The Summer Proposal

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The Summer Proposal Page 19

by Keeland, Vi


  “I told her at least a few bedrooms. My family likes to come visit. And my financial manager said I should be prepared to hang onto anything I buy for seven to ten years. So I figured…” Max shrugged. “You know…down the road I might need more space.”

  Down the road. He meant in a few years when he’d probably have a family to fill all this empty space. Of course, it made sense to buy a house you could grow into, but the idea that he’d be growing with someone else hit hard. There was a difference between renting a one- or two-bedroom bachelor-pad apartment like he had now and buying a multimillion-dollar home. That meant permanency, planting roots three-thousand miles away.

  The real estate agent wandered into the bedroom. “What do you think?”

  “It’s great,” Max said. “Would you mind giving us maybe ten minutes to talk in private?”

  “Of course.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “I have some phone calls to return. Why don’t I go outside and give you some time to talk? I’ll be in the front when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once the real estate agent was out of earshot, I asked, “Are you interested in this one?”

  Max shook his head. “Nah. It’s nice, but I feel like I’m in a doctor’s office. Too modern and sterile.”

  I laughed. “So why did you tell her we needed to talk in private?”

  “Because you’re not smiling anymore.” One of his hands dropped to the hem of my sundress and dipped underneath, slipping between my thighs. “I’m going to put that smile back on your face.”

  My eyes widened. “I am not having sex with you on someone else’s balcony.”

  “Of course not.” He gripped my waist and guided me to turn back around before his lips moved to my ear. “I’m just going to make you come with my hand. I’ll fuck you properly when we get back to the hotel. We’ll just take the edge off.”

  “Max…”

  I’d started to protest, but he fisted a hand full of my hair and tugged my head back. “I won’t let anyone see you,” he groaned in my ear. “You’re totally covered from behind, and no one can see my hand under your dress.” Without giving me time to respond, he slid his hand up, pulled my panties to the side, and rubbed gentle circles around my clit. “Spread your legs a little wider.”

  When I didn’t immediately respond, he tugged harder on my hair, and my body sparked to life. “Open and hold onto the railing with two hands. Don’t let go.”

  Whatever trepidation I had disappeared, right along with my shame. I spread my legs and grabbed the rail.

  Max’s voice was gruff as he ran his fingers up and down the length of me. “You’re so wet for me already.” He slipped one finger inside and glided in and out a few times before adding a second. “Someday soon, I want to watch you do this to yourself. Lie on my bed, legs spread wide apart, and put your fingers inside yourself. Will you do that for me?”

  I nodded. In the moment, I would have told him I’d do anything he asked. My body was climbing so fast and furious, I just needed another minute. Max pulled his fingers all the way out and plunged back in with three. And suddenly I didn’t need those sixty seconds after all. He pumped once, then twice, and then I was falling over the edge. I hadn’t even realized I’d made a sound until a hand covered my mouth.

  After, I’d barely caught my breath when Max turned me around.

  He smiled. “Better?”

  When I didn’t respond, he chuckled. “Come on. Let me clean you up in the bathroom before the agent comes looking for us.”

  Two hours later, we were back in Max’s hotel suite and had sex for the second time today. I laid with my head on his chest while he stroked my hair.

  “Will you come back with me next month to help find an apartment?” he asked.

  “If I can. Can I get back to you about it?”

  He chuckled. “Sure.”

  “What are you laughing about?”

  “You should’ve been a man. You’ve perfected the art of not committing to anything.”

  I sighed. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll keep working on you. Do you like California?”

  I propped my chin on top of my hands to answer. “I do. The weather is great, and I love the canyons and all the different topography. But I also love the four seasons of New York and all its energy. And I hate to drive. What about you? Are you going to miss New York?”

  Max stroked my hair. “I’ll miss three of the four seasons. And the pizza. But I prefer to drive than take public transportation. How often do you come out here for business?”

  “Two or three times a year.”

  Max nodded. He stared into my eyes for a long time. “I’ll also miss you.”

  Being out here was a stark reminder of what was coming at the end of the summer. If it made me feel this emotional now, how would I feel then? Refusing to get upset, I turned my head and kissed his heart. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  CHAPTER 19

  * * *

  Max

  “What can I get you to drink, Max?” Celia Gibson walked over to the bar on the covered patio in her backyard. “Would you like more wine, or do you prefer an after-dinner drink?”

  “More wine would be great.” I looked around at the sprawling landscape, which included a large, glass greenhouse at the far corner. The lights were on, and I could see her husband and Georgia talking inside.

  Celia came to stand next to me, passing me a glass of wine. “So I know you’re not officially on our roster yet, but can I solicit you for a charity event that’s near and dear to my heart anyway?”

  “Of course.”

  “In early August, before practices start, I run a charity exhibition hockey game. This will be my eighth year. Since we’re the team in the celebrity mecca of the universe, it’s Hollywood stars vs. pros. People get a kick out of it, and you’d be surprised how many celebrities are die-hard hockey fans and get into it. All of the money from ticket sales and advertising revenue goes to the National Alzheimer’s Foundation. Both my mother and Miles’s father had the horrible disease.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d love to be part of it.”

