32. Chapter Twenty-Five #2
He shakes his finger at her with a chuckle. “I see why he likes you.” He sighs happily and I can’t tell if he’s dense or plain stupid. Pulling out one of his business cards from the inside of his blazer, he extends it to Andrea. “If you ever want a real man, call me.”
She takes it with a smile like she’s thankful for the offer and then she rips it into four squares, letting it rain to the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Well, shit.
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t talk to people that way.”
“I can talk to people however I want, sweetheart.”
Andrea makes a hmph sound. “If that’s the case, then I suppose I can say you look like you’ve spent too much time in the sun and your nose hairs could use a trim.”
Carter chokes on a laugh somewhere behind us and I press my lips together to keep from smiling.
Steve looks at me, his face red in anger. “You’re going to let her speak to me that way?”
I shrug. “I’m an artist, not a mediator.”
His eyes widen in disbelief before turning on his heel, Thing One and Thing Two trailing after him with sour expressions.
Andrea turns to look at me, distraught. “I’m sorry, I know how much the foundation means to you, but can you believe that guy?
Ugh! The way he spoke to you like he’s better than you is just, well, fucking hilarious quite honestly.
” She shakes her head with a humorless laugh, detaching from me to put her hands on her hips.
“The nerve he has to belittle you in the very center of your success. Did he not look around and see whose name is on every piece of art here? The name on the building he’s standing in?
I want to strangle him, Julian. Granted, it might be hard.
His neck is kind of meaty, but I think I could manage—what?
” She pauses, brows furrowing. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
I realize that I’m frowning, and I look over at Abigail who’s pressing her lips together in a knowing smile. Lily’s giggling behind her hands while Carter and Michael are staring at her with shit-eating grins.
Fighting the pang of warmth hitting my chest, I clear my throat. “You just insulted Steve Danielson, heir to his father’s media empire. He’s one of the richest men in New York.”
“Nuh-uh.” She tenses, shaking her head in denial.
I bite my lower lip, grinning. “Uh-huh.”
“Oh, fuck.” She covers her mouth, her eyes widening to saucers. “Why are you smiling?” Her hands cup her face as she grimaces. “Oh, god, what have I done?”
I share a look with Abigail, which she responds to with a dip of her chin before ushering everyone away, including a whining Carter.
As a waitress passes, I swipe two glasses of champagne and hand one to a very stressed Andrea. “Your worry is for nothing.”
“Nothing?” She scoffs, her shoulders hanging in exasperation. “You should have elbowed me in the rib to make me stop talking.”
I take her hand and lead us over to the bar—which is relatively empty compared to the rest of the gallery—as she chugs all the bubbly from her glass.
I sit on a stool, keeping my back to the bar, and place my hand on her hip to tug her closer just because I can.
I’m also sick of seeing men look at her like she’s available. “You only said what I was thinking.”
“You saw his nose hairs too?” she asks, brows raised.
I laugh, the sound throatier to my ears than usual—Christ, what is she doing to me?
The thing I do next is instinctive and I can’t explain why I do it, but my lips find the curve of her neck. My lips ghost over her skin and I hear her small intake of air.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks, sounding breathless .
“You smell so sweet. . .like warm cherries,” I murmur and place a soft kiss below her ear.
Her body responds to me immediately. She presses further into me, and I wonder if she even knows she has her fingers tucked into the front pocket of my slacks.
“Do you feel your pulse slowing?” I drag my mouth over her jaw, taking the empty glass from her hand. “Your blood warming?”
She nods, that hand now grasping the back of my neck.
I smile against her skin. “Good, that means the champagne is working.”
Her fingernails dig into my skin. “You’re teasing me,” she breathes.
I pull back to look at her and rub my thumb over her full mouth.
I think about kissing her at least a hundred times a day.
A part of me knows she’d let me, but my instincts won’t let me take the lead with her.
I’ve lost too much to make such a reckless mistake.
