“Hey.”
“Logan.” I acknowledge him with a chin lift, and he does the same, not fazed by my affection. “It looks amazing in here.” I peer around the rooms that have taken on a complete transformation since yesterday morning.
“It’s all Grace. She may have wanted to kill me when I told her we’d be displaying the sculptures, but she’s made it flawless,” he praises her.
“It’s a group effort.” She leans into me and squeezes my waist. “We have you to thank, too. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be living here tonight to finish. So thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Seriously, Six, we appreciate your help. I owe you dinner.” Logan offers his hand.
“I’ll take you up on that.”
“I’m going to upload these and start working on the website changes. Be in the office if you need me.” He gives a wave and turns to leave, but I catch the grin spreading across his lips.
“I owe you dinner, too. Are you hungry?” Grace asks, twisting into me.
My chest tightens at how natural she feels tucked to my side. Less than twelve hours ago, I showed up at her apartment, planning to let her set the pace. But when she answered the door, all thoughts flew out the window with one glance.
Without answering, I lift her so our faces are close. Her eyes scan mine quickly and land on my lips, knowing what I want. She gives a small smile and lowers her mouth to mine, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
Our mouths move urgently together, different than any other time I’ve kissed her. This time, she meets my tongue stroke for stroke, almost fighting for power. My dick grows hard at the thought.
My Sweet Peach may have a wild side. She proves me right the second she adjusts her hips and wraps her legs around my waist, tightening her grip on my shoulders.
There’s no doubt she feels my hard cock through my shorts. I fight every impulse I have to grab her ass and grind against her. I give up control, letting her own the kiss. She doesn’t disappoint, sliding her hands into my short hair and scraping her nails along my scalp.
She lets out a faint whimper, and I’m done. My dick throbs, jerking as ringing starts in my ears. I squeeze her waist and start to slow down, nibbling on her bottom lip as I break away.
Pride surges through me as I watch her eyes clear and see the faraway look on her face.
“Babe, I’m starving, but not necessarily for food. I have a newfound craving for the taste of you.”
Her cheeks flush deeper, and she bites the side of her mouth. “We can leave if you’re ready. I can finish my work tomorrow.”
“Sure, but first, give me a tour.” I’ll need the few minutes to get my raging hormones under control, and I say a silent prayer her brother doesn’t walk out.
She nods, unlatching her legs and slipping down my body. Her hand slides into mine, and she starts guiding me around the room. She tells me about the artists as she points to their work, but her words jumble in my head. With each word, I’m more drawn to her.
Her voice is full of spirit and excitement, pulling me even deeper under her spell.
When we come to an entire shelving area of glass art, her expression changes. “This is probably one of my favorite displays ever.”
“It’s beautiful,” I tell her honestly. The pieces are all different colors, shapes, and sizes. I immediately see a piece that catches my eye. It’s a cylinder shape that branches out at the top with wild, crisscrossing glass. A few of the thin branches have bulbs. “But this piece specifically is incredible.” I point, scared to touch it.
Her hand tightens in mine. “Really? You think so?”
“Absolutely, my eyes were drawn to it. Are these going to be for sale?”
“I’ll make you one,” she replies sheepishly, and it’s my turn to be shocked.
“You did this?”
She nods. “I did. It’s not as professional and perfectly symmetrical as the rest, but I’m proud of it.”
“To me, it’s better than the rest of them by far. It actually jumps out at me.”
Her eyes dance with happiness, and I catch glimpses of the girl I remember. Then a memory comes barging into my mind. She loves glass sculpting. She mentioned it several times in the few snippets she shared about her art goals.
How could I forget?
“I’m so proud of you. This is what you loved, and you did it,” I say softly, running my free hand along her cheek.
She inhales sharply, her eyes starting to shine. “You remember?”
“I do now.”
“No one but my family truly knows my love for glasswork.”
Her statement seizes my heart. This moment feels intimate, not in a sexual way but in the way that she’s let me in on a secret only shared with those who mean something to her.
“Does it have a special meaning?”
She starts to look around nervously, and I step in closer, leaving only inches between us. “Grace?”
“It’s supposed to be a peach tree. I made it shortly after Grandma died. I never thought anyone would see it, but it felt right to put it in this display, it being my first real show as part owner. She would have loved to be here, and in a way, she is. I put it here as a reminder of her.”
It isn’t so much what she’s said but the meaning behind it that erases any unresolved feelings of why she never contacted me again. At this moment, something clicks, and I understand so much about this woman that couldn’t be explained in her words. It’s her actions.
I’ve been riding on the assumption she lost her grandmother, a woman she loved and admired. But she lost a woman she worshiped, a woman who raised her with values and beliefs.
And now I feel my own loss for not ever meeting Kayla Rae Monroe.
“You didn’t answer me. Are you going to sell it?” The thought sours in my stomach.
“I don’t think so.”
“Good, I think you should keep it.”
“I’ll still make you one.”
“Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”
“Are you ready for dinner now?”
“Sure, how do you feel about take-out?”
