Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
M ary woke, her muscles loose and languid. She pointed her toes under the soft sheets, then reached up to touch the headboard for a stretch.
Morning, beautiful, Alex rumbled.
He lay with his arms folded under his head, smiling smugly at the ceiling. He was gorgeous, even with his hair rumpled and a crease across his cheek from the pillow.
From the curl that stubbornly poked into her peripheral vision, she suspected she looked anything but beautiful. She hadn t thought to bundle her hair into a scarf or even a ponytail on top of her head.
I m not the expert here, but doesn t the sweet-talking usually happen before the sex?
He rolled toward her. Who says we re not about to have sex?
Morning sex? She hadn t done that in a while. How was her breath? She lifted the sheet up over her mouth.
Okay. He chuckled. Maybe not yet. How are you feeling?
Mmm. Well rested is the term people use, I think?
Faster than she d have thought possible, his arm was around her, and he nuzzled her neck. Or is it well fucked?
She laid her hands on the back of his head and held him there, enjoying the sensation of his lips on her skin. Definitely both.
What do you say to a walk on the beach before breakfast? His voice came from below her shoulder.
I think if you keep going, we re not going to make it to the beach before lunchtime.
Ah, but you see, I ve got it all planned out. He sat up. Walk, breakfast, shower sex, nap?—
Wait. Did you just list shower sex?
Playfully, he raised an eyebrow. Did you just interrupt my itinerary?
She squeezed her thighs together. Sorry.
While you re napping, I ll work for an hour or so. Then we ll drive to the boardwalk for lunch, perhaps some shopping if you re into it. We ll come back here, where I ll ravish you again, probably in that chair over there —he tipped his chin at a leather armchair she hadn t noticed last night— and by then it ll be time for drinks on the deck before the chef comes to make us dinner.
She propped herself up on an elbow. You have our whole day planned, down to the sex position we ll use this afternoon?
What can I say? I like to think ahead.
You mean you like to be in control of everything.
You didn t complain last night.
No, she d been too busy orgasming. But it was different in the daylight. Heat surged up from her chest to her face, and she scrambled to sit up. Just because I liked the way you fucked me doesn t mean I want you to control every part of my day. What about spontaneity? What about what I want to do? Need to do?
He blinked like she d slapped him. She wasn t sure if it was because she d used a crude word or because she hadn t been willing to cede control over the part of her life she spent out of bed. She didn t care, either. She was an adult, perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Her own plans.
She scooted to the other side of the bed. I m going to call my brothers.
What, to come get you? he snapped. They don t need to do that. I ll?—
Stop. She paused at the edge of the bed, her back to him. Took a deep breath. All I want to do is check in on the shop. After I talk to them and to my new assistant, I m all yours. Why don t you check in at work, too? Then we can plan out the day. Together. Or just do what we feel like. As I understand it, there s this concept called go with the flow that people sometimes use on vacation.
When she peeked back at him, his dark eyebrows had drawn together, but he didn t look angry anymore. I could use a minute to check on Mama.
Good. I m going to squeeze in a shower, too. Let s meet in the kitchen in an hour. We can agree on what to do next.
Okay.
She tried not to worry about how the light hit her naked body as she circled the bed and lightly kissed him. See you in an hour.
He grasped her hand. We re okay?
She remembered this from high school. He didn t have siblings, so he didn t know how to argue with someone he cared about. How to give themselves space and come back together.
She squeezed his hand. We re great.
* * *
Mary refused the glass of sparkling wine the steward offered her. She needed to stay sharp to deal with today s disaster. While he was fetching her a bottle of water, she muttered, I m sorry we had to cut our vacation short.
It s fine. It s only a day. The groove between Alex s eyebrows belied his words. Did you have a good time?
She grasped his hand across the wide armrest between their seats in the private jet. The best.
Their two days on the beach had been glorious. Alex had many ideas about how they d spend their time, but they d talked it over and decided together. They d walked on the beach, eaten dinner on the deck with the sea breeze kissing her face, and even driven into town to watch a romantic comedy that neither of her brothers would be caught dead buying tickets for. Alex had handed over his card with a smile and held her hand in the theater.
And the sex? Pure magic. Especially the time he d bent her over the arm of that leather chair. She wished she had room for one like it in her house. Though she d have a difficult time explaining to her family why no one could ever sit in it.
The only low point—aside from that one weird morning-after—had been when Evie had called today at noon to tell her about a crisis with Teagan and Twyla s wedding. The caterer they d chosen had failed to renew their liquor license on time, and now it was tangled in red tape. With the wedding only two weeks away, she couldn t leave it to luck and the local alcohol permit authority. She d need to find a separate liquor caterer, fast.
Evie had offered to handle it, but Mary wouldn t be able to relax with the crisis looming over her. So she d asked Alex if they could go back today so she could line up some caterers to visit tomorrow before the shop opened.
