“Did you have a deadline with me?” She sipped her hot chocolate, watching him over the rim of the cup.
“Sort of,” he admitted. She looked a little hurt, which made his gut ache, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. “You knew we were supposed to be in Belize for only eight to ten weeks. That was my timeline. But when that time passed, I was still so hung up on you, I figured I just needed more time to get you out of my head. But months later, after spending every minute with those amazing, happy people who had nothing to speak of except one another, I knew what I had to do. And yeah, I gave myself a new deadline. New Year’s Day. I knew if you were at the New Year’s Eve party, we’d wake up together the next day, which we did. And when you blew off my offer to take our relationship outside the bedroom, I gave myself a new deadline.”
She tilted her head and said, “So, your New Year’s deadline didn’t really mean anything? Seems like a character flaw to me.”
“It meant everything,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “You tried to be strong and brush off my request for a real date, but then we reconnected after the next event. You remember that one, don’t you, Wattsy? It was only two weeks ago. You couldn’t really blow me off. You made love to me the next morning in the bathroom despite knowing it would throw off your entire schedule. At that point my deadline became when you were ready. If you hadn’t agreed to go to the inn with me, I would have tried again the next day, and the next, until finally you gave in to what’s between us.”
She breathed a little harder, gazing up at him with wide, wanting eyes. “And what’s that?”
He brushed his lips over her cheek and said, “Worth waiting for.”
THE AFTERNOON BLURRED into a blustery evening, full of music, dancing, and all types of savory foods and rich chocolate dishes. It was after midnight when they finally stumbled into his loft.
“I had no idea you were such a good dancer,” she said as they shed their coats and shoes by the door.
“I had no idea you were a dirty dancer.” He kissed her on the neck as she yawned. “Aw, I wore you out today.”
“Hardly. Let’s watch a movie. I just want to put on something warm and comfy.”
He patted her ass and said, “Go. I’ll light a fire.”
Aubrey headed into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later carrying the comforter from his bed and wearing sweatpants and his favorite sweatshirt. Paige had given him the sweatshirt with JUST DO IT emblazoned across the front when he’d decided to buck the family’s Harvard legacy and attend MIT.
Aubrey climbed onto the couch and covered herself with the blanket, stifling another yawn.
“We can light the fireplace in the bedroom,” he suggested.
“No. This is great. Let’s see what’s on.”
He grabbed the remote and sat beside her. She cuddled against him as he surfed through channels. “Where’d you find that sweatshirt?”
“It was on a shelf in your closet. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I had no idea you were a snooper.”
“I noticed it when I hung my clothes up earlier.” She smiled up at him and said, “Finders keepers.”
Could she be any cuter?
“That!” She pointed at the television. “Armageddon is so good.”
“Let me guess. You have a thing for Ben Affleck.”
She made a face like he’d suggested she liked to eat dirt. “Not a chance. I have a thing for Bruce Willis. He’s my hall pass, by the way. Who’s yours?”
“I’m not telling. I know how this works. You pretend not to care, but suddenly we can’t go see movies she’s in anymore.” He pressed a kiss to her head and said, “By the way, I’m burning my Die Hard and Fifth Element DVDs.”
“You suck.”
“You weren’t complaining when I had my lips all over you this morning.”
They settled in to watch the movie, and a few minutes later she said, “Outside of work stuff, I think today might have been the best day of my life.”
He reveled in her confession, and after a while he said, “Today was the best day of my life, too. From waking up with you in my arms and making out in the movie theater, right down to dancing and seeing you in my favorite sweatshirt. I like what we’ve become, Aubrey, and I know you didn’t want to hear it last night, but I want to say it. I’m falling in love with you.” He pressed another kiss to her head and said, “Actually, I’m past that, and I don’t want to hold back anymore. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. You’re it for me, Wattsy. I love you more than I ever thought possible.”
She made a noise, and he leaned forward so he could see her face. Her jaw was slack, her eyes closed, and she was snoring softly. He chuckled softly and shook his head. “And just like that, I fall deeper in love with you…”
Chapter Fifteen
SUNDAY MORNING AUBREY hummed along to “Out of the Woods” as she cooked French toast. She’d woken up at some point in the night to Knox carrying her into the bedroom. He’d helped her change into one of his T-shirts, and she remembered his body cocooning hers. She must have fallen back to sleep, because this morning she’d woken with the sun and felt so full of energy and well rested, she was afraid she’d wake him. The sleepyhead had been out like a light when she’d snuck out of the bedroom. She’d made coffee, turned the stereo on low, and raided his kitchen.
Using the spatula like a microphone, she sang along with the stereo about a car accident and stitches.
“I had no idea I was dating Taylor Swift.”
She spun around without missing a beat and continued singing to him as she tiptoed over. He reached for her and she turned again, her back to him as she sang the chorus, shoulders and hips swaying as she circled him. He chuckled and grabbed her around the waist, showering her face and neck with kisses and making her squeal with delight. His body was still warm from sleep, and as she melted against him, she felt every hard inch of him through his dark boxer briefs.
“Morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning, handsome. I’m a much better girlfriend than Taylor Swift. She goes through boyfriends like I tear through miles during my workouts.”
