20. Brooke
brOOKE
The sun shining through a skylight awakens me from a peaceful sleep.
I smile as I realize my hand rests on Stuart’s chest, our legs intertwined.
It feels so natural lying beside him. Letting my index finger lightly trace the contours of his defined muscles, I watch the steady rhythm of the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Noticing his upturned lips, I wonder if he’s dreaming about last night. I certainly did.
It hits me that this is the second time I’ve awoken in Stuart’s bed. There’s a big difference this time. He’s beside me. And last night we crossed another line. No, it was more like a canyon.
There’s no going back. I should regret it, but I don’t.
Our chemistry is more powerful than any I’ve ever experienced.
Being together felt so right. I think that’s from an old song.
What are the words? Something about it can’t be wrong when it feels that good.
That’s not exactly it, but maybe it’s true if someone wrote a whole song about it.
It was almost too perfect. Our connection is intense yet strangely comfortable. I can’t even be bothered to worry about how I look this morning. If he liked me covered in sand, I doubt he’ll mind my mussed hair. He’s to blame for it anyway.
“Mmm. Your hands are so soft,” a husky voice murmurs.
My heart flutters when I notice a sexy grin spread across his face.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Morning. Have you been awake long?” he asks, turning toward me and propping up on one arm.
“I’m only half awake. Just enjoying lazing in bed with you.
” I can’t believe how good he looks this early in the morning.
His wavy hair drapes across his forehead, and his eyes hold a mystery I’d love to spend the rest of the day solving.
I really don’t want this moment to end. We’ll be forced back to reality far too soon with the premiere tonight.
As if reading my mind, he says, “I’d happily spend all day here with you. What do you say to breakfast in bed?”
My stomach growls at the mention of food. “I’m starving as you just heard, so breakfast is a definite yes. Where can we find food? It’s not like they have room service here.”
“Something tells me that they do. Where’s the remote for Genie?”
I roll over, pick up the remote from the bedside table, and hand it to Stuart. “Here you go.”
He pushes a button and speaks into the device. “Genie, can we order breakfast to be delivered to us?”
Genie responds, “Good morning, Brooke and Stuart. Of course, you may order breakfast. What would you like?”
“Brooke, you order. I like everything,” he says.
“Okay, Genie, we would like coffee and orange juice. We’d also like two omelets with ham, mushrooms, and cheese along with toast and fresh strawberries.”
“Thank you for your order, Brooke. You don’t have to wait for coffee. A single-serve coffee maker and pods are available in the kitchenette. The rest of your breakfast will be delivered in approximately thirty minutes. If you need anything else, please let me know.”
“Thanks, Genie,” I say, laughing.
“It’s time for Genie to go back to sleep now,” he says, pushing the button to turn off listening mode.
“I have to admit that she’s handy for breakfast orders.”
“That she is. I’d still rather she not listen to us.”
“Agreed. Would you like me to make coffee.”
“Definitely not. You should stay under the covers. Let me take care of you. Do you like cream or sugar?” he asks as he crawls out of bed, slipping on his skin-hugging, black boxer briefs.
My heart skips a beat. Insisting on making the coffee is a small thing, but it’s so considerate and unexpected.
“Just plain for me. The stronger the better,” I say, sinking back against the plush pillows and closing my eyes.
Within minutes, the aroma of my favorite morning elixir permeates the air. I sit up, propping myself against a pile of plush pillows as Stuart approaches, extending a large white mug.
I accept the cup, lowering my nose into the swirl of steam rising above the rim. Breathing deeply, my mouth waters in anticipation as a low groan escapes my mouth.
Stuart chuckles, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think it’s orgasmic.”
I playfully punch him in the arm. “You’re so funny. No need to be jealous though. You would win the competition every time. But coffee’s the next best thing. And yes, I’ll admit it. I’m addicted.” I sigh, blowing across the rim, anxious for my first sip of the day.
“Good to know. You had me worried there for a minute. I’d hate to come in second to coffee in the pleasure category.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting our banter.
“That must be breakfast. I’ll get it.”
Shaking a finger at me, he says, “No. Remember, I’m taking care of you this morning. So, be a good girl and stay right where you are.”
“Last night, I didn’t get the impression you wanted me to be good,” I tease.
He lets out a hearty laugh, gives me a kiss on the forehead, and walks to the door, mumbling, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I sip my coffee, hoping to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Stuart is killing me too, but in such an amazing way. It’s as if I’m his princess for the day.
Stuart pushes a wheeled cart laden with food toward his side of the bed and crawls back under the covers.
“Let’s start with the strawberries and whipped cream,” he says with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
He picks up a berry by its stem and swirls it in the bowl of yummy cream. Moving it toward my mouth, he holds his other hand underneath to catch any drips.
I lick my lips in anticipation.
“Open wide,” he says as he slips the tip of the strawberry into my awaiting mouth.
