Chapter 24
Warner
“You look very handsome, Hotshot,” Sass says, running her hands down the front of my freshly starched shirt.
I wince, thinking how much can go wrong wearing a white shirt without a jacket.
I can’t go into a meeting with dirt on my shirt, or food, or residue from the lotion she just put on her hands not five minutes ago.
The Monday morning sun still rests below the tops of the surrounding buildings, leaving the much-needed light for getting ready just beyond reach.
I didn’t bother turning on the overhead light, trying to be respectful of Delaney’s sleep.
It’s not unusual for me to be awake this early, but I have a feeling she isn’t used to it.
But she crawled out of bed and rubbed her eyes as I slid a white button-up over my cast. After pressing her lips to mine, she ambled into the bathroom to be with me. She might be new to my morning routine, but I like her here. Even if she doesn’t hustle at this hour the way I do.
I stopped asking questions last night, deciding that daily life with her would be served on a platter of surprises.
Each revelation would have its time to shine.
It goes against my nature, how I was raised, and the makeup of my being.
It’s just what I needed to shake me back into living my life again.
The ordinary has become extraordinary because Delaney has steamrolled her way into my life and shaken up my world.
It doesn’t bother me so much, not even the mark she left on my shirt. Much. “Since I can’t wear a jacket, I think I’ll pull on a sweater.”
“In May?”
“It’s thin, like a spring sweater.”
Her gaze glides down the shirt to the spot, and then she looks back up at me.
“I have an idea that might look nice and less wintry. Stay right here.” She runs back down the hall to the bedroom.
She’s dressed in a T-shirt from a half-marathon I ran four years ago, and I don’t think much else, which allows me a peekaboo view of the lower curve of her ass when the shirt lifts in the back. I stay where I was told.
I check the time on my watch. I always arrive early, and most of the time, I’m flicking the lights on at the office.
There’s still time to get in before most, but time is ticking by too fast and kicking in some of the unease that’s built into me.
I like to be early. Not on time. Definitely not late.
Early to any event, to work, and anywhere else I need to be.
Is this something else I’ll need to sacrifice to be with her?
If it is, it’s going to be a harder habit to break, but I’m sure she’ll manage to do it.
“Here,” she says, returning with a vest held in her hands. Holding it in front of me, she’s hidden behind it. “Thoughts?”
“I think I’m looking at the third piece of a three-piece suit.”
She grins up at me. “Warner, it’s fine if you don’t have the jacket.”
“It’s two pieces and not even the first two. You can’t skip the second piece. That’s madness.” Trying to reason through this, I explain, “It’s like eating lasagna without the noodles. It would be a mess.”
Lowering the vest to her side, she angles her head and laughs. “That’s ridiculous. The noodles are literally what make it lasagna.”
She’s not the only one who knows how to trigger someone. I shrug. “I consider the meat sauce to be the heart of lasagna.”
Her head jerks unnaturally as her expression scrunches.
“What are you talking about? Lasagna doesn’t even need meat in the mix to be lasagna.
Sure, it’s nice, and even a delicious addition, but that’s all it is.
An addition for variety.” Mission accomplished.
She tosses the vest on the back of the couch.
“Fine, don’t wear it.” I’m not sure why she’s suddenly so attached to a vest, but disappointment ruins her smile.
I did that, and over an item of clothing. So not worth it.
“Fuck it. Who needs rules when we can live in total chaos? I’ll wear the vest.”
As if she’s been given ice cream for breakfast, her smile returns, and it’s bigger than ever. “Really?”
“Really.”
She grabs it and helps to slip it over my broken arm and then the other. “This will help cover any marks or stains. So you can focus on your bigwig deals instead of that mark I accidentally left on your shirt.”
I’m not as slick as I thought I was. Cupping my face, she says, “Have I told you how sexy I think you are with a black eye?”
The confession comes out of left field like so many other of her whims. Chuckling, I ask, “You like that, huh?”
“Makes you look tough.” Lifting onto her toes, she kisses me.
Typically, I’d soak in a compliment, but this one stumps me because I’m reminded of how she once said she figured me for a brownie guy because they’re soft. “I don’t think that’s the compliment you think it is.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“Now that is something I’ve never been told before.
