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by K. L. Grayson


  Shae worries her bottom lip between her teeth. I gently press my thumb there, pulling it out of her mouth, and she sighs.

  “I feel it,” she says softly.

  We stare at each other, the sounds of the city surrounding us, and after several moments she reaches for my hand. Looking down at her fingers wrapped around mine, I’m given a renewed sense of hope.

  “I wish I would’ve called you, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either.”

  That’s all I needed to hear, baby.

  “Shae?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes soft and gentle. “I was hoping you would.”

  I drop my lips to hers, and Shae steps into me, pressing the front of her body against mine. One of her hands slides up my chest, into my hair, her fingers wrapping around the back of my head. Her other hand squeezes mine tightly, and I squeeze it back, needing her to keep me grounded because I’m seconds away from backing her up against the side of the nearest building.

  Winding my arm around her waist, I gather her close. Her breaths are coming in short pants. Her eyes smolder as they focus on my lips, and she pushes up on her toes to kiss me again.

  I’ve been kissing girls since the ripe age of twelve, each one better than the last, but not once has a woman felt this good in my arms. Never have I felt lips this soft and a mouth this perfect.

  Shae hums deep in her chest, slowly pulling back—eyes closed, gorgeous smile. I drop my forehead to hers.

  “I want to devour you, consume you until there’s nothing left. What kind of man does that make me?”

  “Rex,” she whispers, her voice full of raw emotion.

  I glide my hands up her arms, over her shoulders, and cup her neck. “Whatever this is, we don’t have to give it a name. If you’re not ready, we don’t have to define us, but I need to know I’m going to get to do that again. Tomorrow. Next week. A month from now. I want to do that again.”

  She grins. “I’d like that.”

  A generous weight is lifted from my shoulders, and I feel like I can breathe. Linking our fingers together, I lead her down the sidewalk.

  “Tell me about you,” I urge.

  “You already know my favorite color, my favorite food, and my favorite baseball team, so you’re already three up on me,” she says. “Maybe you should tell me about you.”

  “Blue. Italian. Cubs. Your turn.”

  Eyes wide, she looks at me, grinning. “I don’t see how this could ever work between us. A Cubs fan and a Cardinals fan…I’m sure there’s a joke in there somewhere.”

  “On the contrary, I think it’ll be good for us. Give us something to argue over. Now you’re not three up, so tell me something else.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with your career. Event planning—that sounds like an interesting job.”

  “It is, but it’s certainly not for everyone.”

  “Bridezillas?”

  “Oh my gosh,” she says, laughing. “You have no idea. Weddings are by far my least favorite event to plan for that reason alone.”

  “What’s your favorite?”

  “Birthday parties. Sweet sixteen events, if we’re getting specific.”

  “Do people really do those? I always thought it was just a myth. I sure as hell never had one.”

  “It’s a really big thing that’s growing in popularity, and you’d be surprised at how much money some people will drop to give their sweet baby girl a party to remember. I mean, we’re talking thousands, sometimes tens of thousands of dollars.”

  My kids are so screwed because no way would I spend that kind of money on a birthday party. “Why is that your favorite?”

  She looks off in the distance and shrugs. “Birthday parties hold a certain magic for me. When you’re growing up, it’s such a monumental thing, and you get to do it every single year. Every year you’re guaranteed one day where you’ll get to shove your face with cake, blow out candles, and open presents with your friends. But it doesn’t last, and that’s why it’s so special. Eventually you grow up, and the birthday parties disappear. They’re replaced by a card, and if you’re lucky a text or call from a friend or parent wishing you a happy birthday. Where’s the magic in that?” She looks over at me as we walk. “I bet you had some amazing birthday parties growing up.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  She shrugs, looking at the packed streets. “You and Dante seem to be doing well. I assume you had two really great parents behind that, and where there’s two really great parents, there’s usually some kick-ass birthday parties.”

  “One really great parent,” I correct. “And one absent parent who thought it was more important to buy me something expensive than actually show up for the party.”

  She sighs as though she knows what that’s like. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You were right. My mom made sure we had some really great parties.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  “Just your typical things. Bowling. Skating. Swimming. McDonalds.”

  Her face lights up. “Oh my gosh, you had a McDonalds birthday party? I forgot those even existed.”

  “I take it you were not lucky enough to have a birthday party at the golden arches?”

  Her smile fades, and she shakes her head. “No. That’s one party I didn’t have. Among others.”

  I tug her hand, slowing her steps. “What do you mean among others?”

  Shae clears her throat, and I can see her hesitation. I’m relieved when she starts talking.

  “I, uh…after the age of nine, my family stopped celebrating birthdays.”

  “What? Really? That seems a little young. I think my last official birthday party wasn’t until I was about thirteen or fourteen.”

  She shrugs. “It is what it is. I had some really great ones up until that point.”

  “What changed? Did it have to do with your mother’s death?”

  I glance between Shae and the sidewalk ahead to make sure I don’t plow into someone. The strain on her face is prevalent, and the last thing I want to do is upset her.

  “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

  She looks up at me, relieved. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it. I do. I’ll tell you. Just not today, okay?”