“Mmm,” I moan. “That’s so good. You are spoiling me.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He leans over carefully, licking the excess cream from my lips as he crawls on top of me.
So much for breakfast. I like his plan better.
Over two hours later, we’re satiated, showered, and dressed. We would have been ready earlier, but Stuart suggested it would be more efficient to shower together. It was more fun. It wasn’t efficient at all.
I never realized all the different uses for a shower bench. We ran out of time before trying them all though. Maybe we’ll have another chance. That thought puts a smile on my face.
Stuart’s phone dings.
“Is that the replacement car and driver?”
“It is. He’s arriving now. We should find Evan and Sean to say goodbye on our way out.”
“Sounds good.”
We try to thank Sean and Evan, but the housekeeper lets us know that they each had overnight guests. I guess we weren’t the only ones who didn’t get much sleep last night.
Stuart says, “I’ll text them later to let them know we had to leave.”
We climb into the back seat of the black sedan that’s waiting for us in the driveway. No limo this time, so we don’t have the same privacy as on the drive up here. It’s just as well. We’ve had a busy morning already.
Stuart turns to look at me just as my stomach rumbles. We never ate.
He reaches for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he speaks to the driver. “Could you find us somewhere to pick up coffee and bagels or pastries? We haven’t had anything to eat.”
“Of course. Would you prefer to stop at a restaurant for breakfast?”
“No. We don’t have time if we’re going to make the first appointment. Something we can eat in the car would be best.”
“No problem, sir. There’s the perfect place half a mile ahead.”
With the jolt of caffeine and a cherry pastry in hand, the world is a better place. Based on the satisfied look on Stuart’s face, he agrees.
“So, what are the errands we’re running?”
“A little shopping for tonight. I thought we’d pick out a new outfit for you. I made an appointment at a shop on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.”
“That’s generous of you, but not necessary. I have a great dress for tonight, so we can skip the shopping. That will save us time.”
“I know it’s not required. I wanted to do something special for you. I thought all women liked shopping.”
“Shopping is great when I need to buy something new. I already have a dress. Save your money. And please don’t insult me by suggesting you owe me for last night.”
“That wasn’t how I meant it. You’re special. I want to treat you. That’s all. The fact that you don’t want me to spend money on you is even more impressive. You’re certainly not like the other women I typically date.”
“That should be a good thing.”
“It’s unexpected,” he says, his brows furrowed in confusion.
His phone rings.
“Sorry, it’s my dad. I need to take this.”
“No problem. I’ll listen to music and catch up on email.”
It’s just past midday when Stuart drops me off at my apartment. As I say goodbye and tell him I’ll see him at the premiere, he insists on picking me up so we can arrive together. I relent, knowing that my firm expects me to shadow him at the event.
Checking the time, I calculate that he’ll be back in less than three hours to pick me up.
With little time to waste, I toss my purse and dirty clothes onto the sofa and hurry to the kitchen.
The late breakfast snack won’t tide me over until tonight, so I rummage through my refrigerator for leftovers.
I find part of a roasted chicken, an apple, and half of a package of preprepared salad.
I’m in luck. That’s more than I’d usually have on hand for lunch.
Given that I’m almost always at work for lunch and dinner, there’s no point in keeping my fridge stocked.
I need a quick break from the whirlwind of my current life, so I force myself to plate my meal rather than eating it out of the grocery store containers. Sitting at the table, I eat while scrolling through the latest social media posts.
I pause in shock when a photo of me with Stuart pops up. The caption says, “What’s up? Not his usual type.”
Oh, no. At least, I’m wearing a suit instead of the shorts from the beach house.
Wait just a second! Why am I not his type? I’m not a model, but most men find me attractive.
What’s wrong with me being with him? Ugh. Don’t go down that path. I shouldn’t even care. Nothing can come of Stuart and me. I need to shake this off.
Before I saw the post, I knew that tonight would be difficult, particularly since I’ll be arriving with Stuart. Now, I have to also pretend that I’m good enough to stand beside him on the red carpet.
We’ll need to be careful to avoid public displays of affection, which will be hard.
At the party last night, we were constantly touching each other, even if it was only holding hands.
It was a safe place because no mobile phones were allowed.
But the premiere will be different. Cameras will be everywhere, and at least ten lawyers from my firm will be present, including the Triple Threat.
There won’t be any room for mistakes. The members of Triple Threat are already upset that I took an opportunity away from them.
Despite their protests, it’s clear they thought one of them should be hosting Stuart since he’s a viscount.
If I mess up, the Triple Threat will make sure the senior partners hear about it.
That means they’ll be looking for anything that will make me look bad. Getting rid of the competition is their standard procedure, and right now, they see me as a competitor. I won’t give them the satisfaction of chasing me from the firm though.
Stuart and I must be careful.