30. Then
THIRTY
then
Maggie
movie tonight?
Ella
I sort of… have a date.
A fancy one, if what he left on our doorstep is any indication.
Maggie
oooh la la. did Moneybags send flowers?
Ella
Beautiful white peonies…
And chocolate strawberries…
And this amazing dress…
Maggie
see, I told you he had BDE.
For the hundredth time, I wondered if any of it was right.
Turned out that romantic gestures involved a lot more guesswork than I originally anticipated.
Did she like pink peonies or white ones? I went with white. What dress size would fit her better—four or six? I wound up choosing a six.
And milk chocolate strawberries instead of dark or white chocolate.
The St. Regis instead of The Plaza.
The Tiffany Suite over the Dior.
Champagne, not red wine.
“A drink, Mr. Stryker?”
They knew my name at the King Cole Bar. Would it be obvious I was a regular? Was that a bad thing?
It must have been obvious that I was nervous because the bartender had offered me a cocktail four times. I kept sipping my water, glancing toward the entrance, and then back at my watch every half-minute.
8:08 .
She was late, but Marco had texted earlier to tell me they were en-route. I couldn’t figure out why I felt like I had an electric current buzzing through me. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t show up …
My watch ticked on.
8:10 . Maybe I should tell the ma?tre d’ to hold our ? —
Every rational thought evaporated as my restless eyes flicked back to the entrance.
And there she was.
Ellie .
I swear to God, my fucking heart skipped. She was somehow— impossibly —more gorgeous than ever. The emerald green dress gave her peachy skin a warm glow and looked especially striking against the curled curtain of her gold hair. The strapless bodice molded tightly to her breasts and her ribcage then flowed into a short skirt that shone slightly as it shifted around the flare of her hips. Her smooth, freckled thighs. Her long, bare legs.
I’m not going to make it .
It only got harder to breathe as she approached, grinning just for me. Her makeup reminded me of the night at the gallery. She wore just enough to make her sapphire eyes ludicrously large and luminous, but, this time, pink glossed her lips. The sheen on them was the only thing that stopped me from hauling her into my lap and sealing my mouth over hers.
Instead, I managed to swallow down my awe and smile back at her as I stood, lifting her hand to brush my lips over her palm.
“Perfection,” I complimented, glancing into her eyes.
She smirked, flicking her gaze down over my slate tie, my navy suit. “You’re one to talk.” Her sweet little smile turned coy. “Sorry I’m late. Some crazy man only gave me forty-five minutes to get ready.”
I laughed before I could help it. “Oh, come on. You’re beautiful. It can’t possibly take you that long to get ready.”
Ellie sighed dramatically. “Spoken like a man.” Her eyes sparkled. “Are we having a drink here before we go back to your place?”
I offered her my hand and helped her onto the high leather seat beside mine. “Not exactly.” Waving the eager bartender over, I turned to Ella. “Champagne? ”
She pursed her lips, obviously uneasy. “Only if it isn’t too expensive,” she murmured. “I can look at a menu and pick something else.”
No way I’d allow that to happen. The price was of no consequence to me, but if she saw the $250 price tag for the bottle of Dom, she wouldn’t be able to drink it.
I flashed a reassuring smile. “I already had them put a bottle on ice for us.”
She frowned slightly. “But you like gin.”
The memory of her bringing me a gin and tonic and calling Graham a shithead widened my grin. “But you like champagne,” I countered. “And tonight is about you.”
Guilt darkened the edges of her expression, so I decided to distract her. Nodding at her small gold purse, I asked, “Any yarn in there?”
Ella giggled softly, sending a bolt of warmth through the center of my chest as the bartender set our chilled bottle and glasses between us. “Not in my purse. In my overnight bag, though.”
I nodded as if that was a totally normal thing to pack for a night with a lover. “What color this week?”
For some reason, her cheeks heated, and she dropped her eyes to lap. “Dark green,” she mumbled.
“Hmmm.” It was the subtlest color she’d worked with since I met her, and it embarrassed her for some reason. “What are you making this time?”
She straightened her posture, visibly donning a false air of bravado while she reached for her flute of champagne. “Nothing major,” she said simply, then swallowed.
Her eyes flew open. She looked down into the glass and over at my face while I tried not to chuckle at her adorable surprise.
“Is it good?” I asked, as casual as could be. “The sommelier recommended it.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “The soma-what?”
A smile crept past my defenses. “The wine guy. ”
“There’s a wine guy ?” she asked, wide-eyed. “As in, a man who earns a salary by telling people which wine to drink?”
Good Lord . She was too damn cute.
Unable to resist a second longer, I bent toward her and slid my hand over her crossed thighs. My lips ran up her cheekbone to rest against the whorl of her ear. “I missed you, Ellie.”
It was true. I missed her with an intensity that left me reeling whenever I pondered it. Every morning, I woke up and turned to the other pillow, expecting her there. Every night, I fought the urge to charge down to Brooklyn and knock on her door. Every day, her precious texts and phone calls filled my free moments.
And, as stressful as it had been, I actually enjoyed putting together our date. The idea came to me on the heels of the shower I took with Ellie on Sunday morning, which left me wishing I had a bathtub. A hotel room would have one, I figured. And then I could strip her down after our date and wash her in the tub. Or strip her down, have my way with her, and then wash her in the tub. Or?—
Ellie’s hand closed over mine while she leaned against me. “Thank you so much,” she hummed, her breath catching. “This dress…The strawberries… This champagne…It’s all perfect, Gray. No one has ever been so generous or thoughtful to me.”
Her gratitude did strange things to me. I didn’t want her to think she owed me any elaborate thanks. Because I wanted to do things for her, and I would keep doing things for her for as long as I could.
But at the same time, her appreciation made me feel twelve feet tall.
For the second time in three minutes, I only narrowly avoided tugging her onto my lap. The heady combination only she inspired decimated my self-control. Joy warmed my chest. Lust, thick and hot, pulsed through my veins. Elation clouded my thoughts, thicker than any buzz.
God , I thought. I could get through anything during the week if all my weekends were like this .
I tucked a loose strand of gold behind her ear and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, not giving a damn about the makeup. “I would spend every Saturday this way,” I confessed, then sat back and raised my glass to clink hers. “And we’re just getting started. ”