Chapter Nine
Horatio
The snow was piled nearly two feet high on Friday morning when we finally crawled out of bed.
Dade’s ass would likely be sore for the rest of the day.
He assured me he didn’t care.
I was still a little stunned at my stamina. Yes, forty-one wasn’t old. But some days, I felt that way.
Dade insisted I sit at the kitchen bar while he puttered away, making blueberry pancakes, bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice. Positively decadent.
He leaned over the island to plant a kiss on my cheeks. “We’re going to burn off all these calories.”
I arched an eyebrow at his obvious correct reading of my ruminations.
He swatted my biceps with an oven mitt. “Not that way.” He considered. “Okay, maybe that way later.”
“You must be sore—”
Another swat. “I like it. No, I meant we’re going out walking in the snow.”
“Are you serious?” I glanced out to see the enormous pile of snow on my balcony. Snow that continued to fall.
“We’ll stick to plowed sidewalks.” He flipped the pancakes. “We need fresh air. That’ll make us tired. We’ll nap, then we’ll make love again a few times before we hunker down to boeuf bourguignon.”
Make love? When did we progress from fuck to make love? And why does that not scare me?
“Sounds perfect.” I eyed the overcast skies. “Well, except the cold.”
“You’re a good Canadian. A hearty boy.”
I laughed. “I’m from the west coast. I have thin blood. That hearty stuff is for prairie folk. Or the crazy ones who live in Newfoundland.”
“Elouise Hynes is from Newfoundland, you know. Oh, there’s a production assistant on Vigilante Justice who’s from the Rock as well. Seamus something…” He eyed his phone. He’d done that repeatedly while cooking our meal.
Part of me was a little irritated with Elouise for having gotten his hopes up.
He might pretend it didn’t matter, but he really wanted that call.
I almost brought it up—because I was curious to know if he’d get a call from his agent, or if he’d hear from someone on the show—but I held off the interrogation, as he liked to put it.
My curiosity could certainly wait. He’d tell me. Of that, I was certain.
“Let’s eat at the kitchen table.” He offered me a grin. “I want to play footsie, and that’s harder on barstools.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. I wasn’t known for games. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d never played footsie before. For him, though? I’d do anything. “Sure, that sounds great.”
“Fantastic. Can you grab the OJ? Then we need coffee, the food, and real Canadian maple syrup.”
“Nothing but real Canadian maple syrup.” I smiled because his earnestness spoke to me.
The burst of blueberry had my tastebuds singing with delight—the syrup the perfect chaser. The bacon’s crispness was pure perfection.
Oh, and the company delighted.
Dade recounted all our adventures from the night before, but made them far funnier than I would’ve seen them. He even made a show of checking the newspaper’s website to see if Lucille had written an exposé on the two of us.
She hadn’t.
Yet.
I planned to bend Walter’s ear, as he and Gordon were excellent friends, as well as golf buddies. Which reminded me… “Are you interested in golf lessons this spring?”
Dade stilled.
Oh shit.
Then he grinned. “You teaching me? You going to get all handsy when you show me the right stance? Do we get to make out in the clubhouse?”
Laughter burst out of me. “Uh, no. Well, maybe handsy, but no making out.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Then I don’t know—”
I leaned over to kiss his lips.
His tongue sought mine.
My heart soared.
Fun. He was just fun. He lightened my heart. I saw the enjoyable side of things. And not once this morning had I given my laptop a thought. My cell phone sat on the table, and anything truly urgent would come through that. Everything else could just fucking wait.
Dade pulled back. “Keep that up, and we’ll never make it outside.”
I winked.
“Oh, that’s your nefarious plan? Keep me all sexed up so we never leave?”
“I don’t see why not.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Well, I’m not fooled.”
Boldly, he reached and pressed his hand to my crotch.
Naturally, my cock perked up.
He grinned. “Later, okay?” For just a moment, he appeared uncertain. Like maybe he’d pushed too far.
I snagged the back of his neck and dragged him in for a long-and-drugging kiss. Finally, breathless, I pulled back. “Always okay.”
“Great. You check your email while I do the dishes, and then we’ll meet in the front hall.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to work.” I tried for a pout.
He tweaked my nose. “A zebra can’t change her stripes. You’ve eyed your phone at least thirty times during our quick meal. Check, reassure yourself, then put it away for the day.”
Warmth suffused me. He understood. Being CEO of a large corporation, responsible for over a thousand people, meant disconnecting was hard. But, for him, I’d try. When we went away, I’d leave Bethany in charge of everything.
When we go away…
There I was, planning the future again. I just couldn’t help myself.
Dade pressed his thumb to the crease between my eyebrows. “Why so serious?”
“I…” I cleared my throat. “I think I might be falling for you.” Jesus, talk about putting it all out there.
“Well, I’ve already fallen for you. Charming, handsome, and generous? What’s not to love?” He pecked my cheek, scooped up our plates, and headed back to the kitchen.
