“They’re best warm,” she said, moving into the kitchen. “But we can eat first.” She opened the cupboard to get out the plates and promptly slammed it shut again at the sight of the yellow cleaning gloves.
“I don’t feel like doing dishes,” she said, heat rushing to her face. “Let me see if I have paper plates.” She dug around in a drawer, though she knew exactly where they were. But she stole a few seconds with her head ducked below the counter so she wouldn’t have to look Lawrence in the face.
“Here they are.” She straightened and tossed the package of paper plates on the counter. “Drinks?” She nearly ripped the door off the cupboard before she remembered she needed plastic.
“Maizee,” Lawrence said, and everything in her quieted. She turned toward him, soaking in the heated way he gazed at her. “What’s going on?”
“Did I upset you the other night?” she blurted, unsure of where the words had come from. She’d been over it and over it.
“No,” he said simply, even tucking his hands into his pockets to complete the picture of perfectly relaxed billionaire, just standing here in the kitchen.
“You haven’t been in to work since.” She didn’t mean to accuse him, but he really hadn’t been in to work, and he hadn’t texted to say why. “I mean, I’m not your boss, so it’s none of my business.”
Maizee felt near tears, and she didn’t even know why. She liked Lawrence too much already, that was probably why. Her emotions seemed to be on a roller coaster, and she didn’t know if she wanted to go up or if the fall would hurt her too badly.
Lawrence put a smile on his face that could melt glaciers and stepped over to her. He took her into his arms with ease, like he’d done it countless times before. But he hadn’t. This was the first time he’d held her close to him like this, and Maizee wanted the moment to slow, to stop, so she could memorize how warm, and safe, and wonderful she felt standing in the circle of his arms.
“I didn’t feel like working this week,” he said, his mouth so very close to her ear. His breath washed down her neck, making her shiver. He chuckled, as if he knew exactly how her cells were rioting, knew exactly how he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world, like he knew the effect he had on her and he liked it.
“I don’t believe that,” she said. “You love your job and your company.”
“Yes, I do.” He drew in a deep breath of her hair and swayed with her. “But even I need a break sometimes.”
“I don’t like my job,” she whispered as she laid her cheek against his chest and brought her arms around him. She’d never said it out loud, though something had been teeming inside her for a while now.
“You’re very good at it.”
She inhaled the cottony fresh scent of his shirt. Yes, she was good at her job. “I suppose I am.”
“Why don’t you do something else?” He stroked her hair, and Maizee wondered where this was all going. If she quit, she wouldn’t be dating her boss anymore, but what would she do instead?
“I don’t know,” she said, releasing him and stepping back. He let her go, the moment broken. Her skin buzzed like it could still feel his hands on her, and she sighed. “Let’s eat.”
“Okay,” he said, flipping open one of the pizza boxes. “I’m not a traditionalist when it comes to pizza. Hope these are okay.”
“They’re great.” Surely he’d called one of her sisters and found out that barbecue chicken pizza was one of her favorites. And this one looked amazing, with big chunks of chicken and thinly sliced red onions. She took two pieces of that and opened her fridge to pull out a case of Dr. Pepper.
“It’s probably not very cold yet,” she said. “I bought it on the way home from work.”
He took two cans and a plastic cup while she got out the ice. They danced around each other in her kitchen until Lawrence finally said, “You didn’t have to clean up for me.”
“I—”
“I can smell the bleach.” He watched her for a moment and then burst out laughing, the last of the awkwardness she’d been feeling drying right up with that glorious sound.
“Stop it,” she said, but she started to laugh a bit herself. “Let’s go eat outside so we don’t asphyxiate.” She took her soda and pizza toward the back door. She didn’t have a beach view, but a mountain one, which dripped with colorful blooms at this time of year.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” he said when he joined her on the back porch. Roger slipped out after him, and while Maizee didn’t have a fenced yard, the little dog didn’t go far. In fact, he sat at attention at Maizee’s feet, just sure he’d get a bite of that chicken. And he wouldn’t be wrong.
