Not by coincidence, but for me.
I have not an ounce of control over my eyes as they rove all over her, eating her up. She’s stunning in black high-heeled boots, a taupe sweaterdress molded to her curves, and her bright-red wool coat.
I start to stand up from my stool, but she shakes her head slightly as she walks toward me. I feel my heart pumping hard with every step she takes.
When she reaches me, her look is almost shy, which I find utterly charming on this self-possessed and confident woman.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here,” I say by way of breaking the ice. “Ford isn’t coming to meet me for drinks tonight, is he?”
The corners of her mouth tip up slightly. “No. It was a ruse to find out where you were.”
“And you flew here to see me?”
She takes a step closer, touching her fingers against my knee. So innocent a touch, and yet it hits me with the power of a lightning strike. “I flew here to see you,” she affirms softly. “I had to see you.”
Leary opens her mouth but I quickly cover her lips with my fingers. “If you’re here, by some chance, to reconcile with me, I’m going to save you a lot of time and effort. Just nod your head if that’s the case.”
Her eyes go round in surprise and I can feel her smile under my fingers. She gives a quick nod and I pull my hand away, replacing my touch with my mouth. I kiss her fast and hard, my arms coming around her waist to pull her into me. She answers by sliding her fingers in my hair and holding on tight while we explore each other’s mouths, sitting in a bar in New York City.
She tries to pull away from me, muttering against my lips, “I need to apologize—”
“Shut up, Leary,” I manage to say before I kiss her again.
She submits fully, her hands going to my neck this time and holding me hard as we kiss and make up.
Finally, I let her up for air. I pull my mouth away and stare at her, my heart for the first time in days feeling peaceful.
Her fingertips come up and gently trace my lips. “We need to talk,” she says softly.
“We need to fuck,” I correct her and turn to get the bartender’s attention. I motion him to cash me out and turn back to Leary.
“Reeve,” she admonishes, “we’ve got some things to resolve—”
“Hold on to that thought,” I tell her and pull out my phone. I shoot off two texts.
First to Ford: I owe you, buddy.
The second to Cal: Dinner’s canceled. Leary flew to New York.
Both short and sweet with no other explanation needed. I expect Cal will understand this means I can’t accept the job, but I’ll call him later just to make sure.
Ignoring Leary, I turn back and find that the bartender has brought back my credit card and the receipt. I leave him a ridiculously large tip because I am fucking ridiculously beside myself right this minute.
Pocketing my phone and credit card, I grab Leary’s hand and drag her out of the bar. I take an immediate right out of the door. Thank God my hotel is just three blocks away.
When we make it a block, Leary starts pulling on my hand. “Reeve, stop. Let me get this out.”
I ignore her, plowing forward, completely intent on elbowing people out of my way if they think to impede the progress I’m making toward getting Leary into my hotel room and naked.
She tugs again on my hand, and I tighten my grasp so she doesn’t slip loose.
“Reeve,” she says with frustration, “you need to let me apologize.”
“Apology accepted,” I tell her quickly and then shoot her a wink.
She wrenches free of me, and I immediately stop in my tracks to turn back to her. Someone bumps into me hard and curses, but I ignore it. She’s glaring at me, her hands on her hips with the throngs of New York rush-hour pedestrians swarming by us.
I lunge for her hand and growl, “I apologized; you apologized. It’s done. Now let’s get to the makeup-sex part. We can talk details later.”
“Stop it!” she yells at me, loud enough that several people turn their heads as they walk by. “We need to talk.”
Her face is determined.
Beautiful, regretful, angry, and so determined.
Sighing in my own frustration, I rake my hand through my hair and throw my arms out to the side. I yell right back at her, “Fine. Lay it on me. Do you want me to apologize some more for hurting you? Betraying you? Want me to get down on my knees here in the middle of a New York sidewalk and beg your forgiveness? Just tell me what you want, because I will give it to you. I’ll give you anything to make this all better so we can be together again.”
For the most part, we’re ignored, although I swear I hear one woman call out as she walks by, “Make him grovel.”
That gets a smirk out of Leary, but she shakes her head at me and takes a step closer. Her hand comes out and grasps my tie, just below the knot. She goes up on her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on my mouth.
“I don’t want you to do anything but listen to me,” she says softly. “I know you’re sorry. I’m sorry, too. And you’re right, we can discuss the details of apologies and forgiveness later. But I have something more important to say to you.”
“Like what?” I ask with a smile because, fuck, she’s adorable right now.
“I need to say thank you for Rhonda Valasquez. You put your entire career on the line to help me, and I can never repay you for that.”
“I don’t want anything for that,” I tell her quickly.
She gives me a knowing smile. “No, I suppose you don’t. But the sentiment is still the same. It was a brave and courageous thing you did. You risked everything for me.”
“I did,” I tell her softly, not realizing how much I needed her to understand the lengths to which I would go for her. “I’d do it again and again for you.”
She nods and steps in even closer. “But the most important thing I need to say to you, before you haul me up to your hotel room, is that I love you. It’s scary how much I love you, and I couldn’t go another day without seeing you and telling you that. That’s why I came to New York. I simply couldn’t let you go another minute without knowing that.”
“You love me?” I ask, not quite believing I’d hear those words from her so soon. I figured maybe . . . one day . . . she’d get there. When she was really over what I did to her. One day I’d earn her trust back and get those miraculous words.
“I love you,” she reiterates. “And you love me, too.”
I blink at her, not because I disagree, but because she sounds so confident in her assessment. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because of the risks you took for me. It told me all I needed to know about the depth of your feelings. Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong,” I assure her. “I love you very much, Leary. And I’m sorry for what happened—”
Leary’s mouth finds mine again, and the sounds and bustle of New York melt away. I let her lips and sweet tongue possess me, and I forget about everything else that exists in the world except for this woman.
She pauses our kiss just long enough to mutter against me, “No more apologies. Let’s move forward, okay?”
Leaning in, I touch my forehead to hers and nod. “Forward.”
“Good,” she says and presses her lips against mine again. I can feel the curve of her smile lying sweet against my own.
“And by forward, do you think that might mean toward the hotel?” I ask her deviously.
“Yeah, that would definitely be good,” she agrees and then proceeds to kiss me deeply again.
Finally, I break the kiss, because otherwise I’m going to be sporting a massive fucking hard-on in the middle of lower Manhattan, and the longer we stand here kissing, the longer it takes to get her naked and in bed.
Grabbing her hand again, I look down at her and smile big. “Ready?”
“More than,” she agrees, and we take off, practically running toward my hotel.