprise you?”

  I look over at Sway to see her beaming like a little kid on their birthday. The sight eases the lingering tension in my chest from the car ride, and I know her answer. Without breaking eye contact, I tell the airport lady, “Surprise us.”

  The clicking resumes, then she asks for my credit card. I dig it out of my back pocket and hand it to her with ease, knowing the charges will be covered.

  “Perfect. You’ll need to go to Gate F. Good luck.”

  Taking the tickets and credit card back from her, I catch Sway bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement all over again like a little Energizer bunny. As soon as my card is safely tucked into my wallet, and my duffle bag is in my right hand, Sway tugs me in the direction of our gate while chattering about all the possibilities, her entire body buzzing with enthusiasm.

  We get through security in record time and head to our gate before finally taking a peek at our tickets to see the final destination written in bold ink: SFO Airport.

  “San Francisco!” she squeals. “Have you ever been?”

  I shake my head as her excitement rubs off on me. “Nope. We have a little time before we board, should we look up––”

  “Uh-uh, Mr. Wright. I believe that’s called planning, remember?”

  “Dammit, you’re right. So what do we do now? Twiddle our thumbs?”

  With a grin, she pulls me over to the nearest Starbucks and orders a sweet tea for her and a tall, black coffee for me.

  We spend the next thirty minutes laughing, talking, and reminiscing about that one time Jasper sat in my lap. Yes, it was this morning, and yes, we’re still calling it a miracle.

  When we are asked to board the plane, we do it hand in hand…again. And the really weird part? It’s starting to feel like the most natural thing in the world.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sway

  As we take a seat on the airplane, my brain tries to do the math to figure out the last time I’ve flown anywhere. I’m a little sad to admit it’s been years. Looking over at Anthony who’s seated next to me and closing his eyes with a peaceful expression painted across his face, I nudge him.

  “Hey,” I whisper.

  Squinting, he peeks over at me. “Hey.”

  “Thanks for this.”

  “For what?”

  “For this little spontaneous trip. It was exactly what I needed.” Sitting up straight, I lean over and give him a gentle kiss against his lips, our mouths fitting together perfectly. There’s no heat behind it, but it warms me anyway. It’s the second kiss we’ve shared that doesn’t lead to sex, and oddly enough, I’m okay with it.

  Resting my head against his shoulder, we listen to the flight attendant as she lists off the instructions in case anything goes wrong, then we’re in the air.

  “Did you travel much for work?” I ask while nibbling on a Biscotti cookie the flight attendant handed out a few minutes before.

  “Sometimes. It’s different when you’re traveling for work, though. You don’t see any of the sites. You don’t experience the culture. You fly in, go to meetings, kiss ass, maybe get a drink at the hotel bar after a long day, then go to bed. Seriously, I’ve been to a handful of countries, but I can’t remember anything about them.”

  My heart goes out to him because that sounds terrible. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I ask, “And what about for fun? When was the last time you did that?”

  With a groan, Anthony looks up at the airplane’s ceiling in the main compartment before muttering, “Probably eight or nine years ago. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a workaholic, Sway. The guy you’re sitting next to? He’s not the same as the one who left New York.”

  “And why is that? What changed?”

  “You already know my history,” he hedges, and I can tell I’ve stumbled upon a touchy subject. However, it doesn’t stop me from poking for answers.

  “Will you tell me about her?”

  I don’t even know her name, but I do know he understands who I’m asking about.

  “Her name is Indie,” he starts. “Our parents were best friends in high school, and both ended up marrying their high school sweethearts and had babies close together too. When we broke up, Indie had mentioned that we didn’t really stand a chance to be with other people in the beginning because our parents were always expecting us to end up together. Looking back, she was a hundred percent right. We were pushed together as soon as we were able to date. Hell, her mom was practically planning our wedding before either of us could walk.”

  “Did you love her?” I don’t know why I even bother to ask. What Anthony and I have? It’s purely physical––with a side of friendship. The L-word? Yeah, that’s not even on my radar. Still, curiosity has me leaning forward with interest.

  He nods. “I did. I still love her, but not in the way you’re thinking. After being away from her and––” Stopping abruptly, he clears his throat. “And being introduced to other…things and another way of life, I can see that I was never really happy in the relationship. And neither was she. We were comfortable but not necessarily happy, and I didn’t understand the difference until––” His gaze shifts to me before dropping to his lap.

  “Until what?” I push, nearly sitting on the edge of my seat.

  “Until I gained a new perspective. That’s all.”

  I don’t know why a wave of disappointment rolls through me, but I shove it aside and link our fingers together before resting our interlaced hands on his knee.

  “Do you think you’ll ever be able to move on? To let her go?”

  A poignant pause wraps around us as I wait for his response.

  “I think I let her go long before our relationship ended. I just didn’t see it. As far as moving on? Yeah. I think I can do that too for the right––”

  “This is your captain speaking.” I flinch as the unfamiliar voice blasts through the airplane’s speakers. “We have turned on the fasten seatbelt sign as we’ll be landing in San Francisco shortly. Please put your tray tables and seats back in their upright
positions. Thank you so much for flying with us today.”

  Anthony’s piercing stare holds mine, but he doesn’t finish his comment, and I find myself searching for all the possible words that could fill in the blank. I think I can do that too for the right…what? The right amount of money? The right sexual position? The right kind of sandwich? The right––I gulp––girl?

  And what constitutes the right girl, anyway? Is there a checklist I can go through? Just for curiosity purposes, obviously. It’s not like I would honestly consider applying for the job. What Anthony and I have going? That’s to pass the time until the right girl does come along for him. I shift back in my seat and look out the tiny, oval airplane window as a bitter taste floods my mouth. Then I remember what I’d most definitely see on that damn checklist, and I would bet that children and a white picket fence are on there––just like he’d said when we first met––and I know they’re two boxes I’ll never be able to fill.

  “Hey.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “Where’d you go?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Swayze Girl was somewhere else for a minute there, and I looked over to find myself sitting next to a stranger. Where’d ya go?”

  I lick my lips as the engines roar, and the wheels touch the ground, jostling me from making any kind of statement. I don’t know what I’d say, anyway.

  “So,” he starts while the rest of the passengers begin digging through the overhead compartments for their carry-ons. “Does it count as planning if I was daydreaming about all the things we could do in San Francisco when we got here?”

  With a breath of laughter, I shake my head. “Pretty sure that’s the definition of planning, Mr. Wright.”

  “Dammit. I suck at this.”

  Giggling, I pat his knee with mock sympathy. “You really do. But it’s too late now. What were you thinking? Let’s hear it.”

  His head swivels to the aisle to see it’s our turn to exit. Standing, he squeezes out of the tiny seat then offers his hand to pull me up, and I take it. With bags in our grasp, we start walking off the plane and down the jetway before he answers. “There’s the Golden Gate Bridge, trolleys we can ride, Fisherman’s Wharf, and drumroll please….”