He followed her to the stove and placed his hands on her waist, peering over her shoulder. “Smells almost as good as you do.”
“I hope you like French toast. Unfortunately, you live like a guy who has been staying with his girlfriend half the time.” She transferred the French toast onto two plates and said, “I found eggs, milk, butter, and beer in the fridge, and your pantry was almost as bare.”
“You’re my sustenance.” His hands slid down her hips and beneath the T-shirt. “Jesus, babe. You’re naked under here.”
“Oopsie,” she said innocently. Then she turned with a plate in each hand and said, “Breakfast is served.”
His eyes turned hungry as a wolf’s as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto the counter. “I’m ravenous.”
“Me too…”
He tore off a piece of French toast and fed it to her. “There you go, sweetheart. Enjoy your breakfast.” He knelt before her with a greedy look in his eyes and said, “I know I’m going to enjoy mine.”
He lowered his mouth between her legs, obliterating all thoughts of food. He licked, stroked, and devoured her into a writhing, trembling mess. She fisted her fingers in his hair, a stream of pleasure-filled noises escaping her lungs as he took her right up to the edge.
“Knox,” she pleaded.
Her vision blurred, her insides seared and sparked like live wires, and he finally, blissfully, sent her soaring.
When she came down from the peak she panted out, “Bedroom. Now, please.”
He lifted her off the counter, capturing her mouth as he turned to carry her out of the kitchen.
“Wait!” She snagged the syrup, earning the biggest grin she’d ever seen.
Like a man on a mission, he made a beeline into the bedroom.
Several sticky orgasms—and one shower that didn’t stay clean for long—later
, they nuked the French toast, then spent the rest of the day lazing around the loft, watching movies, stealing kisses, and catching up on emails. They ordered pizza for lunch, Chinese food for dinner, and Aubrey was completely relaxed and euphorically happy. The last thing she wanted to do was leave, but Knox was catching an early flight to L.A., and Aubrey had an eight o’clock breakfast meeting with Zane Walker and his wife, Willow, about his upcoming movie. She couldn’t chance being late by staying in the city. She told herself it would probably be only a few days before she saw Knox again, and she certainly could make it on her own. But she didn’t know how to handle the emptiness forming like lead inside her at the prospect of spending that time without him. It felt needy and weak, and she didn’t like that at all.
She was folding her clothes, trying to pull herself together, when Knox carried her suitcase into the bedroom and set it on the bed.
“Why don’t you leave some stuff here for next time?” He picked up her black lace bra and said, “Surely you won’t need this in Port Hudson while I’m gone.”
She snagged it from him. “I need it for the Gratitude Ball next weekend, and God only knows what shape it would be in when I got it back.” She threw it into the suitcase and flopped down on the edge of the bed. Her chest constricted, and it just kept getting worse, like she was already missing him so much her heart was swelling, taking up every ounce of space inside her.
What is going on with me?
He sat beside her and said, “We can FaceTime while I’m in L.A. I’m sure we can come up with the best use of that black lace bra without tearing it to shreds.”
She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “FaceTime sex? That’d be a first for me.”
He kissed her cheek and said, “Me too, Wattsy. The truth is, I like seeing your stuff here, mixed with mine. It’ll make me feel closer to you when I’m back in town, on the nights when I’m stuck here in the city and you’re in Port Hudson.” He reached for his favorite sweatshirt, which was among her things, and set it in her lap. “You can take this if you’d like.”
“I was going to wear it home.”
He chuckled.
“Finders keepers, remember?” she said quietly. “So, you’ll be gone for a few days?”
“Probably. But you know we’ll talk every day. I’m going to need my Aubrey fixes. As soon as I know when I’ll be heading home, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, well…” She pushed to her feet, feeling flustered and edgy, and went back to folding her clothes, trying to play it cool. “Did I tell you Becca has the perfect dress for the ball? She’s even got a headpiece. I texted a picture of it to Paige, and she loved it, too. I hope you don’t get held up in L.A. and have to miss the ball Saturday night. Paige and your mom are thrilled that we’re coming.”
He pushed to his feet and took a pair of jeans from her hands. “You’ve folded and refolded the same pair of jeans twice, and you’re talking faster than I can listen. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just excited about the ball.” She tried to take the jeans from him, but he held on tight. She lifted her gaze, meeting his worried eyes.
“Talk to me, Aubrey.” He set the jeans on the bed.
Her chest constricted again, and she turned away, speaking through gritted teeth. “God. I hate this so much.”
“Then leave it all here. I told you I’d rather you did that anyway.”
She spun around with her heart in her throat and said, “It’s not the stupid clothes. I’m going to miss you. Okay? A lot. And it makes me feel all…” Her shoulders rose, and she squirmed.
“Out of balance?” he asked, pulling her into his arms. “Like you have no control for the first time in your life and you can’t figure out what to do with that bizarre feeling?” His eyes narrowed. “You kind of want to outrun it, but at the same time you know that would only make it worse?”
She buried her face in his chest and nodded.
“I hate to tell you this, Aubrey, but there’s no outrunning what you’re feeling. Trust me. I went halfway around the world trying to do just that.”
