Chapter 20
twenty
EDEN
There’s a moment between sleep and wakefulness when I feel completely and utterly safe. Like nothing can touch me or hurt me, because there’s a solid wall of muscled man at my back, his arm wrapped around me, his palm warm under my T-shirt as it’s splayed against the bare skin of my stomach.
His chest moves in slow, even breaths, and the steady beat of his heart thuds against my spine. He’s hard, thick, and hot against my ass. My cheeks pink at the memory of him in my mouth – how full I felt. How turned on I was.
He tightens his hold, as though even in sleep he’s telling me not to move an inch.
But I’m getting overheated and I need water, so I try to wriggle out of his locktight embrace.
West mutters a curse. The kind that would make any mother raise her eyebrows. “Where are you going?” he asks.
I turn to look at him. He has the grumpiest expression on his face. And it takes all I have not to laugh, because until Vegas, I’d never seen him grumpy. I guess my magic blow job skills must wear off after a few hours.
“I need a drink.”
“No alcohol at this time of the morning.” He’s still holding on tight to me.
“Water, you ass.” I roll my eyes at him. “What’s got you so angry?
“I’m not angry,” he mutters, shifting behind me. His hips press forward, his hardness unmistakable, and it sends a shot of desire through me. “I’m horny. And you keep wiggling your tight little body against me like it’s a goddamn invitation.”
My breath hitches. “Maybe it is,” I tell him, because hello? Only one of us got off last night. If anybody should be feeling needy, it’s me.
I arch against him again, because apparently I love poking the lion, and he almost growls as he rolls us over, my back to the mattress, his huge body hovering over me, a dark expression on his face that makes my body clench.
“Not a morning person then,” I murmur.
“I beg to differ.” He kisses my throat, running his hand over my bare legs. “I’m very, very effective in the morning.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling him right where I need him. He lets out another groan.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game,” he murmurs.
“I’m not playing,” I tell him. “Just seeing how far you’ll take it.”
He blinks, just once, like I’ve pulled the ground out from under him. And then he rocks his hips and I can’t think of anything but the stupidly large cock pressing against all the right places. His mouth crashes down on mine, hungry and hot, and his hand slides beneath my shirt to cup my breast.
His other hand skims down my thigh, hooking my leg around his hip, grinding against me until—
Knock. Knock.
“Ah, sir? What time should we be leaving for the resort?” Bennett’s voice carries through the closed bedroom door.
West freezes. I let out a breathless laugh, pressing my forehead to his chest.
He groans against my throat. “I hate that kid.”
“Liar,” I murmur. “And he’s right. It’s almost seven.”
“It is?” West frowns, looking over his shoulder at the Alexa screen next to the bed. “Shit, I have a meeting in half an hour.”
“We’re leaving in twenty minutes,” I shout out, trying not to laugh at the way West winces as he pulls away from me. “Don’t you dare go into that bathroom,” I hiss at him. “I get to shower first.”
“It’s my bathroom.”
“And I gave you a blow job last night. That’s got to be worth five minutes of steam and peace.”
His gaze locks on mine, his brow lifting like he’s remembering the way I slid between his legs. “I’ll give you ten.”
I can’t help smirking as I brush past him and climb out of the bed. But even with my speedy shower, it takes us far longer than thirty minutes to get out of the house.
Which is probably why West’s stupidly expensive watch is flashing an alert by the time we step out onto the sunlit driveway, our shoes crunching on the gravel. His meeting should have started ten minutes ago, and his phone’s been constantly pinging with messages.
But you wouldn’t know it by looking at him.
Gone is the grumpy, growling man who pressed me into the mattress forty-five minutes ago. In his place is Mr. Suave. His shirt is perfectly buttoned, his tie knotted, and sunglasses in place. With the cherry on the top – the world’s most charming smile aimed directly at Bennett.
“You ready for your first day?” he asks, tossing the keys to the Aston Martin into the air and catching them like some kind of car commercial lead.
Bennett, who looks a little nervous in his khakis and a bright white polo that still has the creases from the store, nods like he’s about to be knighted. “Absolutely, sir. I brought my notebook and a backup pen.”
“Very wise. I like a man who’s ready for anything.”
Bennett blushes like West’s nominated him for employee of the year.
“Take these,” West says, throwing a set of keys at me. I catch them and frown. They’re for the SUV.
“Aren’t I coming with you?” I ask him.
“I may need to work late tonight,” he murmurs, looking like the West I used to think I knew. “I thought you might want to escape from me early.”
“Why can’t I take the Vantage?” I ask him.
He raises a brow at me. “I figured you’d prefer an automatic. I know you had some problems with the stick shift.”
“Ouch.” I narrow my eyes at him, keys dangling from my fingers. “You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” I glance over at Bennett. “Hey, want to drive with me?” I ask him. “I’m much more fun than Mr. Grump over there.”