Maizee ate first, making Roger wait until nearly the end before he got a bite. “I think there’s a flower farm up there,” she said.
“Yeah,” Lawrence said like he knew. “Petals and Leis. I know the guy who owns it.”
“Of course you do.” She gave him a sly smile, which he thankfully returned. “You didn’t grow up here, did you?”
“No, but I’ve lived here for a while now.”
“Do you miss the city?”
“Not even a little bit.”
His answer surprised her, but then again, most of what she’d learned about Lawrence did. “Was it hard to move here?” It had been very difficult for her to leave her family behind, and they were only an island away.
“Not really,” he said. “My parents have been divorced for a long time. My dad had just gotten his fourth divorce, and my two younger sisters were married. My mom lives near them, and it was just me in the city.”
“Your dad doesn’t live there?”
“There wasn’t anything or anyone keeping me there.” A hint of sadness crept into his voice, and Maizee wanted to comfort him the way he had her in the kitchen. She reached over and touched his knee, the skin-to-skin contact sending a jolt through her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, yanking her hand back. She wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for—the touch or his family.
He continued eating, and she finished before him and stretched her legs out in front of her.
“I think you should know I haven’t dated anyone in a long time.” His voice barely met her ears, and it was dead silent in her little neighborhood.
“Oh.” It felt impossible that someone like him wouldn’t have a date every other night, but at the same time, he felt like the kind of person who waited until he knew what he wanted before making a move.
Maizee’s chest tightened. She wanted to make a move, kiss him, let him know she really liked him before he left tonight. Could she do that? The hive of angry bees in her stomach awakened, stinging and stabbing and buzzing the word Winn, Winn, Winn.
“How long?” she asked.
“You’d be my first girlfriend in ten years, as my friends pointed out to me earlier this week.” He looked at her, his eyes bright and a measure of determination in them.
“Oh, is that what I am? Your girlfriend?” She grinned and nudged him with her shoulder.
“You’re not?” he asked, and he was so dang cute.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, enjoying this game. Maizee had always been exceptionally good at flirting. “I think girlfriends kiss their boyfriends, and we haven’t done that, so.”
Lawrence swallowed, his eyes dropping to her mouth. “At least I know the rules now.” He switched his gaze to their surroundings again, saying nothing more.
Maizee stared at him. That was it? He wasn’t going to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless? She’d practically begged him to. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss her.
Well, she wasn’t going to ask him again, that was for sure. So she got up and said, “I’m going to grab another piece of pizza. You want anything?”
“No, thank you,” he said, his voice back to the near-whisper. Maizee walked away, embarrassment filling her from head to toe.
Ten
You want anything?
Yes, Lawrence wanted something very ba
dly, but it was not food. Or Dr. Pepper. Or a spectacular mountain view.
He wanted Maizee, and he wanted her in a way he couldn’t even classify. When several minutes went by, and she didn’t return, he stood and said to her dog, “Come on, Roger. Let’s go inside.” The little Jack Russell came with him obediently, and he called, “Maizee?” into her house before entering.
The kitchen was empty, though the pizza boxes were still open and more of the chicken barbecue had been taken. She lived in a quaint place, with plenty of space, high ceilings, and a light blue wash on the walls.
Lawrence liked the way it calmed him and made him feel like he was surrounded by the cottony texture of the sky.
Her living room was neat and orderly, and he hated that she’d felt the need to rush home and tidy up for him. He wanted to see her at her best, her worst, and everything in between. He wanted to know everything about her, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Roger barked, and Lawrence turned toward the little dog, who stood in the kitchen. “Oh, I’m not feeding you, bud,” he said, though Maizee had given him a couple of bites of her pizza. “Where’s Maizee, huh?”
Roger cocked his head, and Lawrence felt like an idiot for talking to the dog like it was a human. Then Roger trotted off, heading for the hallway like he’d go get Maizee and somehow apologize for Lawrence too.