She looked up at him and said, “I hate you for doing this to me.”
“I have a feeling hate is not the word you’re looking for.”
Her heart raced. “Maybe it’s not the right word, but if this is”—love—“what being together makes me feel like, then I need to rethink everything.” She began pacing. “How can I work when my heart feels like a cannonball? It’s not like you’re moving away! You’re leaving town for work. No big deal, right? Right! This is nuts. It’s utterly and completely idiotic that I could get this way just thinking about missing you.” She began throwing her belongings into the suitcase. She didn’t want to take her stuff. She just wanted to feel normal again, in control. She groaned, dumping the suitcase on the bed. “I’m leaving it all here. All of it. Do you care?”
His fingers circled her wrist, and he sat on the bed, bringing her down on his lap. He smiled up at her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She must look like a madwoman, because she sure felt like one.
“Breathe, Wattsy. Just take a deep breath with me, okay?” He inhaled slowly, and she rolled her eyes. “Please? For me?”
He inhaled again, and to humor him, she did, too.
“Good. I just wanted to be sure you were still in there somewhere, still able to process what I’m going to say next.”
“Please don’t! Don’t say something so big that I lose my mind.”
“I think I know you well enough to know when to hold back and when not to. Aubrey Stewart of the football dynasty, not the Stewart soda company, you are a brilliant woman. You can negotiate the hell out of business contracts and bring men to their knees with a single sideways glance. I have faith in your ability to pull up your big-girl panties and accept that thing we’re not talking about. And you have to know that’s horribly difficult for me to say, because now I’m thinking about pulling down those big-girl panties and not talking at all.”
She touched her forehead to his and sighed. “Are you for real? Or are you a figment of my imagination, because I didn’t think men like you really existed.”
“They don’t.” He pressed his warm hands to her face and looked directly into her eyes as he said, “I’m the only one, and lucky for you, I’m all yours.”
Chapter Sixteen
“JUST TO RECAP,” Becca said to Aubrey as they left the conference room Friday afternoon. “I’m going to schedule a meeting with Salvatore for early next week and find out the availability of your top three casting agents for Zane’s film. And what about the Monroe House? Any word on that yet?” Salvatore was a sought-after director.
“Ugh. I forgot to tell you.”
“You’ve been pretty distracted this week.”
“No kidding. Knox is meeting with Landon tomorrow before the ball, but just in case Landon’s still on the fence, Knox offered to see my second choice while he was in L.A.”
“The Brookstone? And…?” Becca asked. She looked like she’d walked off the set of I Love Lucy. Her hair was in a sleek half updo with her signature victory rolls above her forehead, and she wore a vintage midcalf-length black dress with three-quarter sleeves and a peekaboo triangle of black-and-white polka dots from hem to waist. Cherry-red lipstick completed the look.
“It’s not the Monroe House, but it’ll do. I appreciate Knox trying to work things out with Landon, but we really can’t wait any longer. If there’s no decision tomorrow, we’ll make do with the Brookstone.”
“Got it,” Becca said. “I’m glad you’re closing in on a decision because Char’s fans are going crazy about the movie. I can’t wait to announce the leads. Her social media pages have been blowing up for months.” Becca handled all of Charlotte’s social media pages so Charlotte could focus on writing.
“Once the location is nailed down and dates have been confirmed, you can announce the leads.”
The elevator doors opened as they walked past, and Presley barreled out
, colliding with Aubrey. She had a mouthful of food and held a monstrous cookie in one hand.
“Geez, Pres!”
“Sorry,” she said, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Don’t judge me. I’ve got an author who’s going to miss her deadline.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a grouchy boss who hasn’t been with her man for nearly a week.” Becca held out her hand, palm up.
Presley broke off a piece of the cookie and handed it to Becca, who popped it into her mouth and said, “Thank you. I’m going to get things ready. How late are we working tonight?”
“I’m not working late,” Aubrey said anxiously. “Knox’s flight arrives at six, and then he’s coming over. I want to surprise him with dinner for Valentine’s Day, and I’ve got to run to the grocery store first. I’ll probably take off around four.”
Becca’s jaw dropped open. “You’re leaving early? Wow. If I’d known all it would take is a hot guy for you to leave work early, I’d have paid Knox to live here.”
“Good for you, Aubs. I guess that means no drinks with me and Libby, either. That makes three weeks in a row,” Presley pointed out.
“I know, but that’s why we had drinks Wednesday night, remember?” Those drinks had helped loosen her up for her and Knox’s steamy FaceTime session. She’d been forcing herself to focus on work and had been greatly productive, but every night when they hung up the phone, she missed him even more. When he suggested a little video-chat playtime, she’d been more than ready. That night she’d slept like a baby all wrapped up in his cozy sweatshirt.
“Besides, your man owns the bar where we have drinks,” Aubrey pointed out. “It’s not like you’re giving up a night with him, like I would have to with Knox. I have to run, though. I’ve got to make a few calls before leaving. Good luck with the author. I’ll tell Trinity to work you double time this weekend to rid you of that stress.”
Making You Mine: Knox and Aubrey (The Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill - Oak Falls) Book 5) Page 18