I’m fond of everything that Andrea is and to take such risks that could result in losing her isn’t worth it.
“It’s either this or kill every man who can’t keep their eyes off you.”
Her lips twitch into a smile. “Possessive much?”
“Only when I find something worth possessing.” I drop my gaze and her eyes follow, seeing her hand fighting to pull me closer. “But I’m not the only one.”
I expect her to release me, but she doesn’t. No, instead, she meets my eyes. “I might be thinking of stabbing out the eyes of every woman who can’t stop staring at you .”
“Go ahead,” I encourage. “The only eyes I want on me are yours.”
She swallows, her chest warming to a beautiful shade of soft red. I notice her skin does the same thing when she drinks wine, so I know it’s the champagne.
“You always know what to say.” She wets her lips. “It would be easier if you were terrible at flirting.”
“What would—”
“Andrea, is that you?” We both turn at the interruption. A blond-haired man wearing glasses and looking like the Walmart version of Clark Kent eyes Andrea with a familiarity that has my hackles rising.
She takes a step away from me and touches her hand to her forehead.
“Paul, wow, hi! I didn’t think you’d come.
” So, she invited him then. It puts a bitter taste of jealousy in my mouth.
When she moves to what I believe is to hug him, I purposely don’t let go.
She shoots me an exasperated look but doesn’t fight it.
Offering the man a polite look, she asks, “Is Kara here, too?”
“Uh, no. I’m afraid not.” He glances between us and then to where my hands are wrapped firmly around her. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh!” I love that her face lights up with a smile. “This is Julian Havord.”
I reach over to shake his hand. “Her boyfriend.”
“You’re also the man of the hour then,” he states, but I don’t miss the flash of disappointment in his demeanor. “How did you two meet?” he asks Andrea.
“We live together.”
Paul frowns. “So, you’ve been together a while then?”
Andrea laughs awkwardly. “It’s new, but. . .fast?” She laughs harder, overdoing it this time. “What can I say? When you know, you know.”
“And we did know,” I add as I rub my thumb over her hip, wishing I was touching bare skin instead.
“That’s great,” he responds, his words sounding forced. “I’m happy for you. Excuse me a moment, I need to check with the sitter to see how Kara’s doing.”
Andrea nods, reaching over to touch his arm. “Of course. Tell her I said hi, yeah?”
He nods, smiling warmly at her and I don’t like it; not one bit. Once he’s finally gone, I stare at Andrea, who has found the ceiling very interesting at this particular moment.
“Ma cerise,” I murmur, brushing my lips over her shoulder. I love the way she shivers, and I absolutely adore the way it gives me her full attention again.
“You’ve scared Paul,” she tells me, though I don’t think she cares that much.
“I think if an ant jumped out it’d scare Paul.”
She snorts. “I think I need more champagne.”
I hand her my glass, and she takes a sip. “Is there a reason you invited him?” I ask.
She nods, wiping her mouth with a knuckle, drawing my eyes there. “His daughter is one of my students. I was only trying to be nice. His wife passed away three years ago. Kara told me he doesn’t do much. I think he’s really lonely.”
“That’s sweet of you,” I admit, but it doesn’t end my urgent need to stake my claim. “But you’re not his company to keep, you’re mine.”
Rolling her eyes, she leans closer, bracing her hands on either side of the bar to cage me in. “What makes you so sure?”
She’s daring me and fuck it; I’m taking the bait.
I swipe the champagne glass from her and drain the liquid into my mouth before towering over her.
I trail my fingers over her chin, and then my hand frames her jaw delicately.
Slowly, I lean in to test her response to me.
The moment her lip’s part, I let the champagne pour from my mouth to hers .
Her hands immediately reach up, grasping onto my sides in alarm. I keep my mouth a breath away from hers as she swallows, her eyes never leaving mine.
I graze my nose over hers. “Prove me wrong, then.”