” I can’t keep up with her. Since I haven’t had coffee, it’s probably best if I don’t try.
Wrapping my arm around her, I bring her in for another kiss.
“I need to go.” It’s tempting to ask her how she’ll spend her day, but something tells me I don’t want to know.
Or, if she does answer, it won’t contain the full story.
That will just start the cycle over again.
Let it go, Landers. I kiss her once more and start moving toward the door with her still attached.
By the time we reach the entry, she plucks her lips from mine and steps back.
Though two fingers remain hooked around a belt loop even as I reach for the door. “I’ll leave you the key.”
It’s just a nod, but I can see the water gathering in her eyes as if I’m leaving her for good. I return to her, lifting her chin and kissing her once more. I trail kisses toward her ear, and then whisper, “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Later.”
This time, I leave without looking back.
I open the door and walk toward the elevator with heavy steps.
The loud click of it closing behind me doesn’t bring me comfort, though all I wanted at the end of last week was freedom from her.
The elevator arrives, but my gut suddenly twists.
I look back, the fear of never seeing her again washing through me.
Don’t be ridiculous.
She’ll be here when I return.
I hope.
Since I’m running later than I’m comfortable with, I catch a cab instead of walking.
The ride is quick at this hour with less traffic. When I enter the lobby, I greet the guard behind the desk, “Morning, Jerry.”
“Whoa, rough weekend?”
“Rough is an understatement.” I grin as I walk toward the elevator. “Hit by a car.”
“Dammmn, you’re lucky to be here.”
I chuckle. “I actually am. Have a good one.” I punch the button, which opens the elevator.
When it stops on the Landers Ventures floor, I step out.
There’s no one at the desk because it’s too early, but I use my card to unlock the door to the offices.
An office down in accounting is lit up, and I see the tops of two heads in the cubicle zone.
“Good morning,” I say, seeing if we have anyone willing to pop their head up.
Both do. Neil, a new dealmaker we recently brought on, and Sharilyn, who runs our online presence. “Good morning,” they reply before ducking their heads back down.
Who I don’t expect to see at this hour is my assistant. I reach Jocelyn’s desk before she sees me, and tease, “Trying to impress the boss?”
When she looks up from her monitor, the gasp can be heard through the large open space. Neil stands to see what the commotion is about before realizing it’s only us and sits down again.
Jocelyn’s shock causes her to stand. “Warner . . .” She covers her mouth with her hand to hide her gaping. It doesn’t work since I know she’s still doing it even if it’s hidden.
I underestimated the reaction I expected to receive being out in public again, especially from Jocelyn.
She’s the most even-keeled person I know, after me that is .
. . was? Fuck. Delaney has me spiraling on a daily basis now.
I waffle my head back and forth. “And here I thought I didn’t look so bad. ”
“You look way worse.”
Grinning, I reply, “Thanks.”
She lowers her hand, but as her eyes bounce around my face and then to my arm, she adds, “My goodness, Warner.”
Coming around the desk, she inspects my arm as sympathy takes hold of her tone by softening it. “I just mean, you made it sound so casual, nothing more than a bump in the road.”
I chuckle. “I see what you did there.”
“Yes, pun intended.” She finally smiles. I prefer that to the concern riddling her face. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor over it.” She exhales and starts to calm after the initial alarm begins to dissipate. “Are you okay?”
Raising my arms out to the side, I reply, “I’m going to live, as sad as that might make some feel.”
“Stop it,” she replies, turning to grab her e-pad and pen. “Let’s get you set up in your office.”
I flash my key card again, unlocking my door. “You don’t have to take care of me. I’ve been in good hands all weekend.”
“And whose hands would those be?” she asks, following me inside. She beats me to the light switch and flips it on.
“An angel I met.” I laugh under my breath, fully aware of how foolish I sound, but the truth is what it is. No use pretending otherwise. Too much other stuff under a fake facade to add more to it.
“An angel?”
I try to ignore the disbelief in her voice. I get it. I’m a different person today than I was when she last saw me. I don’t believe myself most of the time. “She saved my life, so yeah,” I say, sitting down behind my desk. “Guardian angel might be more accurate.”
She sits in front of me on the other side of the desk, a worrying ribboning through her forehead. “You really did hit your head.”