Problem was, he wasn’t even sure what he’d done wrong. “Obviously something,” he muttered, wondering if he was going to get brownies tonight. Maizee hadn’t even started them yet, and he knew they took a while to bake and even longer to cool. So his sweet tooth wouldn’t be satisfied. The last time he’d left her house, he hadn’t been satisfied either. He wouldn’t die.
It just felt like it.
“Sorry,” Maizee said, breezing into the kitchen with an armful of baking goods. “I forgot I needed more chocolate chips out here.” She wouldn’t look at him, and she’d gone into Super-Maizee mode, just like she had when looking for the paper plates.
She banged around the kitchen, getting out a mixer and butter and eggs. It was almost painful to watch her, and Lawrence searched his brain for a way he could get her nerves to settle. He wasn’t even sure why she was so nervous in the first place.
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, looking in his general direction.
Frustration filled him, and he thought about moving right into her personal space and kissing her right now. Maybe that would get her to settle down and share the evening with him. This frantic movement and hurried glances weren’t what he wanted.
But he wasn’t brave enough to make such a bold move. Did she even want him to? She didn’t want to be his girlfriend until he kissed her, she’d said that much. But that didn’t mean she was ready for what it would take to wear the label.
So he closed the pizza boxes and stacked them on top of each other, freeing up more counter space for her. He refused to be pushed out of the kitchen though, and he unwrapped the cubes of butter and put them in the bowl.
“What’s your favorite dessert?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I like bread pudding,” he said. “There’s this shop in New York City that makes it with raspberry sauce and vanilla custard and it is so good.”
She measured brown sugar and white sugar and put them in the bowl with the butter. “I like cake,” she said.
“All cakes?”
“Chocolate is my favorite.”
“Mine too.”
Maizee started to settle down a bit, and Lawrence decided he wasn’t terrible at small talk. “I’m not a fan of carrot cake,” she said. “Unless there are no raisins. Then it’s divine.”
“You don’t like raisins?”
“I don’t think they should be in desserts. Just leave the oatmeal cookie alone, you know?”
Lawrence chuckled, glad when Maizee’s fun, playful personality started to make a reappearance. She finished putting together the brownies, swirling together the batter and enough caramel to bathe in before sticking the pan in the oven.
“Now, they bake.”
“Hmm.” He took her into his arms again, and decided to be brave again. “What did I do outside to make you scamper away?”
“Nothing,” she said, a little too quickly.
“You’re not a great liar.” He wanted her right here next to him for a good long while. “You can tell me.”
“It’ll sound stupid.”
“Maizee.” He whispered her name and simply acted. His mouth skimmed her forehead and then found her earlobe.
He melted into him, and he kept a firm grip on her waist. “I like you, Maizee,” he said, wishing his voice wasn’t quite so filled with emotion. “I want to know everything about you.” He probably shouldn’t vocalize his thoughts, and his heart hammered at him, telling him that if he said these kinds of things, it would end up broken. Shattered.
“I’m….” she said, leaning into his touch as he kissed her right below her ear. Now, if he could just get his mouth closer to hers.
“—scared,” she finished. “Remember how I’d just broken up with Winn?”
“Yes,” he whispered, pulling away. “But we weren’t talking about Winn outside.”
“You were talking about me being your girlfriend,” she said, her blue, blue eyes coming open to look into his face. He liked this serious, scared version of Maizee almost as much as the fun, flirty one. “And I want that, and it scares me.”
So she did want to kiss him. A golden glow started to radiate through him, but he kept his smile from forming fully. “So I messed up because I didn’t kiss you?”
“I did open the door for you,” she said, a sparkle coming into her expression now. “Wiiide open.”
“It’s just that you…weren’t ready on Monday,” he said. “And I don’t want to push you now. I can wait. I don’t have to call you my girlfriend until you’re ready.” Lawrence was ready, and he honestly wondered if he could do as he’d said and wait.
