32. Alessandra
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
alessandra
I’m in trouble.
My time here was supposed to be fleeting.
In and out. I’d try to connect with my blood relatives once, and if they weren’t interested, farewell Sutton Bay .
The restaurant wasn’t a mindless investment, but an opportunity to be here.
Meaning , the relationships I built with the employees would be surface level.
That’s not to say I’d neglect my responsibilities as the owner, but since being here, it’s clear they don’t need me.
If all fails with Martin and my birth father, at least I was able to save a family-owned business.
Watching Booth’s muscular, naked body climb into the steaming bathtub is also a win.
Our situationship definitely isn’t surface level.
The most unnerving part?
I’m not drowning below the surface.
I float effortlessly with him.
I hate that this can’t be permanent.
His deep groans pull me from my inner turmoil.
My blood heats as his tight ass, perfectly round, disappears into the bubbles and he settles against the tub.
With his eyes closed, he blindly reaches for me.
“ Get in here, beautiful. ”
My towel drops to the floor, and I pad over to where he waits.
He cracks one eye, that single pupil blowing wide when he takes me in.
The hot water stings my cold skin as I step into the tub and situate myself between his open legs.
“Much better.” He wraps his arms around my tummy, fingers tracing over an old scar on my abdomen.
“ What’s this?”
“I had my appendix removed when I was fourteen.” Raising his hand from the water, I count the small white welts along his skin.
“ I bet you’ve lost track of where you got all these from?”
He huffs.
“ Comes with the territory.”
That’s how we stay, losing track of time, our hands wandering over each other’s slick skin.
The touches aren’t sexual, but comforting.
Like we’re memorizing the contours of the other.
The view outside the floor-to-ceiling window is spectacular.
A light dusting of snow floats from the sky, glittering against the deep orange sky as the sun descends.
I’d happily stay here, hiding from reality and responsibilities, but that’s not us.
As if reading my mind, Booth murmurs, “ I have to head back into town tomorrow. Simon’s been covering my shifts, but he’s burned out since we fired Kyle .”
He massages my biceps as they bunch up with tension.
“ I should too. God , I need to message Martin so he kno?—”
“I’ve already told him you’re okay,” Booth interrupts.
“ That was all.”
I twist in his hold.
“ Thank you.” Resting my forehead on his chin, I inhale his smoky scent lingering with the calming eucalyptus aroma of the bath.
“He, um, asked if he could meet with you.”
My head snaps up.
“ He did?”
“Did you want me to tell him it’s too soon or…? ”
“You don’t have to do that.” My voice grows tight, and I wince at my defensiveness.
Booth peels my dripping hair off my shoulder.
“ When are you going to get it into your head that I’m not here to take charge? You lead; I follow.”
I wind my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.
My body is bare, but my next request leaves me most exposed.
“ Will you come with me?”
His fingers drift up and down my spine.
“ You don’t even need to ask.”
My heart sings, the trust in his words strikes a chord deep in my chest. His own heart strums against mine, both beating in harmony as I lay open-mouth kisses down the column of his neck.
“What about what’s important to you?” My question comes out senselessly.
He stills.
“What do you mean?” he asks warily.
When I raise my head, he blinks down at me rapidly.
“About working somewhere else. The dreams you told me about. I’ve seen you work, Booth . Your talent knows no bounds. Have you ever thought about researching other oppor?—”
“They’re dreams. That’s all. Ones I put to rest a long time ago.” I blanch in surprise.
His tone and face are harsh.
A stark contrast to the gleam in his eyes when he shared his aspirations with me.
“But why?”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Aly .”
Water sloshes over the sides of the tub as he spins me; back to chest again.
His thickening cock nudges my bottom.
He’s avoiding the subject, tactfully diverting my attention.
I want to be mad, to draw the truth from him.
Which is unfair. He’s been nothing but patient with me, so I’ll do the same until he’s ready .
I push back into his erection, drawing a hiss from him.
“I’m going to do filthy things to you tonight, Silver .”
“Promises, promises.”
Arousal curls my toes as he palms my breasts.
The cool air pebbles my skin, eyes fluttering closed as I drift into ecstasy under his touch.
He pinches and rolls my nipples.
I widen my legs and succumb to his skillful hands, right there in the bubbles.
Our conversation temporarily forgotten.
My younger self saw nervousness as a weakness.
Dance recitals. Volleyball competitions.
First dates. Anytime my hands became clammy or stomach somersaulted, I’d talk myself out of it.
I didn’t get the jitters.
That ideology still holds true today.
The idea of seeing Martin again has my temples pulsing and legs bouncing, leaving me delicate and feeble.
My solace? Booth .
But he’s not here to talk me off this cliff.
And he probably wouldn’t.
He’d tell me it’s not that high up, and if and when I jump, he’ll be there at the bottom to soften my fall.
He’s not far, about a hundred yards away working the lunch service, but tell that to my brain.
I’m about to crawl out of my skin when my phone vibrates on the desk.