If you tell me about this emergency at the shop, he said, maybe I can help.
It s, um, not really a shop emergency. It s my other business.
The Richardson wedding? He sat up straighter. What happened?
Rochelle s wedding is fine. She rubbed his suddenly tense shoulder. It s my other wedding.
Your other wedding?
She didn t love the way his jaw had gone rigid. I have two, actually. Cierra Dallencourt s wedding in August—I think you know her—and one more. She knew for a fact he knew Cierra since they d dated a couple years ago. And Alex had recommended Forza Elite Motors when Cierra s sister had gotten married. She wanted a classic Rolls-Royce just like Princess Kate. Mary had set her up with a white 1961 Rolls-Royce Phantom V that her dad had lovingly restored back in the day. The bride had been over the moon, and Mary and Cierra had remained friendly ever since. When she d mentioned her wedding planning side hustle last spring, Cierra had hired her on the spot.
Cierra s wedding is you? Was the aerialist your idea?
She said she wanted something that d stand out, and I know someone.
Of course you do. And it ll keep everyone entertained. No one will forget her wedding, which is one-hundred percent what Cierra would want. I wish you d let me add something similar to the Richardson wedding. Rochelle s going to hate being upstaged by Cierra Dallencourt.
Mary tilted her head. Will she? Or is that you who doesn t want to be upstaged by your ex?
Cierra? He shrugged. I couldn t care less about her or her wedding. So what s the emergency?
She narrowed her eyes, not sure she bought Alex s sudden carelessness. The emergency isn t with Cierra s wedding. It s another one. Which is in a couple weeks.
A couple weeks? When? His stare was flinty like he already knew.
The weekend before Rochelle s. But it s fine. I ve got them both handled.
Two weddings in the span of a week? No wonder you re so stressed out. We should ve gone to the spa like I suggested.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. I was plenty relaxed on my vacation. Besides, a masseuse might ve asked about the —she lowered her voice— beard burn on my boobs.
He rubbed his smooth chin. Maybe I should check it out.
It s fine now. She squeezed his hand. Besides, it s only an hour to Vegas.
He leaned closer. There s a couch in the back. We can ask the steward to go up with the pilot.
The mile-high club would be another first. Would it be worth all the guilt as she said goodbye to the pilot and the steward at the end of the flight if they knew she d been naked on their plane?
A ping from her phone saved her from the decision. She scanned the screen. Oh no.
What s wrong?
Now there is an issue at the shop. One of our customers got in a fender bender with Christie Brinkley.
Wait. Actually with Christie Brinkley?
No. It s a vintage red Ferrari. Like she drove in National Lampoon s Vacation.
Is everyone all right?
She read the latest message. Fine. But Michael and E—my assistant had to go pick it up.
Good. He sipped his sparkling wine. You name all your cars?
Every one. It s more fun that way. Our dad started it with the Clinton, his first town car.
Smiling, he shook his head. Fun and business don t really go together in my world.
I can t imagine not laughing at least once a day at work.
You re more naturally vivacious than I am. He wound one of her curls around his finger.
You don t have to be vivacious to laugh at work. You just need to take yourself less seriously.
I don t think that would fly in my line of work. I have to maintain a certain…presence.
Customers enjoy working with people they like. We ve had customers come back year after year for prom, weddings, parties, even funerals.
And I ve found that people don t mess with people they fear.
She shook her head. No wonder Evie seemed so much happier working at Forza Elite Motors. Except for when she had to interact with Michael, who also had a certain presence. A grumpy one. Someday you should try it. Let loose. See if it works.
He leaned in to kiss the spot below her earlobe that sent tingles straight between her legs. I let loose with you this week. That s enough for me.
She shivered. It was pretty good for me too.
Pretty good? He licked a line down her neck.
Okay, pretty fabulous.
Better. He pulled back. I ll send Joey to the shop tomorrow morning to help you. He ll work out whatever issue you ve got with this other wedding. In fact, you should offload the whole thing to him so you can focus on the Richardson wedding.
No, I couldn t possibly ask?—
Don t worry, I ll pay him overtime. Consider him a gift.
The Trojan horse was a gift, too. If she let Joey into the shop, he d see Evie working for her, and Joey would report back to Alex. Alex would assume Evie was working on the Richardson wedding. Was that the true purpose of the gift? To look into how she ran her business? The back of her neck prickled. He d all but admitted he was ruthless about his hotel empire.
No, thank you. She folded her hands in her lap. I have all the help I need.
He shrugged like he didn t care, but his steely jaw told the truth. Fine. I can help you in other ways.
What other ways? she asked.
I understand orgasms reduce cortisol levels. I ll just have to reduce your stress levels through the power of organic chemistry.
She shivered. Stress reduction sounds good.
So do lots and lots of orgasms.
He was right, as usual.