  “Good. I’ll have my assistant send you the dates and some free tickets for Georgia or anyone you want to invite.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We looked back over to the greenhouse. Celia sipped her wine and smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be seeing your Georgia for a while. People always assume the flower garden is mine, not my husband’s. I guess it’s a strange combination. His passions are his beloved hockey team and flowers. Once Miles gets someone into his greenhouse, he talks their ear off for at least a half hour.”

  I smiled. “Roses are Georgia’s thing. She won’t mind.”

  Celia motioned to the furniture behind us. “Why don’t we have a seat?” After we got comfortable, she smiled. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but it’s nice that Georgia has a thing. I’ve seen a lot of wives and girlfriends move out here with their significant others. Some give up their career, and some are young and didn’t establish their own career before jumping into the hockey lifestyle with their partner. But the ones that last, at least from what I’ve seen, are the ones where the partner has something important of their own to tend to. As you know, players are on the road half the year. Many start out with their partner following along to every city, and that’s fun for a while. But it starts to lose its luster, or kids come and the constant travel isn’t feasible anymore. Don’t get me wrong, kids are a full-time job. But a woman who has her own thing, something she’s passionate about, that helps them keep their identity. Trust me, it’s very easy to become a Mrs. Gibson or Mrs. Yearwood and forget you’re also a Celia or a Georgia.”

  I nodded. “I get it.”

  “Georgia’s headquarters are on the East Coast, right?”

  “New York.”

  “Is she planning on moving out here with you?”

  “No, she’s not.”

  “When Miles and
I first met, I’d just opened my own real estate brokerage firm in Chicago. I’d worked for a company for six years and wanted to expand into property management, which my old company didn’t do. I took three of my real estate agent friends with me and hung out a shingle with only enough money to pay my rent and their salaries for three months. So it was sink or swim, but I loved every minute of the hustle.” She smiled. “I met Miles at a party. We went out a few times when he was in town, but he was a busy man, so it wasn’t that often. At some point, he asked me if I’d consider moving to California where his business was located, in order to give things a real shot. I asked him if he would consider moving to Chicago, where mine was located. Needless to say, we hit a stalemate.”

  “How did you work it out?”

  “We didn’t at first. We split up for six months. Eventually he showed up at my office and asked me where I did my negotiating. I showed him into the conference room, and we brokered a deal. He bought an apartment in Chicago, and we split our time—four days a week in one city and three in the other. It was doable because I could shift all my showings and in-person things to fill up a few days and save my office work for the days I was in California.”

  “How long did that last?”

  She sipped her wine. “A few years. I actually fell in love with Southern California. There’s no comparison in December, that’s for sure. So I decided to move, but I didn’t give up my Chicago office. I just promoted an agent to manage the day-to-day things there and expanded into California. I only sold the brokerage a few years back.” She smiled. “It was my thing.”

  Too bad long distance was the least of the problems with Georgia and me. I liked Celia, but I wasn’t about to go into detail and explain the rest of the shit we had going on. She actually reminded me of Georgia in some ways, which was why I knew the best way to manage this conversation was to agree and steer it away from a debate of any sort.

  So I nodded. “We both have a lot to think about in the coming months.”

  • • •

  “Fifty-Seventh Street?” The driver looked in the rearview mirror.

  Georgia and I hadn’t talked about our plans once we landed back in New York. But I wanted her in my bed—that wasn’t a question for me. So I turned to her. “My place?”

  “I think I need to go home. I have an early meeting tomorrow that I need to prep for, and I don’t even have my laptop with me. You’re welcome to stay at my place.”

  “Can’t. I didn’t book the dog sitters for tonight. Plus, I’ve been neglecting them.”

  Georgia nodded. “We could both use some actual sleep anyway. Neither of us tends to get much when we share a bed.”

  I grinned. “I’ll take fucking you and being tired over sleeping alone any day.”

  The driver was still waiting for an answer. Georgia gave me the wide-eyed, silent shut-up warning. I chuckled and leaned forward to give him her address.

  “Thanks for coming this weekend.” I leaned back and took her hand.

  “I’m glad I came. I had fun. And I can check be spontaneous off my list of things to work on.”

  “Maggie had to get you liquored up and talk you into it.” I shrugged. “But yeah, let’s go with spontaneous.”

  She laughed. “Well, it’s spontaneous for me. What are your plans for this week?”

  “I have a meeting with my business manager tomorrow, I think. Tuesday I have to go up to Providence, Rhode Island, for a photo shoot.”

  “More underwear that you’ll have to fluff up your bulge with a contraption?” She grinned.

  “No, thank God. It’s a cologne ad. Depending on how late it goes, I might go by my brother’s in Boston for a quick visit. I haven’t decided if I’m flying or driving yet. What about you?”

