Chapter 4 #2
It should have been good news. The next step in acquiring the skills I was honing by further entrenching myself in this business.
But it meant not seeing Tori all day. She’d become a fixture in my daily routine.
As I exited the building, I saw her across the parking lot.
A breeze played in her ebony hair, and she lifted her face and laughed.
She was so beautiful it left me speechless.
Taking the books from her, I gave her a coy grin. “I guess I have competition now?”
“Is there competition for you, Gabe?” she said, blue eyes that reflected the sky above questioning me.
“Not if this is what I’m competing against,” I said, lifting the books. But studying for her licenses would encompass most of her time.
I opened the door for her, and she sat in the seat, looking up at me and saying, “You can help me study. That means even more time together, right?”
My grin turned to a full smile. “Definitely, but don’t think I’m going easy on you. Those exams are difficult, and I’ll be the drill sergeant to make sure you pass.”
Brow quirking, she replied, “Is that a threat?”
“Sure is.” I closed her door, shaking my head as I made my way to the other side of the car. “And since my plans were to make dinner for you tonight, you can start reading while I cook,” I said, buckling in.
“That’s no fun.”
“It’ll be fun for me.”
She gave me an attempt at a lethal glare that made me chuckle. “That’s because you already have your licenses.”
“Exactly.” I gave her a wink and pulled out of the spot. “They’re sending me onto the floor on Monday. Sixth floor, to be precise.”
I glanced over to gauge her reaction. We’d both known it was coming.
She was here for a trader position, to get her feet wet before she moved to a more specialized department, but I’d come for one of the coveted roles as an analyst. And given my prior experience in the role, I didn’t have to start at the bottom this time.
Her smile dipped, and she played with her fingers. “I guess that means I’ll need to find a new lunch partner.”
Eyes back on the road, I tried to contain my jealousy at the thought. “Let’s see if my lunch schedule coincides with yours.”
“If not, then our dinners will be even more special.”
Casting a peek at her, I saw the smile return, the sight easing my strain.
“Definitely will.”
“So, you’re cooking dinner for me tonight. What’s on the menu, Chef Gabe?”
Chuckling, I said, “It’s a surprise.”
This was the first time we were going to my place, and I wasn’t sure what she would think of it. It was a blank slate, a temporary blip in my life that needed nothing more than basic furnishings.
“Don’t expect much,” I said, unlocking the door when we arrived. “I’m not a knickknack guy.”
Throwing the door open, I gestured for her to go in before me. I hit the lights, watching her reaction.
“You surely are not,” she said. “Do you own anything but furniture?”
My keys clanked when I dropped them on the counter. “Not really.” But I couldn’t tell her this was only a stop in my life, that important things didn’t need to be part of my life here. Just my computer and a bed. And now, Tori.
She spun to me, evaluating me again, something she did frequently. Tori was a thinker, deep in her head, thoughtful and taking her time with decisions and judgments. She was smarter than she let on, and I saw her trying to figure me out again.
“At least I have furniture,” I said, hitting the kitchen light.
“So I should be thankful for the couch?” Humor tinted her question.
“Yup. It was almost a futon.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You don’t strike me as a futon guy. And considering how high-end this furniture is, I can’t imagine one was ever really on your list.”
I creased my eyes, trying to figure out how she knew my furniture was high-end.
Nothing but the best for William Icinda’s son.
I’d had to argue for days to buy an inexpensive car instead of taking the Jaguar, arguing that it would make me stand out.
The conversation went over as well as my decision to move to Florida.
Something that had taken convincing, but after spinning it as a way to help the company, he had relented.
I’d bought the car, much to his aggravation, because someone at my level didn’t make Jag money.
She was waiting for an explanation, and I could have just told her I made enough.
But the lies kept compounding, and I needed to give her some truth.
Given how I was planning to spoil her, I ran my hand through my hair and said, “My mother died when I was sixteen.” Her face morphed, the sorrow in her eyes enough to make me hate myself for sharing.
“I’m so sorry, Gabe.”
“Don’t be.” It’s my father who should be sorry. “It was a long time ago. But when she died, she left a trust fund for me and Liv. It provides well above my means every month. I invest most of my payments, but sometimes, I splurge, and I prefer a soft couch to a stiff futon.”
It wasn’t a direct lie. My mother had died, and there had been a trust fund.
One that paid out to me when I turned twenty.
She’d also left one to Liv, who had received hers three years earlier than I had.
But the money I spent on things like furniture was from the spending account my father had established for me.
Our mother’s money I had invested in our plan to unravel him.
The startup money for the company that was now hidden under layers of LLCs and whose equity would be enough to rival our father’s when we made our ultimate move in five years.
“So, you’re a trust fund baby?” she teased me. “That was your big secret?”
“Almost as big as the fact that your family owns one of the most popular resorts in Connecticut?”
The corner of her lip tugged, and I knew I had her.
“Get those books out and start studying. You can test out the couch to see if it meets your standards, Goldilocks.”
