50. Sean
SEAN
I ’m pacing back and forth across the wide expanse of the Athena’s rooftop. It’s been forty-five minutes since Christian texted that he gave Lowri the gift box. She should’ve been here by now. What if she’s not coming?
I get it. She has every right to be upset with me.
But the spark between us is still there, and we were getting along fine earlier today.
She was the one who suggested drinks. There’s no reason for her to change her mind.
It’s not like I sent her something provocative from one of the lingerie boutiques.
PJs were meant to signal that I wasn’t expecting anything other than a relaxing evening.
Looking at my phone for the millionth time, only one more minute has passed. It feels like ten times that.
I can’t fix the friction between us if she’s not here. I could text Christian for an update. I don’t want to come across as worried though. He might clue in on the fact that there’s trouble between Lowri and me. What the hell! Why do I care what he thinks?
Me: What’s your ETA?
Christian: 5 minutes.
Me: What took so long?
Christian: Not sure. She didn’t say.
Me: Okay. Thanks.
Hmm. I’m not sure what the long wait means. Did Lowri hesitate to accept the invitation? Is she making me squirm? Or is there a chance she took extra time to get ready for the special evening? I can only hope.
Supposedly, actions speak louder than words. Operation Show Not Tell is moving forward.
Knowing Lowri’s on the way, I pop the cork on the champagne that’s been chilling and take one last look at my surroundings to make sure nothing is missing.
Reflections from the neon lights on the Strip take the place of stars in the night sky.
There’s a slight chill in the evening air, providing a positive energy that will hopefully lead to forgiveness, if not more.
Hearing the ding of the elevator at the far end of the roof, I take a swig of liquid courage. Here goes everything.
The doors part, revealing Lowri in the soft satin pajamas that hug her perfect curves. Even in PJs, she’s a goddess.
Our eyes lock but neither of us says anything. I’m hypnotized by the sway of her body as she walks toward me along the candlelit path that’s strewn with lavender, white, and pink rose petals.
Meeting her halfway, I open my arms, inviting a hug. Relief washes over me when she closes the space and wraps her arms around me. “You’re extremely huggable in your soft, plaid PJs. Flannel looks good on you,” she says.
“Everything looks good on you.” I kiss the top of her head, not wanting to push my luck.
As I tighten the hug, her supple, perky breasts crush against my flannel shirt.
Shit. She’s not wearing anything under her top. I barely manage to separate us before it becomes horribly obvious that my cock is at full attention. Down boy. Not now. We’re apologizing, not seducing—well, at least not yet.
“What is all this? We were supposed to meet for a drink.” She waves her hand around the scene I’ve set for the evening.
“Change of plans. Movie night in PJs. We have a giant screen, a lounging bed with loads of pillows and blankets, and mountains of snacks to munch on while we watch. Are you up for it?”
“How fun. I haven’t taken time to watch a movie on a big screen in ages. This doesn’t seem like you though.” She laughs.
“I thought we’d try something different. We don’t have to party full-throttle all the time. We’ve been subjected to loads of stress, so a little relaxing downtime would do us both good. What do you think?” I ask, handing her a glass of champagne.
“Thanks. I could use a break.”
“Okay, let’s toast to watching old movies under the night sky. Cheers,” I say, and we clink glasses.
“Did you say old movies? What are we watching?”
“ Casablanca .”
“I love Casablanca , but I haven’t seen it in years.”
“Let’s get comfy and start the movie. It was one of my parents’ favorites.”
Lowri crawls onto the outdoor bed and nestles her back against a pile of pillows as I cover her with a plush blanket and place a bucket of caramel popcorn drizzled with white and dark chocolate on the side table near her.
Settling in beside Lowri, I’m careful not to crowd her.
Any intimacy tonight will be her choice.
“How did you know that’s my favorite popcorn?” she asks, moving the bucket to her lap and popping a few kernels into her mouth.
“I may have asked Cassie for snack suggestions.” I grin.
Turning to me, she says, “You’ve got to try this. It’s crunchy, sweet, a little salty—simply the perfect mouthful of snack heaven.”
Her animation over it is adorable. A warmth flows through me knowing she’s happy.
Not many women I’ve encountered, other than my mom, would find such pleasure in something as simple as popcorn.
Most expect diamonds and extravagant dinners.
Even those gifts don’t always elicit such pure appreciation and delight as I see on Lowri’s face now.
She’s simply different in such an amazing way.
I try a sample, reminding myself to thank Cassie for her help.
“I hope you’re sharing. That stuff is something else,” I say, grabbing the remote control to start the movie.
Lowri kindly puts the bucket of gourmet popcorn between us.
The movie starts with chaos erupting on the screen.
We’re engrossed as Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart portray the story of Ilsa and Rick reconnecting.
Despite knowing the ending, I can’t help rooting for their love. Turning to watch Lowri’s reaction, I wonder what we’re rooting for with each other.