  “The usual…tons of meetings, emails, production scheduling. I also have to take a ride out to our distribution center in Jersey City this week. We’re getting our first shipment of inventory for some new products, so I want to go make sure everything comes in at the quality we ordered. We’re also having some billboards put up the next day along the Jersey Turnpike, so I might ask Maggie to come and take a ride to see how those look after.”

  “Will you have time for dinner one night?”

  Her face softened. “I’ll make time.”

  When we pulled up at her apartment, I told the driver to give me fifteen minutes so I could walk her up. I grabbed both our bags from the trunk and started to follow her, but after seeing her ass in those yoga pants, I asked her to give me a minute and jogged back to the driver.

  “Do you have to pick up someone else?”

  He shook his head. “You’re my last ride of the day.”

  “Good.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket, peeled off a few bills, and held them out to him. “Is it a problem if I’m more than fifteen minutes?”

  The driver looked down at the Benjamins and shook his head. “Not a problem at all.”

  “Thanks.” I jogged back to Georgia.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Did I mention your ass looks spectacular in those pants? It almost makes me want to do that dumb yoga class with you again. Almost.”

  She laughed. “What does my ass have to do with the driver?”

  “I paid him to stay in case you let me in to tap it.”

  Georgia’s nose wrinkled. “Tap it?”

  “What? Not eloquent enough for you? How about in case you let me bang you?”

  “Yuck.”

  “Put the bread in the oven?”

  She laughed.

  I opened the door to her building. “Pork you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Slap skins? Shag? Boink? Bump uglies? How about raw-dogging it?”

  “Keep going.” She pushed the elevator button, but smiled. “The only thing you’re going to be bumping is your palm.”

  “Ah. You want something more mature sounding. Make whoopie? Copulate? Fornicate? Do the hanky-panky?”

  We stepped off the elevator, and she laughed as she dug out her keys. “I think you may have wasted that money asking the driver to wait.”

  I grabbed a handful of her ass as she unlocked the door. It opened, and we fell inside, both laughing. “How about fuck? That’s a classic. I’d like to fuck the shit out of you, Georgia.”

  I dropped her bag on the floor and wrapped my hands around her waist, ready to peel those sexy-as-shit yoga pants off her body.

  But Georgia froze. Her laughing abruptly stopped.

  “Gabriel? What are you doing here?”

  • • •

  “I’m sorry.” The asswipe rubbed the back of his neck. “I texted you, but you didn’t answer.”

  Georgia shook her head. “My phone was on airplane mode. I must’ve forgotten to turn it back on. But why are you here?”

  “I came to talk to you. You weren’t home, and I still have my key. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  My eyes zeroed in on a suitcase. I folded my arms across my chest. “It’s New York City. There are hotels on every corner.”

  He looked at Georgia. “I just want to talk to you. I’ll go to a hotel after if that’s what you want.”

  If that’s what you want. This fucker walked out on her months ago and had the balls to let himself in? He apologized, yet his territorial stance told me he felt like he had every right to come back.

  He was taller than I’d expected from the picture I’d seen, and in better shape. But I’d crush him without breaking a sweat, if it came to that. At the moment, I kind of hoped it did.

  But instead, the guy took a step toward me and extended his hand. “I’m Gabriel Alessi. I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted your evening.”

  I made no attempt to move.

  Georgia sized up the situation and put her hand on my arm. “Max, do you think we can talk for a moment?”

  I looked over at her, but said nothing. She nodded toward her bedroom. “In my room. Do you think we can talk in there?”

  I glar
ed at the guy for a good, long while before nodding. I was pissed. It felt like smoke should be coming from my nose. But when I followed Georgia in and she looked up at me with tears welling in her eyes, the ache in my chest made me bend. I couldn’t handle any woman crying, but especially not Georgia when she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said.

  I blew out a rush of air and nodded. “What do you want to do?”

  “Honestly, I want to curl up in my bed and just go to sleep.”

  “Do you want to talk to him?”

  She looked down for a long time. “I’d like to know why he’s here.”

  To me, it was obvious. The fucker wanted to put her on ice for more than a year and have his fun. But the minute he found out she was putting herself out there and not sitting at home crying, he’d hopped on the first plane to New York. “Do you want me to leave?”

  She was quiet again. “I don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind to be with either of you. You have been nothing but good to me since the moment we met, and I’m not going to disrespect you by having you walk out of my apartment while another man is sitting in my living room, a man you know I have a past with. I’d also rather not spend time with you while my head is spinning and I’m emotional over Gabriel coming back. So I think it’s best if I tell Gabriel I’ll meet him tomorrow somewhere, and he and I can talk.”

  While I would have preferred to have her tell me to toss the guy out on his ass, her solution was fair. I’d come into this knowing he was on the sidelines and would come back into play at some point. I just didn’t expect it to be today, that was for sure. But I respected Georgia’s decision, and I also hated that she looked like she was going to break if I did anything but agree.

  So I nodded and opened my arms to her. “Okay. Come here.”

  She melted into me. I held her tightly for as long as I could, then kissed the top of her head. “Call me if you want to talk, okay?”

  She forced a smile and nodded. “Thank you, Max.”

 

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