Chapter 55
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
To Do:
- Keep eyes open for William Hickory
- Contact manager of ice skating rink for D proposal
- Meet up with Nicole
West Haven greeted Claire and Luke like old friends when they touched down on the tarmac and climbed into their car. Beyond the grid of the city, rolling green farm hills on either side stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with wildflowers. Not even the redeye they had taken to West Haven International Airport could dull Claire’s enthusiasm for her hometown.
She pressed herself to the window. Maybe it was Tanya’s influence, but she needed to feel that grass under her bare feet.
“Can you pull over?” she asked. They were less than a mile from home. He looked at her like she had just asked him to perform open heart surgery. “Just for a second.”
“Okay,” Luke said, braking and shifting onto the shoulder of the road. He put his hazard lights on while Claire unbuckled her seatbelt.
She flung her car door open and kicked her shoes off. The air was clean and light here, if a bit tinged with manure from the farm to their left. She lifted her face to the sun. It was more humid than Los Angeles, that much was true. But she was home. She closed her eyes and just took a moment to simply be. Dr. Goulding would be proud.
Glancing back at the car, she dropped to her knees, then to her side. She flung her arms until she started rolling down the hill. She laughed as the grass tickled her toes and a wildflower nearly went up her nose. It was a short hill. Rosie’s head popped up in the back seat. Winston joined her. She barked, clearly anxious to be home. Or maybe just annoyed that her mom was adventuring without her.
“All done communing with nature?” Luke asked when she climbed back inside.
She shot him a dirty look. “It’s just so beautiful. I had to feel it.”
“Okay, Tanya.” He patted the top of her head and pulled back onto the road.
Claire glowered at him. Judgey Luke was back. At least he hadn’t yelled at her for tasering those men. Any argument would have been short-lived since she had one hundred percent saved his life.
The daffodils that lined the driveway bobbed in the breeze. The grass was sorely in need of mowing. There was always something to do at the Islestorm Compound.
“I have never been so happy to be home. Even if it’s just for a few days,” she announced as she threw the front door open and tossed their bags inside. The dogs darted in next to her. Winston tiptoed across the kitchen and found his favorite bed. He circled several times before settling down. Rosie yawned and crawled in behind him.
Luke glanced at his phone. “I’m glad we were still able to make the trip. I thought the cops were never going to let us go yesterday.”
Claire sidled up to him and looped her pinky through his. “How are you feeling today? Sore?”
He had barely said a word about the assault since the incident. The police had opened an investigation, but little could be done without a name of the perpetrator.
He shook his head. “I’m fine. I have some work emails to go through. Should we ignore the unpacking for now?”
She nodded. “I have to get Heather’s onboarding documents together anyway. Come get me when you’re done.” She stood on her tippy toes to kiss him.
“Will do,” he said before disappearing down the hallway into his office.
Her phone buzzed. Brianna had texted and confirmed she was alive and still filming in Palm Springs—part of the mandatory check-in policy Claire had established while they were separated. Brianna was surrounded by coworkers, but Claire couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Her premiere was on Friday. If ESA was going to make a move to stop it, it would happen this week. They planned to head back to Los Angeles on Thursday when Bri came home for the weekend, but maybe sooner would be better.
Claire ran one hand fondly over the kitchen island. She needed to go grocery shopping and do a thousand other house-related things. But first, she should probably make sure no one had tried to break into the house while they were gone.
She went outside and carefully inspected all the exterior doors. None of them looked like they’d been forced. There were no broken windows, no mysterious footprints in the flower beds, no menacing messages written in blood-red paint. What a nice change.
She went back inside with a happy heart. Even with the jet lag, it was going to be a great day. She would get some work done, drop off an extra couple of months’ loan payment at the bank thanks to Brad’s cash tip, and meet Nicole at their favorite taco truck later.
Her desktop computer greeted her like an old friend. The dogs tippy-tapped their way into the office and settled in their respective beds. Claire cracked her knuckles and jumped into work.
Two hours later, there was a knock on her office door. It swung open, and Luke stared back at her with an unreadable expression.
“It’s done.”
She stared at him quizzically. “What’s done?”
“The documentary. They just sent me the final, official cut.”
“Holy shit.” She jumped out of her chair. “Luke! This is huge!” She leaped into his arms and kissed him. The day’s growth of beard scratched her skin. “How do you feel?”