She gives me a questioning look, probably because of my earlier comment regarding craving the taste of her.
“Let me clarify. It’s rare I can enjoy a low key dinner. Most people are very respectful, but I still get recognized. Tonight, I don’t want the interruptions. I want to spend time with you.”
Her face dawns in understanding, and she gives me a playful smile. “It’s easy to forget you’re a celebrity in this town. Let me get my purse and tell Logan goodbye. We can get something and go back to my place if that’s okay.”
“It’s not hard for me because I don’t think of myself that way, and your place sounds great.” I lean in for another quick kiss. “Go get your stuff.”
“Here’s that charm thing again. Although, I’m beginning to understand the nickname Sexy Six…” She slides out of my arms and walks to the back office.
I watch her sway away, her words ringing in my ears.
Sexy Six never sounded so good.
“Come on, Grace. Wipe that scowl off your face.” I start unpacking the food containers onto her kitchen counter.
“I’m not scowling,” she replies, getting plates and silverware. “I’m trying to figure out how this happened. It was supposed to be my treat!”
I hang my head to hide my amusement. She’s really cute when she’s miffed.
“Never gonna happen, Sweet Peach. You’re with me, I pay. Always, no arguments.”
“Absurd macho behavior.” She huffs.
“I’d prefer to think of it as gentlemanly.”
“But I’m supposed to be thanking you for all your help! It’s perfectly acceptable to let me pay.” She places the plates on the counter with a loud thud.
I glance over at her, noticing her cheeks are flushed. Her lips keep moving, but I tune her out and take a quick glance around. Once I spot empty counter space, I swoop down and pick
her up, sealing my mouth over hers. She gives a little squeal as I take a few steps and sit her on the space, slipping between her knees. My hands grip her hips lightly as I continue to kiss her until she gives in.
“You really want to fucking argue over who paid for dinner?” I say into her mouth.
Her hands glide up my chest to rest on my shoulders. “Yes,” she mutters.
I slide her closer until we’re flush against each other and deepen the kiss, letting her know there is no room for argument. Desire simmers in my veins.
If she gets this worked up over fucking take-out, I’m going to be in trouble. I saw a little of her saucy side with Logan, but when it’s directed at me, it’s more of a turn on than a threat.
Slowly, I end the kiss but don’t let her go. “Get over it, Grace, and accept it.”
Her eyes meet mine and soften, turning a lighter shade of violet. “Thank you, Nick. I appreciate it.”
“You going to pitch a fit every time I buy you dinner?”
She reluctantly shakes her head.
“Jesus, babe, what kind of guys have you dated that would ever let you pay?”
I can tell I struck a nerve and instantly regret my question.
“My last date, Pledge, was a struggling artist and didn’t have much money.”
My stomach turns at the mention of her ‘last date’, even more so at his manners. “You dated a guy named Pledge?”
Her face starts to heat up, and she nods. She surprises me when her lips twitch, and she starts to giggle. “He wasn’t really the dating type.”
“I don’t know the guy, and he sounds like a tool.”
Her giggles grow into full blown laughter, and she shakes against my chest. “He was! My grandpa shot his taillight out!” she rasps.
The laughter is infectious, and soon, I’m chuckling along with her. She peers up at me, her eyes shining.
“It’s a long story, but let’s say he never spoke to me again.”
“Good.” I slide her off the counter and set her back on her feet. “One less asshole to compete with.”
We make our plates, still laughing, and I follow her to sit at her dining table. “So what happens next now that the reset is done?” I ask before taking a bite.
“We’ll open on Thursday for a few limited hours. Each artist has been invited to see the displays. Logan has a press plan that goes into action on Thursday as well. Then, on Friday night, we have a cocktail party planned for an exclusive showing. Monday, we open to the general public.”
At her mention of a cocktail party, my subconscious tells me to push for more. “What kind of cocktail party?”
“The kind where Logan and I schmooze with our loyal clientele and hope for new business. We put on our biggest smiles, work the rooms, introduce the artists, and promote the gallery.”
“Is this your first time doing one of these?”
She looks at me regretfully, shaking her head. “It’s my second. I did one last fall after a reset then had to get back to school. It was a quick trip.”
Her statement came out more as an explanation, a guilty explanation. I reach over and lay my hand on hers, squeezing lightly. “You don’t need to feel bad, Grace. We’ve already established you came to Miami several times. As much as I wish you’d have called, I understand. Second chances, remember?”
Relief washes over her face as she nods. “Nothing we’ve ever done has been as big as this showing. I’m extremely nervous and excited at the same time. When I think of it, I feel a little queasy. My hope is that it goes well. Logan’s been on his own for a while, and I want to pull my weight. This is my chance to really show him I can.”
She puts her fork down and takes a sip of her wine. I notice her hand shaking a bit, and her words sink in. Her expression changes to one of unease and apprehension. Her easygoing attitude disappears as self-doubt takes over.
I move both our plates and scoot my chair closer to hers. She looks at me in confusion until I bend and pluck her into my lap, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from tumbling over.