“Is that why you disappeared this week? Because I wouldn’t kiss you on Monday?”
“One of the reasons,” he said truthfully. “I know when to back off, Maizee. Honest, I do.” He released her and tried to step back, but she held onto him, kept him close.
She looked at him, and he looked right back. Several seconds went by, but Lawrence didn’t know what else to say. He felt like he’d laid most of his cards on the table already.
“I like you too,” she said.
Lawrence didn’t analyze anything. And he didn’t hesitate while he found his bravery. He wrapped her in his arms again, leaned down, and touched his lips to hers.
A sigh passed through his whole body, followed immediately by firecrackers and lightning. Wow, he hadn’t kissed a woman in a while, and especially not someone like Maizee. In fact, he was quite sure he’d never kissed someone like Maizee, and he simply couldn’t get enough.
He cradled her face in his hands while he kissed her, then moved them through her hair and down her back while he kept kissing her. She matched every movement of his mouth with hers, and it felt like his blood had turned to lava, the flames growing hotter with every stroke.
Before he lost control, he pulled away, his breath coming in bursts and his heart sprinting around his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was excited he’d done such a thing, or livid that he’d put it in very real danger of being broken.
It didn’t matter. For a kiss like that, he’d risk anything, even his heart.
Her eyes drifted open, and she seemed a bit glazed over still. “Wow,” she whispered, and Lawrence wanted to kiss her again.
So he did.
Lawrence ignored work—and his phone—for an entire weekend, instead choosing to spend his time with Maizee. She said she wasn’t feeling adventurous, so he took them out on his yacht where they wiled away an entire afternoon eating junk food and drinking way too much soda as they lay on their backs and let the autumn sun bake them.
&n
bsp; He checked his phone after docking and found yet another text from his father. He made a scoffing noise of disgust, and Maizee said, “What’s up?”
“Just my dad,” he said, shoving his phone in his back pocket. He watched the horizon, sort of wishing the day wasn’t ending and he could sail back out into the waves. “He’s bugging me about a deal, which of course I know about and am handling just fine.”
He didn’t want to talk about the Austin Exchange. The firm was just big enough to bring in a decent chunk of money, and Lawrence had talked to Daniel Austin earlier that week. He didn’t need to bring his father up-to-date on the acquisition, because his father had nothing to do with it.
Maizee wrapped her arms around Lawrence, which made some of his annoyance seep away into the atmosphere. “You won’t answer him?”
“I will on Monday,” he said, turning to face her. “It’s the weekend, and I’m not working every waking minute anymore.”
Honestly, Lawrence wasn’t sure who he even was anymore. He’d always loved his job, and the mere thought of an acquisition had him salivating and chomping at the bit to push it through. But looking into Maizee’s eyes, he wondered if he’d wasted a lot of years focused on the tasks in front of him instead of the people in front of him.
And so he didn’t answer his father that day, nor on Sunday, when Maizee showed up at his penthouse with more food than two people could possibly eat. And yet, they made sandwiches and put them in backpacks, and she drove them out to some of that wilderness that had piqued her interest when they’d gone to dinner at the Cattleman’s Last Stop.
And surprisingly, Lawrence didn’t hate walking along a trail barely wide enough for his feet. After getting over the feeling like bugs had invested his skin, it was a lovely walk, with a nice ocean breeze coming in off the water.
And while the sandwiches were just ham and cheese, Lawrence acted like they were fit for royalty. Maizee giggled at him, and said, “I forgot you love sandwiches.”
“So much,” he said around a mouthful of salty meat and cheese. He swallowed and added, “My mother used to make a fried bologna sandwich. She’d butter both sides of the bread, and put mayo on the inside too. Then one slice of bologna on each piece of bread, with a single slice of cheese between them.” He smacked his lips. “Perfection.”
The Brave Billionaire (Clean Billionaire Beach Club Romance Book 11) Page 7