She gave me a peck on the cheek and grabbed her study guide.
“If I fall asleep while reading this, don’t wake me,” she said, flipping through the pages. “I don’t know if I want to be dragged back to this hell.”
I chuckled as she took a highlighter out of her bag. She sat on the couch, her skirt bunching to show more of her sexy thighs. Dragging my sight from them, I started prepping dinner. A recipe my mother had taught me, handed down through her family since before her grandparents had moved from Italy.
By the time I finished making the chicken piccata, Tori had stretched out on my couch, book between her hands.
She had her feet in the air, legs crossed at the ankles, and had pulled her hair back.
I couldn’t help but stare at how adorable she looked, unguarded and relaxed. Navy irises peeked over the book at me.
“How’s the studying going?” I asked, bringing two plates of food to the table.
“My head hurts if that tells you anything.”
“It does, and trust me, it’ll hurt worse. Wait until you get to bonds.”
She groaned and dropped her head into the book. Walking over to her, I pulled it away, marked the page with her highlighter, and helped her up. I drew her into my arms, pushing a strand of hair back that had fallen from her ponytail.
“If this happens at the end of each chapter, I’m willing to keep studying.” She laced her arms around my neck, and I leaned in to capture her mouth. Kissing Tori was like soaking in the sun on a summer day. It warmed my veins and left my body tingling.
“Come eat, and we’ll watch a movie since you’ve been a good girl.”
She shivered deliciously, and I nibbled on her neck, breathing in the scent of vanilla and cherry blossoms.
“Told you I could top your book boyfriends,” I said, dragging my cheek over hers and stealing another kiss. Her body went limp, and I wondered why I hadn’t taken this farther yet. It was torture living on just her kisses when I wanted to devour every inch of her.
Our lips separated slowly, her eyes opening to meet mine.
They were dusty, and I wanted to ingrain their color in my mind forever.
This was why I was taking my time. Because everything about Tori was special, every minuscule gesture and look.
And I wanted to take all those moments and cement them in my memory before I made love to her.
Tori talked through what she’d learned while we ate, asking questions which I readily answered.
I’d immersed myself in the finance world since I was sixteen, a necessity for building our fortune through portfolio and real estate investments.
All legitimate and with a proper paper trail.
Once we’d had enough, I had scoured business opportunities and Liv had vetted them.
We’d accumulated enough businesses over the past four years to become a threat to businesses like my father’s, but we weren’t ready for that step.
“Where did you learn to cook like that?” Tori asked as she loaded her dish into the dishwasher after insisting on cleaning up.
“My mother. Her family immigrated from Italy a few generations back. She loved cooking the recipes her mother taught her and would bring me and my sister in to cook with her any time she could.” Any time my father didn’t drag me back out by the ear, bitching that it was woman’s work and he wouldn’t have his son doing domestic duties.
I could still see the pain in her eyes and feel the sting of his belt.
From then on, she invited me into the kitchen only when he was away on business.
“Well, she did a good job. It was excellent.” She dropped onto the couch, rubbing her stomach. “I’ll have to unhook my skirt if I eat anything else.”
Her eyes met mine, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking three strides to her and kissing her.
The kiss deepened, and I leaned further over, catching myself on the back of the sofa.
Her hands skirted up my chest, fisting my shirt and the urge to take more from her, to taste every inch of her and discover what those hands felt like on my bare skin roared through my veins.
My knee hit the cushion, and I pushed her back on the couch.
Hand moving up her waist, I curled it below her and brought her chest to mine.
Her hands threaded through my hair, and my resolve almost faltered.
The need to discover every facet of Tori before I explored her body and claimed it screamed for me to stop, and I drew back, letting our kiss end.
Her lips were red from the kiss, her cheeks flushed.
“You’re gorgeous, Tori, and you make it extremely difficult to be a gentleman,” I confessed.
She rubbed her hand over my jaw. “I don’t remember ever telling you to be a gentleman.”
“No, I suppose you didn’t, but I am,” I admitted, dropping my head into her neck.
Kissing her collarbone, I gently lowered her body and released my hold on her.
“It’s the stock exchange talk, isn’t it?”
I squinted, trying to figure out what she was saying.
“That’s the turn-on.”
My laugh burst from me, and I dropped to the other side of the couch, scooting her legs over and putting them on my lap.
“I can promise you that was not the turn-on.” Her soft skin was smooth as my hand rubbed her calf. “You up for a horror movie or action?”
“Horror, but don’t laugh when I hide my eyes.”
Patting my chest, I said, “It’s here when you need someplace to bury them.”
“Good to know. Is there a fee for using your chest to shield my innocent eyes?”
I feigned thinking. “A kiss.”
“Done.”
She repositioned herself so that she was tucked into my side and proceeded to kiss me with each scary moment before burying her head in my chest and asking me if the scene was over through the entire movie. By the time it ended, I was ready to kiss her for the rest of my life.