  “I can live with that.”

  Her relief is palpable. Whatever she’s feeling, it’s raw and painful. I can see it harbored in her eyes. I won’t push her today, but I will find out what happened.

  “Tell me more about your skating party,” she says. “That was always on my list, so I’ll live out my childhood birthdays through you.”

  “Don’t worry, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. When you spend more time on your ass than you do upright, it’s not so much fun.”

  “Oh, no! You aren’t a good skater?

  “Wasn’t. I wasn’t a good skater. I’ve since learned. It was my tenth birthday, and there was this girl in my class—”

  “It’s always a girl.”

  “It is! Anyway, she loved to skate, so I begged my mom to have my birthday party at the skating rink. I had visions of us skating around the rink holding hands. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay up long enough for that to happen.”

  “That is a great story,” Shae says, smiling. “It’s hard to believe those days are gone. Today it’s all about who has the fanciest dress, or spends the most money.” Her phone rings, but she ignores it. “If I ever have children, I’m going old school. They’re going to get a backyard barbeque with pin the tail on the donkey. And if it’s nice out, a water balloon fight.”

  “Or a Slip ‘n Slide.”

  “Yes! Do they even make those anymore?”

  As soon as Shae’s phone stops ringing, it starts back up, and I pull us to the side of the sidewalk so we don’t get trampled.

  “Answer it. I’m in no hurry.”


  “It’s probably JJ,” she says, digging her phone out of her bag. “He’s mad because I had to cancel our plans for tonight.” I don’t get a chance to ask her what plans because she swipes her finger across the phone. “Hey, JJ.”

  Not wanting to eavesdrop, I pull my phone out and check my email. Shae laughs a couple of times. I hear her promise to reschedule and tell him to stay and have fun, she’s going to go home and veg out for the night. When she tucks her phone in her pocket, I do the same.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be.”

  We weave our way back onto the sidewalk. I reach for Shae’s hand, and a spark shoots up my arm. She glances up at me, and I feel like she’s looking straight into my soul, seeing all the secrets I’ve got tucked away, and choosing me regardless.

  I want to give her those secrets.

  “Please tell me you felt that,” she whispers.

  I give her fingers a squeeze. “I think the entire city felt that.”

  “Our chemistry is amazing,” she says, our pace suddenly picking up.

  “Off the charts.”

  We round the corner and walk several more blocks before she glances up at me again. “It’s a little scary.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’ve never had this sort of connection with someone before. I’m not really sure what to do with it.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ve never felt it either.”

  She cocks a brow. “Really? I don’t believe that for one second.”

  “Why?”

  “Look at you,” she says, waving her free hand at me. “You’re successful, gorgeous, smart, funny, and to top it off you’re amazing in the sack—”

  “Keep going,” I say playfully.

  She slaps my arm. “What I’m saying is you’re the whole package. I don’t understand how you’re still single. Wait.” She stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Stalker?”

  “I was planning to stalk you if you didn’t call. Does that count?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I probably would’ve resorted to stalking you as well. You don’t have some weird foot fetish where you want to suck my toes, do you?”

  “No,” I laugh. “There are several parts of your body I want to suck, but your toes are not among them.”

  “Well, then,” she says, stepping toward me. “What’s the secret? Why am I the lucky girl who gets to spend the evening with Rex Ambrosi?”

  “I could ask you the very same questions.”

  “Do you feel like a lucky girl?”

  Winding my arm around her waist, I haul her close. She giggles, and warmth spreads through my chest. “Watch your mouth,” I warn, taking her lips in a searing kiss.

  A few people give out catcalls, a few more yell at us to get a room, but no way am I letting this woman go.

  Breathless, Shae pulls back. “Erin and JJ are out for the night. Would you like to come up when we get to my place?”

  Slamming my lips against hers, my tongue plunges into her mouth, seizing it as if I own it. Her soft body melts against mine, and when I pull back her, heavy eyes blink up at me.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  Her lower lip is glistening from my mouth, and she runs a thumb along it. “Let’s go.” Grabbing my hand, she tries to pull me down the sidewalk, but her poor little legs are just too short. I scoop her up, tossing her over my shoulder for the remaining two blocks.

  “You have a thing for holding me.”

  I smack her ass. “A thing for your ass in my face.”

  “Rex?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Faster.”

  We fall through the door, kissing and groping, fumbling to get undressed. Since we’re unable to keep our hands off of each other, I toss a leg out, kicking the door shut, and a second later my back hits the wall. Rex’s face is buried in my neck, his greedy hands roaming every inch of my body.

  The sexual energy that’s been building around us explodes into a million beautiful colors, and I slide my hands down his back, pressing my breasts against his chest.

  “I need you,” I murmur, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

  Rex lifts his head from my neck, and for the rest of my life, I’ll never forget the way he’s looking at me. His brown eyes are almost black, smoldering with so much more than lust, and before I get his shirt off, his mouth attacks mine.

  Our tongues tangle as I drag the shirt up his chest. He lifts his arms and pulls back long enough for me to yank it off. Just when his sweet lips find mine again, the sound of the front door slamming stops me cold.

