Chapter 33 #2
“What makes you say that?”
“You do have a history of feeding me my favorite food when you try to talk me into something.”
“Okay, I confess. I do, and I’m not even sorry about it.”
“You’re not just devious. You’re downright shameless.”
“I’ve been advised to use my strengths... which include shameless tactics.”
“Who advised you?”
“Common friends.”
“Sounds like something Amelia would say.”
“Right on the first try.”
“I need to attend a function tomorrow evening. Come with me.”
“You think you’re going to have problems with the immigration office if you’re not seen with me?”
“I don’t care about the immigration office. I want you there as my wife. Sorry—I misspoke. As a friend.”
I chuckled, even as my chest filled with so much joy, I felt like doing a happy dance. I was going to see him.
“You misspoke? Really? That’s your excuse?”
“I’ve been advised not to pressure you… to give you your time.”
“And this is you following that advice?”
“I’m halfway there. But I think me not showing up at Tess’s place, throwing you over my shoulder, and taking you back home counts for something.”
“It definitely does.”
“I’m an impatient man.”
“And don’t I know that?”
“I just want us to spend time together, Josie. As friends, whatever makes you comfortable. I’ll be wearing a tux, by the way.”
“More bribing. Wow. You’re taking this to a whole new level.”
“You haven’t answered me yet.”
His voice was playful, but I detected worry behind all that. Apprehension. This was our decisive moment. And God, I wanted this so much. I wasn’t giving up on us as a couple. Yes, we were best friends, but wasn’t that the very best thing that could happen to a husband and wife?
Oh my god! That had been his exact plan with the phone calls. I smiled, shaking my head. He knew me so well.
“I’ll be there. And I’ll be wearing something pretty.”
The function tomorrow was about celebrating the opening of the school that Hunter’s company had built. It wasn’t a Ballroom Gala. It was a party in his honor at a restaurant.
“Then you’ll forgive me if I flirt with you, friend ?”
“Hunter….”
“No, don’t answer that. My fault for asking anyway. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Can’t wait.”
I was grinning by the time we said goodbye, hugging the phone to my chest.
The next morning, I woke up early with far too much energy. Running didn’t help shed it. On the contrary, I had more energy. Probably adrenaline.
If I thought I’d been nervous anticipating his calls, boy, that was nothing compared to how I felt now. I had Hunter on my mind. Lodged in my heart. Under my skin. To kill time, I started preparations for the night right after lunch, beginning with a trip to a nearby beauty store.
Half an hour later, I learned a valuable lesson: do not go to a beauty store when you’re on pins and needles.
You might end up emptying your bank account buying beauty products.
I came home with no less than four products for my hair and three for body care. The vendor had patiently explained how and when to use each, but I forgot all about it by the time I brought everything into Tess’s bathroom.
Holy hell. How was I going to make it through tonight if I was already such a nervous mess?
Come on, Josie. You’re a lawyer. You can still recite two hundred laws you learned six years ago. You will not be defeated by a freaking hair care program.
I figured it out eventually. The oil needed to be applied one hour before washing my hair. Conditioner and the second oil came before the mask.
The body care collection was easier to figure out.
The first step was dry brushing. I was particularly looking forward to that.
I’d seen so many ads and celebrity endorsements swearing by the benefits of dry brushing: smoother skin, better circulation, and my favorite—improved appearance of cellulite.
I wondered if it was true, or just another fad.
No time like the present to test it. After rubbing oil on my scalp, I brushed my thighs and bum with a lot of dedication before jumping in the shower and finishing the hair program.
I was so proud of myself for doing all this. So proud. Until I stepped out of the shower and felt my thighs and buttocks itch. I glanced in the mirror. What the actual hell?
I had scratched myself all over the back of my thighs and my ass. I applied the hydrating oil I’d bought with one hand, googling “is it normal to scratch yourself during dry brushing” with the other.
Of course, it wasn’t. It took a special talent.
That was why I never bothered. I was clumsy.
But I persisted with my efforts, curling my lashes with an eye-curler before applying mascara.
Deciding on my outfit took ten minutes. I was ready and dressed by five-fifty. Talk about being punctual. I was?—
The doorbell rang, and just like that, everything returned with a vengeance: the butterflies, the sweaty palms. More than ever, I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through tonight. But in order to start it, I had to open that door.
He was wearing a tux. Hot damn. That was my kryptonite.
How was I supposed to not say yes to anything he demanded?
And judging by that smoldering look, he planned to demand a lot.
He was also wearing a shirt that required cuff links.
Hmm… really? He knew I loved cuff links.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was out to seduce me.
Who was I kidding? He totally was. And I wasn’t sure I could resist him.
My heart, which had already felt twice its size, just seemed to keep growing.
He didn’t say anything at first, just slowly raked his gaze over me. My body reacted as if he’d trailed kisses everywhere. I could barely withstand the simmering heat.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
I chuckled, twirling around, pretending to be showing off. Instead, I was steeling myself, hoping his gaze wouldn’t smolder as much when I faced him.
Nope. No such luck. If anything, he’d turned the heat up. We both laughed. His hand shook slightly. Was he as overcome with emotion as I was?
I stole a glance at him, focusing on the pure joy in his eyes, but then my gaze landed on his lips. They looked so kissable. So, so kissable.
He drew in a sharp breath. Damn. He’d seen me looking. I carefully avoided his eyes, focusing instead on his outstretched hand.
The second our fingers touched, my skin sizzled. He didn’t miss it. I was too caught off guard to be able to hide it. And just like that, the air around us thickened with tension. He flashed me a sinful smile that turned downright smug when he caught me looking at his cuff links.
Yeah, he was definitely wearing them on purpose. He drew his thumb slowly up and down my hand.
“Ready?” When I didn’t reply right away, he leaned in slightly.
He was so close. So, so close. His cheek was nearly touching mine.
I could feel the warmth of his skin, the five o’clock shadow on his face.
He moved his hand from the top of my hand up my arm, finally resting it on my waist. I sucked in a breath, completely overwhelmed by his masculine charm.
When the corner of his mouth touched mine, heat speared through me. I needed more of his touch, of him.
I couldn’t help but lean in, searching more of his warmth. He grinned.
“Careful, friend. You might fool me into thinking you want more than my friendship if you keep at this.”
I’d asked for this, hadn’t I?
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said.
“How?”
“Like you want to undress me.”
“You look gorgeous. You can’t fault me.”
“I totally can. And I am.”