Love? And I noted he hadn’t listed wealthy. As clear as anything, I knew my money meant nothing to him. I could keep him in a lavish lifestyle, and he’d either refuse or hate it within the first day. He had a strong work ethic. He had to, in order to keep pounding the pavement as an actor.
I checked my email, found nothing urgent, sent a quick text to Bethany, and was about to pocket my phone when her return text arrived—admonishing me for being on my phone while admitting she’d been doing the same.
I texted back, and we fell into a conversation about the previous night.
Apparently Walter had confirmed with Lucille that she didn’t have any nefarious plans to do anything about Dade. Or me.
Feeling a modicum of relief, I startled when Dade dropped a pair of leather gloves on the table.
“Horatio, I said, like, five minutes.”
“Sure.”
“It’s been a half hour.”
Guiltily, I glanced at my phone. He was right. I tucked it into my back pocket and rose. “Have your wicked way with me.”
His eyes lit blue fire. “Say stuff like that, and we’ll never make it out into the snow.”
“I do believe that’s the point?”
He chuckled, lightly slapped my arm, then snagged my hand and dragged me toward the front door.
With a light heart, I dressed in my down-filled coat, a stupid wool cap, leather gloves, and sturdy winter boots.
Dade also had a hat—although his was rainbow colored with a purple pompom. His scarf was also a bright explosion of color.
I wasn’t convinced his jacket would be warm enough, and I spotted a hole in his mittens.
Too bad Christmas had already passed. On the other hand, Valentine’s Day was just yesterday.
Would he appreciate a new pair of mittens with the concern I’d be giving them for, or would he see me as being overbearing?
He met my gaze. “What?”
“You have a hole in your mitten.”
He held it up and waggled it in my face. “That’s not getting you out of a walk in the snow.”
“I’m quite certain of that. I just…could I buy you a new pair?”
A long moment passed as he held my gaze. “I suppose. As long as it doesn’t become a thing.”
Ah. He got it. As did I. Pride was a thing. “I promise to keep it to practical things, then.”
He gave me an imperious look, trying to look down his nose at me while being forced to look up because I was taller. “You’re going to stretch that, aren’t you?”
“Would that be so bad?”
After smacking my chest with his light mittens, he pressed a kiss to my lips. “I don’t love you for your money.”
“And I love you because you don’t want my money.”
We both stilled. Our gazes held.
“Did you just…?” He looked down.
I guided his chin up so our gazes met. “Yeah, I just did.”
“Cool. Snow.”
He pressed a kiss to my lips, then we tumbled out of the condo.
Said snow was light and fluffy. As Dade had predicted, many of the sidewalks were plowed. As I’d predicted, plenty of dirty slush abounded, and piles of snow often blocked our route as we ventured farther south along Jervis Street.
Dade pointed to one of the newer residential buildings. “How does that even stay upright?”
“No idea. But it’s the place to live downtown these days.”
He snickered. “Because it’s so ugly. I love your place, with those amazing views.” He paused. “But that’s not why I want to be with you.”
“No, you just want my magic cock.”
He wiggled his ass.
A woman walking a poodle gave us the once-over. “Well, nothing like being honest.” Then she walked on, her little one following with his nose in the air and adorable yellow booties on his paws.
“Hey, does your condo allow pets?”
I eyed Dade. “Yes.”
“Cool. How about kids?”
Before I could answer that yes, children were allowed and why was he asking, his phone rang.
He gave me a sheepish look.
I waved for him to take the call.
“Hello?”
To my surprise, he put the call on speaker.
“Dade Simard?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Hey, this is Cole Hamilton.”
We both stilled. The lead actor on the series. The Vigilante in Vigilante Justice.
“You there?”
“Uh, yeah…” Dade’s eyes were wide with…panic? Excitement?
“So, I know this is unusual, but I asked the producer if I could give you the call. Elouise said she saw you last night and kind of let the cat out of the bag—”
“She didn’t say anything,” Dade was quick to interject.
Cole laughed—a rich, deep sound. “Yes, Elouise’s mouth runs away from her sometimes. Anyway, we want to offer you the part. Of course, you’ll need to talk to your agent—”
“Yes! I accept! Uh…where do I sign?”
Dade fumbled through his pockets with the hand not gripping his phone.
I stilled his hand.
He met my gaze, drew in a breath, then let it out. “Mr. Hamilton, I cannot tell you how excited I am.”
“Please, it’s Cole. We’re going to be working together closely this season. The executive producer, Valentino Langston, will contact your agent to work out the details. I wanted to give you the heads-up because we need you in the studio on Tuesday. If you’re available…”
“I’ll be there. Oh my God, I’ll so be there.”
“Great. See you then. And, Dade?”
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“And I want to hear all about your gorgeous date. Elouise was raving about him.”
Dade grinned. “I can do that.”
Cole cut the connection.
Once Dade’s phone screen went dark, he pocketed it. “Did that just really happen?”
I yanked him against me and gave him the longest, sweetest, and hottest kiss on record. When I pulled back, I smiled. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Can we celebrate?”
“Of course.”
“Can I call my agent first?”
I kissed his cheek. “Naturally.”