Bennett’s eyes widen. “Ah…”
“I beg to differ. Nobody’s more fun than me,” West says.
I give him a pointed look, because he’s spent the last hour as the poster child for grumpy husbands.
“I guess the Aston Martin is very nice,” Bennett says, like he’s a kid in the middle of a custody battle, being asked to choose one of his parents over the other.
“It’s even nicer when it’s driven by somebody who knows what they’re doing,” West says, giving me a wide grin.
God, I hate the way he’s so stupidly attractive. “When you find someone who knows what they’re doing, let me know,” I say sweetly.
His smile doesn’t falter as he unlocks the car and Bennett climbs into the passenger seat, clutching his notebook like a life raft. West watches him shut the door, waits a beat, then turns and stalks toward me with that slow, confident stride that does ridiculous things to my insides.
I blink up at him, already breathless. “What are you—”
He cups the back of my neck and kisses me.
And not a polite peck or a teasing brush of lips for Bennett’s eyes.
No, this is a full-on, spine-melting, tongue-slick kiss that makes my toes curl in my shoes and my knees sway. One of those kisses that leaves no room for doubt about who I belong to.
When he finally pulls back, his voice is low and rough. “Be good.”
“I make no promises,” I murmur, dazed.
His eyes sweep over me like he wants to kiss me again. Like he wants to say fuck it and take me back to bed. “I’ll see you tonight,” he tells me, like he already has plans for me.
And then he’s gone, walking back to the Aston Martin like he didn’t just kiss the sanity out of me, and I climb into the SUV in a total daze.
I sit there for a moment, clutching the keys, trying to remember how to breathe.
Yeah, Bennett made the right call going with West. I can’t even remember how to drive this damn thing.
A couple of hours later I’m standing with one of the resort contractors, nodding politely while he explains the intricacies of the gray water system, trying not to point out that I actually have a degree in this stuff.
Not that I think he’d listen. He’s too busy mansplaining to care about my education, and I’m too distracted wondering what West and Bennett are doing.
By the time I arrived at the resort, they’d already disappeared into the admin suite for back-to-back meetings, and while I’m supposed to be finishing the sustainability survey, all I can think about is him.
This project matters to West. A lot. And maybe it shouldn’t make my chest warm to see how seriously he’s taking it. How patient he was when Bennett asked about load-bearing walls at dinner last night. How he handed him the resort schedule and promised that Bennett would learn a lot while he’s here.
It’s kind of… sweet. Unfairly sweet. Because I really don’t like the way my chest feels when I think about him.
“So then we’re gonna have the inlet here,” the contractor says. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I snatch at it excitedly, fully expecting it to be West checking up on me.
But no. It’s not him. It’s much worse.
The Fitzgerald family group chat is lighting up like a dumpster fire.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, smiling sweetly. “I should take this. Thanks for explaining how it all works.”
Before he can offer any more insights, I turn away, shielding my eyes from the sun, as I read the messages that are turning into my worst nightmare.
AUTUMN: So… anybody want to see a photo I took yesterday? Or know what our baby sister’s been up to?
I blink. What’s she talking about? But then I see the photo attachment.
It’s of me and Bennett. On the beach yesterday. I’m in a bikini, laughing with the wind in my hair. Bennett is looking at me with wide eyes. It’s actually a nice picture if it weren’t so creepy that my sister took it in secret.
HUDSON: Who’s that with her? Is it the guy who arrived at the barbecue unannounced the other day?
AUTUMN: Yep. Apparently he’s West’s intern. Not that I can get anything out of West. Or Eden. She’s been ignoring my calls.
I frown. West has seen this? When? Why didn’t he mention it.
ASHER: Want me to run a background check on him? Or go warn him to behave around our kid sister. She’s only nine after all.
I roll my eyes. God, they’re annoying. Not one of them has noticed I’ve grown up.
ZACH: That seems like a good idea to me.
I let out a growl and jab my thumbs against the screen.
EDEN: For god’s sake. It’s a PHOTO! We were talking on the beach like normal people.
HUDSON: But we don’t know anything about this kid. Why is he here? I’m gonna call West.
EDEN: DO NOT CALL WEST. He’s busy. And so am I. Please micromanage someone else’s life.
WYATT:
At least Wyatt’s predictably brief. I wish I could say the same about the rest of my family.
AUTUMN: Hmm. I was going to keep this photo off Instagram. But now I’m thinking maybe a soft launch post? Caption: “When your sister brings a boy home to meet the family…”
EDEN: Do it and die.
AUTUMN: Then pick up when I call. We’re overdue for a big sister-little sister heart-to-heart. And I’m bored. You need to entertain me.
EDEN: I’m muting this chat. Forever.
But I don’t. Instead I close the app with a sigh.
God help me if they ever find out what I did to West last night. Or what he did the night before that. Or that we got married in Vegas. Because if they did? My life wouldn’t be worth living. And West’s?
Well, they’d make his even worse.