“How’s my favorite daughter?”
A smile pulls at my lips, my father’s voice always filling me with happiness .
“Your only daughter is fine. How are you?” I manage to laugh, though it’s weak.
“Uh-oh. I’ve been married long enough not to accept ‘fine.’ What’s wrong?” Concern laces his words.
There’s no fooling him or my mom.
Which is why I don’t mince my words.
“I finally met with Martin and let’s just say it didn’t go to plan.” I grimace at the reminder.
My dad lets out a slow breath.
“ Oh , Aly . What happened?”
His defeated tone is telling.
My parents begged me to reconsider when I told them my reasons for buying Our Place , not wanting me to relive the meeting with my birth mother.
I understood their worries, but listening to others’ advice was never my forte.
“It was me, not him. He still doesn’t know. Or at least I don’t think he does. I turned up at his house, with no warning, and after five minutes, left without saying goodbye.” My head thumps against the back of the rolling chair.
“ We are meeting him again this afternoon.”
“ We ?” my dad asks in surprise.
Oh shoot. For obvious reasons, my parents don’t know about Booth .
Well , they do, but as the head chef.
“A friend is coming with me. He knows Martin , so it’ll be less awkward.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily.
“Well, okay. You’ll call us when you’ve spoken to him? No matter the outcome?”
No matter the outcome.
If Martin turns me away, he means.
“I will, Papa . I’m sorry I haven’t called much.” Guilt sits heavy in my stomach.
“It’s fine. I just wanted to check in and…” He trails off, piquing my interest.
“And?”
“It’s fine. Forget about it. ”
His vagueness frustrates me.
“ Papa ?”
A deep sigh echoes down the line.
“ We have an issue in Berlin . William quit without notice and it’s left us in quite the pickle.”
Quite the pickle is an understatement.
William is a senior investor based in Europe and for the last nine months, he’s been working hard to nail down a deal with a small chain of boutique hotels in Germany .
It’s a huge investment, something that would really put us on the map in a region we’ve barely scratched the surface of.
Without saying it, I know what he’s insinuating.
I sit up in the chair.
“ When do you need me there?”
“Aly, there are more important things. You have a lot on your plate.”
He’s not wrong, but I can’t stay here forever.
He knows that. I know that.
Everyone here knows that.
“Give me until the end of February . I can send someone from my team out there in the interim and familiarize myself with the project remotely,” I insist, voice even despite the pang of disappointment.
So that’s that. It’s more time than I originally planned to have with Booth —and in town—yet somehow, it doesn’t feel like enough.
And because the universe loves to rub salt in the wound, the man himself walks in, smiling wide, a dishrag tucked into his apron and red bandanna tied around his head.
It’s unfair he’s the perfect specimen of a man.
It’s even crueler he’s turned out to be one of the most incredible too.
“Hey, beau— Oh , my bad.” The last of his sentence drops to a whisper when he sees the phone pressed to my ear.
Holding up a finger, I swivel in the chair.
“ Send me the details, Papa . I’m sorry I have to go, but I’ll call tonight. Give my love to Mama . I love you.”
“Was that your special friend?” he asks coyly .
The tips of my ears burn.
“ Goodbye , Father ,” I reply flatly, and his deep laughter is heard until I hang up.
When I spin back around, my face shows no signs of the news my dad shared as I give Booth a small smile.
It’s ironic, because it wasn’t long ago he was praying for my mysterious disappearance.
Now the idea of telling him has a sour taste lingering in my mouth.
“Your dad?” He settles into the chair opposite.
“Mm-hmm.” A small divot forms between his eyes at my brusqueness.
My face might be under control, but my voice isn’t.
“ Sorry . Just lots going on. Are you finished for the day?”
“Yeah. Clocked off, Boss .” He salutes me.
I roll my eyes. “ Don’t call me that.”
He saunters over, perching himself on the corner of the desk beside me and ducks his head.
A shiver runs through me as Booth’s smoky scent assaults my senses.
“ What , am I only to call you that in the bedroom, Boss ? ”
“You’re ridiculous.” I laugh and push his face away.
We share a smile, the air between us buzzing, our greedy gazes never quite getting their fill.
His eyes dart left, breaking the connection, and I follow.
The clock reads five p.m., but it may as well scream it.
We’re meeting Martin at 5:30.
“You can change your mind, you know?” Booth’s deep timbre cuts through the haze.
God , it’s incredible how well he can read me.
I continue to follow the hands of the clock.
Tick. Tock . Tick . Tock .
Could I change my mind?
Should I ?
“No.” I shake my head vigorously.
“ No , I don’t want to do that. I’ve waited long enough.”
“Okay,” he whispers and shuffles closer until his knees touch my thigh.
“ I’ll be there every step of the way. If it becomes too much, you give me a sign and we can leave. Tap me on the thigh or something. But , Aly ?”
“Yeah?” I turn to look at him.
“I’m really proud of you, whatever you decide.”
This.
Man . This perfect, caring, beautiful man.