As the movie nears the end, a cooling autumn breeze picks up, so I toss another blanket across us.
“It’s getting chilly,” she says, snuggling against me for the first time this evening.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head.
When Rick and Ilsa say their final goodbye, Lowri clutches my PJ top as tears gently roll down her cheeks. I wrap my other arm around her and whisper, “Don’t cry. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
“I’m okay. It’s just so romantic. Rick put everything on the line for his former love. Why doesn’t love like that exist in real life?”
“I’m starting to believe that it does,” I murmur, barely audible.
“What?”
“The movie’s a classic.”
When her breathing slows, I reach to my side table and snag a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Chocolate makes everything better. Take a bite,” I say, placing a giant strawberry against her luscious red lips.
She opens her mouth, allowing me to slip the tip in, and bites down. Chocolate bits drop onto the blanket and strawberry juice dribbles down her chin. I smile.
Lowri quickly sits up, covering her overfilled mouth. “I’m making a mess.” She giggles as she finishes chewing.
“Here, let me help.” I reach over and wipe her lips with my thumb and bring it to my mouth, unable to resist the elixir of chocolate, strawberry, and Lowri on my tongue.
She watches me closely, her eyes longing and wistful.
Reaching forward, I gently pull her back against my side and stretch a warm blanket over her shoulders. “Are you enjoying movie night?”
“I am. This is such a treat. How did you ever come up with this idea?”
“Dad. This is what he used to do when he screwed up with Mom. I hoped it would help mend things between us too.”
“What do you mean? We’re staying together for a couple more months. You’ll get to keep the hotel, and I’ll go home. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Isn’t that the promise?” she muses sadly.
“This isn’t about the hotel. This is about us.
You and I have avoided relationships, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings for significant people in our lives.
You are extraordinarily special to me. I haven’t been pretending.
I’ve wanted to be with you. It wasn’t about the hotel.
Every minute we’ve spent together, every date, every night, every everything has been real to me. ”
“It has? How can I be sure you’re not just trying to make sure I stay?”
“Shit. I’m so sorry I waited to tell you about the trust agreement. If I’d told you immediately, you never would have had reason to doubt our time together.”
“But you didn’t. Now I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
“I understand, but I’ll work to earn it back.
You already promised to stay, so tonight is not about that.
My only reason for planning this was to demonstrate that you’re important to me irrespective of the marriage and the ridiculous trust agreement.
You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of being with, and I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise. ”
“Are you sure you’re not trying to get into my pants again?”
“I wouldn’t have sent pajamas if that had been my goal tonight. Don’t get me wrong—they are sexy as hell on you. But I hoped the PJs would convey there are no expectations along those lines tonight. This was about spending time together and apologizing for being such an idiot.”
“Sometimes you surprise me. You’re always confident and don’t care what others think. Tonight I’m seeing another side.”
“I wasn’t confident tonight. I was afraid you wouldn’t show up.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“What changed your mind?”
“The truth?”
“Always.”
“It was a combination of curiosity and wanting to enjoy whatever was planned. I figured it would be something spectacular to ensure I stay and help you keep the Athena. Ultimately, I decided that showing up didn’t mean I had to forgive you.
I never expected this level of sincerity.
It’s as if you really do care about my feelings. ”
“I do,” I say, leaving off that I never dreamed it was possible to care as much as I do.
“Are guys in security watching us?”
“No. I ordered them to turn off the cameras.”
“Aren’t they worried about your safety? Don’t tell me you have security guards hidden somewhere in the shadows.”
“No. We compromised on security tonight. They gave me a panic button,” I say, pulling it out of my pocket.
She bursts out laughing. “Put that somewhere we won’t set it off accidentally. Walter walking in on us was bad enough. The last thing I want is your security team surrounding us with guns cocked.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I set the device on the side table despite Daniel’s orders to keep it on me at all times.
“Sean, you are special to me too. But I can’t handle secrets or being manipulated.”
“No more secrets. It crushed me to see how much I hurt you. Can you forgive me?”
“We have an undeniable connection. I’m working on the forgiveness part. Now, please pour me some champagne so I can make a toast,” she says.
I continue following orders, happy this is going in a positive direction and anxious to hear what she has in mind.
“To us—whatever that means and for however long it lasts.”
“To us,” I toast without the added qualifiers.
Lowri moves to sit sideways on my lap, wrapping her arms around me. We kiss. We cuddle. I want to smother her in pleasure but not tonight.
As sleep starts to take hold, Lowri softly asks, “Did movie night work this well with your mom?”
“It did. Dad even had a few additional tricks up his sleeve. Sometimes he hid air fans nearby to make sure it was cool enough that Mom would eventually snuggle next to him to stay warm.”
“You’re kidding. Did you do that tonight?”
“No, I wasn’t going to risk you thinking I was manipulating you.”
“Good call. You’re learning.”
Ironically, it’s been one of the most intimate nights I’ve ever spent with a woman, and we barely kissed.