Chapter Thirty-Seven
Izzy
How was Blake’s bed so unbelievably comfortable?
I opened my eyes and sighed happily, my head on the soft pillow, my body buried by the heavy down duvet. I was floating in a sea of dream bedding, bobbing in an ocean of warm comfort that smelled like fresh linens, and I didn’t want to ever get up.
I rolled over, grabbed my glasses from the nightstand, and put them on. It was dark and I was alone in the bed, but when I sat up, I could see that Blake was in the huge walk-in closet on the other side of the room.
He was standing in front of the full-length mirror in suit pants and a dress shirt, tying his tie. Dear Lord, the breadth of that perfect chest. His hair was damp, his feet were bare, and I found myself incredibly smitten as I watched him perform the daily task of getting dressed.
So, this is how Blake transforms into VP Blake.
There was just something so… intimate about watching him ready himself for work. I froze, careful not to move a muscle and ruin the routine by interrupting. I wanted to memorize every mundane task for future mental playback. He turned to a stack of drawers that were built into the closet, and pulled out a rolled-up pair of socks.
“Good morning, Shay,” he said, not looking at me. His voice was scratchy, like he hadn’t used it yet, and something about it made me feel warm.
“How’d you know?” I asked, pulling up my knees and wrapping my arms around my legs. “I was so quiet.”
He exited the closet, giving me an amused look as he walked toward the bed with only that sliver of light illuminating the room. “That’s how I knew. Are you aware of the fact that you are never motionless—like, ever—when you’re asleep?”
I shrugged. “I maybe toss and turn a little .”
“I damn near got seasick,” he teased, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside me.
“Did I keep you up?” I asked, wondering how he could look so perfect at six twenty-three in the morning.
“Nah. Your constant motion just served as a reminder that Isabella Shay was in my bed, which made me sleep like a fucking baby.”
That made me smile, and then my heart grew three sizes in my chest when he leaned closer and gave me a sweet peck on the mouth, the kind of kiss a man placed on his partner’s lips every morning before their days began.
“So, what are your plans for today?” he asked, turning his attention to his socks. Blake unrolled the pair, propped his left foot on his right knee, and pulled on the first sock. “Pizza in bed?”
I switched on the lamp and got up, stretching before walking over to the master bathroom. “I’m going to apply for as many jobs as I can, go for a long run outside, and perhaps take a nap because someone didn’t let me get any sleep last night.”
I flipped on the bathroom light and looked in the mirror. Gah—my hair was everywhere. I grabbed Blake’s brush and attempted to get my bedhead under control.
“I’m not sorry, and also, I was thinking I can walk to work today so you can use my car.”
I glanced over at him through the doorway. “I’m not going to take your car.”
“Why not?” He got up from the bed and walked back over to the closet. “You can use it all day, and then I’ll just force you to pick me up after work and stay over at my place again.”
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me blissfully happy. “You shouldn’t have to walk to work, and also, um, you drive an Audi.”
I heard him doing something in his closet as he said, “So?”
I turned on the water and put soap in my hands. “So it’s too nice.”
I started washing my face, in love with the smell of his soap, the clean minimalism of his bathroom, and even the fact that his expensive watch was sitting on the vanity beside a bottle of cologne. I felt like I was surrounded by Blake, and it was perfection.
I was just leaning down to splash water over my cheeks and wash away the suds when he appeared behind me in the mirror.
“Is it weird that I’m kind of into the idea of you borrowing my car?” His eyes were crinkly around the edges, his mouth soft as he met my eyes in the mirror. “Yeah, it’s weird.”
I turned around, my face covered in soapy lather, and I said, “Do you know how busy I want to get with you when you’re weird?”
That made him full on smile and give his head a shake. “Didn’t we talk about the phrase getting busy ?”
I ran a hand over his tie and the hard chest underneath it. “Sorry. What I meant to say was—do you know how bangable you are when you’re digging me?”
“Digging you.” Blake put his hand over mine, trapping it against his sternum. “What if you drive me to work, then take the car to your place?”
I could’ve died of happiness when Blake stood there like that, not trying to be cool about wanting to see me again. I said, “I guess that works, but only if you promise not to get mad if I drive too fast.”
He laughed, a rumbly chuckle that came from deep within his chest. “I cannot make that promise.”
“Well, then I cannot—”
“For the love of God, Iz, rinse off the soap,” he interrupted, laughing a little harder as he put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. “Before you get foam everywhere.”
I laughed, too, when I saw the big blobs of soap that were dangling precariously, about to drip off my face. My giggles got stuck in my throat, though, when I raised my eyes to his. Heat, warmth, and something more—wonderfully, perfectly more—hovered between us.
“I’m going to go take care of the boys before you distract me and make me late,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Think you’ll be ready to go in twenty?”
I nodded and turned the water back on. “Yep.”
“Want to stop for a latte on the way, Amy?”
“You know that I do, Chest.”