“W-w-what are you doing?” she stutters.
“I’m putting you in my lap,” I point out the obvious.
“I can see that, but why?”
“Because you were too far away.”
Her eyes start to soften in the way I’m growing to understand. “And I want you in my arms when I tell you that without a shadow of a doubt, you have nothing to be worried about. Friday night will be incredible. I’m an idiot when it comes to art, I’ll be the first to admit it, but you make it interesting. Your enthusiasm and knowledge make even the most ignorant want to know more. As for Logan, he knows how hard you’ve worked. When I walked into that gallery today, he had pride written all over his face.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She seems to think about this for a second until a small grin forms on her lips. “Thanks, Nick.”
“So is it invite only?”
“We sent out the invitations weeks ago.” She bobs her head rapidly. “We actually have a few people begging to get in at the last minute.”
Disappointment digs in until I catch the twinkle in her eye as her lips twitch.
“Begging, huh? That’s too bad. I’d love to come. Know any way I could get into this elite event?” My arms circle her waist, and she leans back, shaking her head while trying to keep a straight face.
“It’s going to be hard, very hard. I can’t think of a way to get you in, unless…” She taps a finger against her mouth as if she’s thinking hard.
“Unless?” I bend into her, my lips brushing along her neck.
“Unless you wanted to be my date.”
My heartbeat quickens as my plan starts to work. “That sounds like a real hardship. I’ll have to check my schedule,” I tease her, nipping lightly on her earlobe.
“I understand if you’re busy, but—”
“Sweet Peach, there’s no place I’d rather be on Friday night. The thought of being your date is the best offer I’ve had in a long time.”
Her face lights up, and she throws her arms around my shoulders. “You may regret that when you’re bored out of your mind.”
“There’s no way I could be bored.”
“Charmer.”
“Only with you.” I lean in to kiss her, pulling her close and forgetting about our food.
She’s all I need for now…
Chapter 9
Grace
I try to swallow the moan, but it doesn’t work, and instead, the sound comes out as a strangled croak. Nick’s encouraged by the sounds, and both his hands skim up my sides as he deepens the kiss. I arch my body into him, tightening my hold on his hips, which swivel into mine with the added pressure.
His erection rubs against my core, and we both groan at the same time. He tears his mouth away from mine and drops his head to the side, resting it in the crook of my neck.
“Holy fucking shit, I can’t get enough of you,” he pants.
My stomach does a full twist as I try to catch my own breath. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He lifts up enough to see my face and moves one hand to cup my chin. “It’s a very, very good thing… I’d even say it’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
His eyes turn into the most beautiful shade of liquid blue, and he scans my face, running his thumb across my lower lip.
“Yeah, Sweet Peach, dangerous. One week, that’s all it’s taken for me to go from curious to crazy.”
“Crazy?” I question in a whisper.
“When I asked Shaw to find you, I was curious, wanting to see you again, talk to you, get answers and see how you were doing. That curiosity turned into so much more the second my eyes landed on you last Thursday.”
At his words, an electric thrill runs through my body. “Where does the crazy part come in?”
He doesn’t answer, leaning in to kiss me lightly. Too quickly, he jerks up and le
ans all the way back, bringing me with him into a sitting position.
“I should probably go.”
My mood falls, not wanting him to leave. I glance at the table and the half-eaten plates of food, blurting out, “We didn’t even finish dinner.”
He looks behind him and back to me with a smirk. “I got distracted.”
Heat creeps up my neck and chest, thinking about how we ended up on the couch. What started as what I thought was a normal kiss became heated, and he quickly relocated us from the table to the sofa. One kiss turned into two and quickly escalated into a full blown make-out session. It’s easy to lose track of time when Nick Bennett has you pinned under him.
I don’t want him to leave. I want him to lay me back down and continue to kiss me like I’ve never been kissed. I’m more alive than I’ve ever felt in my life. The feelings from this morning return, and I try to tamper down the lust running through my veins.
“Grace?” Nick angles his head so it’s directly in my line of sight. “You okay?”
I snap out of my thoughts and focus on his beautiful face. “Do you have to leave?”
His face takes on a new expression as he shakes his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t want you to.”
His face breaks into a wide smile. “Then I’ll stay.”
His phone rings before I can say anything else, and he fishes it out of his pocket. The ring tone is familiar, but I can’t place the song. “I need to get this. It’ll only be a minute,” he tells me.
I shift to get up and give him privacy, but he yanks me back into his lap.
“Hey,” he answers the call.
A male voice comes through so loud I can hear it clearly.
“Nicky, I’ve done the best I can, but Bizzy’s clued in. She knows something is up with you. You need to talk to her.”
“Shaw, I’ll call her tomorrow, promise.”
“You better. She’s about to climb the walls.”
“I don’t know why. I spoke to her this morning.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been home from Indy for days, and she’s on my ass, saying you’re different. Even my best methods of distractions aren’t working.”
I feel like a complete creep eavesdropping, even if Nick has me in a super hold, and I can’t help overhearing.
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