“I won’t know until I watch it.”
“This is incredible. I’m so proud of you.” She tugged him in and kissed him again, deeper this time. He put a hand on her lower back, pulled her even closer. His other hand snaked into her hair. He broke away to kiss her neck, then lower.
Claire strained toward him. Good lord did that man have a mouth. She released one of her hands and felt around behind her for the ceramic jar of dog treats on her desk. She nearly knocked it to the floor, then dug two out and threw them into the hallway. The dogs scampered after them. Luke slammed the door behind them. He carried her back to the desk. With one swift motion, he shoved everything off her desk—keyboard, wireless mouse, new employee binder.
She bit her lip. Sure, he was in the moment. His testosterone levels had probably skyrocketed after finishing this huge project. But did he have to throw everything on the floor? She had just alphabetized the binder tabs.
Luke sat her on the desk, and his hands moved to her shirt. He tugged at the buttons of her blouse, planting kisses as he slid them open one by one.
Screw the binder tabs. Her shirt slid down her shoulders until it fell away. He pressed her back until she lay flat on the desk, then he kissed the swells of her breasts and moved lower.
She unbuttoned her pants herself and wiggled them off before groping for Luke. If this wasn’t a brand-new shirt, she would have simply ripped it off him.
He kissed her like they were the last two people on earth, a desperate hunger coming through as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. His grip was so tight that there were sure to be bruises, but she didn’t mind.
Rrrrrip . Her shredded panties fell to the floor.
She barely had time to catch her breath before he was inside her. He crashed into her like thunder. Something fell off a shelf. The desk, a secondhand purchase from a thrift store with a cartoon sticker on the corner that she could never quite get off, creaked underneath their weight.
Was this going to be how he reacted every time he finished a major project? If so, she was going to insist he get started on the next one ASAP. She might need to do some Kegels to prepare for the Emmy ceremony this fall.
Her bra strap slipped off her shoulder as he moved with her. The desk wobbled beneath her. The dogs whined at the door. It wasn’t the most romantic lovemaking they’d ever had. But damn it if it wasn’t hot.
He pulled back to stare into her eyes, so deeply it was like he was seeing her soul. The afternoon light drifted in through the window, painting the curves of his shoulders and lighting him up like a Greek statue. Minute by minute, the fire in her grew until it was almost unbearable.
As they plunged over a crest together, something popped underneath Claire. Her back still arched, she pulled away breathlessly.
“Maybe we should?—”
Crack .
Something gave way beneath her, and she fell hard onto the floor, nearly hitting herself in the face with her knees as her body crumpled like an accordion.
“Shit. Are you okay?” Luke’s face appeared behind the splintered wood that used to be the end of her desk.
“We broke my desk.” Her knees were still in her face.
“I told you it was a shitty desk.”
“Just because it wasn’t made from the rarest, most deforested tree in the rainforest doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good desk,” she said indignantly. It was hard to be dignified when she was flashing her vagina to the ceiling.
Luke sighed. “Why do you always act like I’m some bougie asshole? My desk is from Costco.”
“Can you stop arguing with me and just help me up?” She stuck her hand up and glared at him.
“Are you okay?” He helped her to her feet.
Claire rubbed at the scrape on her back. “I’m fine. I can’t believe your project is done. Wait .”
She took him by both shoulders and stared into those infuriatingly beautiful green eyes. “This means we can finally, officially have your premiere.”
He crossed his arms. “I told you I don’t need a premiere.”
“Yes, you do. Now talk to your agent or Streamster or whoever you need to and get permission. Two weeks from now sound good? That gives us a week after Bri’s premiere. I have the perfect place.” Her mind ran full steam ahead, ideas flashing in and out like news bulletins. “I need the binder.” She whirled around. Splintered wood and a mess of pens covered her rug. “Shit. I forgot everything’s broken.”
Luke frowned. “You can use my desk.”
“Really?” She almost gasped. Sneaky McSecretFace had never let her use his desk before. He protected his office like a mama bear guarding a pack of cubs. He had only just started leaving it unlocked.
“Yes. Just don’t touch anything or delete anything.”
“Like your super-secret porn?”
“Especially my super-secret porn,” he said, pointing at her as he walked out of the door, naked as the day he was born.