  This is not happening.

  “I don’t know about you, JJ, but this is not at all what I expected to find when we came home.”

  At the sound of Erin’s voice, I drop my head back against the wall and roll it to the side. JJ and Erin are standing in front of the door. JJ’s watching me closely, and Erin is staring, her hands on her hips and a sly smile on her face, as though she’s just watched a scene out of the newest Fifty Shades movie.

  Rex drops his arms, his hands landing on my waist, and he doesn’t even bother to look at our intruders. Instead, his head finds the crook of my neck. His body is still pressed tightly against mine, and I can feel his erection throbbing through his pants against my belly.

  Fuck JJ and Erin for coming home when they told me they were going to stay out and have a few drinks.

  I allow Rex the time he needs to compose himself because I’m sure the last thing he wants is to turn around and face my friends with a raging hard-on.

  “Please, carry on,” Erin says. “Don’t let us interrupt you.”

  Rex laughs against my neck and after a few moments stands straight.

  Erin smiles playfully at him. “Hello, Rex.”

  “Erin. So nice to see you again,” he says, reaching for his shirt. He tugs it over his head. “Where’s Jacob?”

  “Probably at home, waiting for me.”

  “Then maybe you should go,” I offer.

  But she shakes her head. “No way. This is the hottest thing I’ve seen in days, and I’m still holding out hope that I can catch the ending. You’re going to give him a happy ending, right? Because clearly, you’ve left him hanging,” she says, dropping her eyes to his crotch.

  “Erin!” I gasp, stepping in front of Rex. That’s my crotch to look at, not yours!

  “What?”

  JJ walks around her, holding his hand out to Rex. “We’ve never officially met. I’m Jonathan, but these two nutcases call me JJ.”

  Rex takes JJ’s hand, eyeing him warily, and when JJ’s eyes meet mine, I give him a gentle smile.

  Thank you.

  He smiles back. Anything for you, baby girl.

  Rex stuffs his hand in his pocket and looks at me. “We should go back to my place.”

  “No!” Erin yells. “Don’t leave. You were just getting to the good part.”

  “Erin…” I warn.

  “Fine. Sorry.” She holds her hands up. “We wouldn’t have come back so early if we’d known you had company.”

  “Why did you come back early? I just talked to JJ, and he said you were going to go out.”

  “Yes, but then you told him you were going home. Did you really think we would let you sit at home by yourself on your birthday?”

  Pinching my lips together I narrow my eyes at Erin.

  “Birthday?” Rex asks, touching my arm. “Today is your birthday?”

  Erin winces, and I shoot her one last look before answering Rex.

  “It’s really not a big deal.”

  “We had dinner plans, but she got held over at work, and then the schmuck was late and she had to cancel all together…” Erin’s words trail off as her eyes bounce between Rex and me, understanding slowly creeping in. “Ohhhh. You’re the schmuck, aren’t you?”

  “Okay.” JJ grabs Erin’s arm. “Let’s
go open a bottle of wine and leave these two alone for a second.”

  Erin gives Rex an apologetic look as JJ drags her off to the kitchen.

  “Shae,” Rex says, grabbing my hand.

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yes, it is.” His eyes soften. “That’s why you didn’t want to talk about your birthday, isn’t it?” I nod, and he shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me you had plans tonight? We could’ve rescheduled the meeting.”

  “Well, for starters, when Josalyn asked me to stay late, I didn’t realize you were my client. And it’s not a big deal. I’d rather work than celebrate anyway.”

  Face tight with apologies, Rex sighs. “I ruined your birthday dinner.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” I say, hugging his waist. “You pushing me up against the wall was probably the hottest gift anyone’s ever given me. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s those two assholes in there for interrupting us.”

  Rex’s eyes grow dark with lust. Lowering his head, his lips graze mine. “I want to make it up to you.”

  “Oh, I’m counting on it. In fact, I think I’m going to let you make it up to me several times. This birthday is going to be epic.”

  “We could go back to my place. Or I could walk you around the city to check out old buildings.”

  My smile fades. His recollection of the first day we met reminds me why I came back to Chicago. I’ve spent hours on the internet searching for clues about the life my father lived, hoping to jog a memory or at the very least get an idea of who Isa is, but I keep coming up empty. I’m not sure what it’s going to take to pull things from the deep recesses of my brain, but I make a silent promise to myself that I’ll keep trying—I’ll make time to figure things out, although maybe not as quickly as I had hoped.

  “Or not!” Erin interrupts.

  I shoot her another look. Damn open floor plan.

  She holds up a bottle of wine, waving it around. “I only meant you could stay here and celebrate with us first. You know, before going back to Rex’s where you’ll probably have crazy hot sex.”

  With Rex’s hand in mine, we walk into the kitchen. I snatch the bottle of wine from Erin. “You need to get laid,” I whisper.

  “I know,” she whines. She pulls a corkscrew from the drawer and hands it to Rex. “Jacob has this crazy idea that we should wait until the wedding to have sex.”

 

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