"Yes, why? Oh, no, I scheduled the inspection for today," I slapped a hand against my forehead. "I'm sorry, but I got hung up with work."
"Kya, you can't afford to forget about this place. It's perfect for a young, single executive like you. And, there's been another offer, a cash offer. I can do the inspection for you. We can close on this place by this afternoon," he said.
I could not breathe. The idea of losing the house was not what choked me, it was the house itself. Once I closed on it, I would be putting down roots in Chicago. What if I belonged somewhere else?
"I don't want to rush into anything," I said.
"This isn't something to wait on, they want to take the other deal," he said. "I've got to tell them something today."
I cleared my throat. "Then, tell them I'm out. The other people can have it. There will be other houses."
"Not in this neighborhood, not at this price. Remember the equity you can build with it?" My real estate agent started to panic.
"I'm just not ready. I'm sorry. We can talk more soon," I said. I felt bad, but I hung up the phone. My guilt was forgotten as soon as I caught sight of Fenton sitting up in bed. His black tattoos stood out against the white sheets and he rumpled his black hair while he yawned.
He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and stood up. "I suppose you've got to be getting back to Chicago soon," he said.
I wondered how much of my phone conversation he had heard. "Maybe," I said.
"It'll be good, getting home, I bet. I mean, I'm happy you're here, but we both need to concentrate on work, stay focused. Right?" He stretched and headed for the bathroom without even looking at me.
"Work. Right," I said. I started to follow him, I needed to look in his eyes to understand what he was saying, but my phone rang. "Speaking of work, it's my boss."
Fenton waved me off and closed the bathroom door. I hesitated, but answered my boss' call.
"You pulled it off, you genius agent vixen!" James shouted.
"Too early for yelling, never a good time to call me a vixen," I said.
"I'll call you lord and master if you tell me the contract I sent out this morning is going to be signed by Fenton Morris. We will have the biggest party when you get back!"
I wandered out into the living room and leaned my forehead against the window. Vegas was bright in the late morning sun, and there were people teeming far below. The words "when you get back" sank into my stomach and I did not feel well.
"What if I don't come back?" I asked. "What if I stay in Vegas and work from here for a while? Would that be okay?"
"Okay? Okay? Are you freakin' kidding me? Can you imagine all the people you can sign? It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel. Plus, I'll have good reason to fly out on the weekends and check in," James chuckled at the thought. "Just get Fenton Morris signed and I'll add a move stipend on to your bonus."
"There's the door. Gotta go," I said. I hung up the phone, but Fenton beat me to the front door of the suite.
He signed for the papers and ripped open the manila envelope. "You don't waste any time, do you?" he asked.
"I sent my boss the message before we talked on the balcony," I said.
"Your boss. He's still going to give you a bonus for signing me, right?" Fenton asked. He grabbed a pen from the desk by the door.
"Actually, he just sweetened the deal," I said.
Fenton cut me off. "Well, here's to your picket fence and your private office and all the perfect stability that comes with it."
"You say that like it’s a bad thing," I snapped. "Like it’s so unreasonable to want a little stability. I guess that's not in your lone wolf agenda, huh?"
"Come on, Kya, you're seriously telling me you haven't enjoyed being let off the leash here in Vegas?" He asked. He signed the contract hard. "This is all the stability I need for now. I'm not stupid enough to predict what the future holds and what I might want from it."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Sure, you can't even predict what you'll want in the next five minutes, though it certainly seems like it’s not going to be me."
Fenton flung the contract aside and grabbed my arms. His kiss was hard, demanding, and left me breathless.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Kya
When I softened, Fenton smiled against my lips. His hands slid around my waist and cradled me close against his hips. Instead of pushing him away, my hands caressed his chest, then up to the bare skin of his neck. I twirled my fingers into his thick black hair and let myself hope.
"I want you, Kya," Fenton said. "I can't seem to help it."
"So it would be easier if I had to go back to Chicago?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders under my hands. "I'm not going to lie. If you were in Chicago, it would be a lot easier for me to focus."
He shifted against me and even the slight friction caused a wave of heat between us. He smiled and kissed me again, deeper, hungrier.
I broke away before my thoughts were completely unraveled. "But I like it here in Las Vegas," I said. "Plus, it makes a lot of sense for my career."
"I don't distract you from your work?" he asked.
I tipped my head and looked into his bright blue eyes. "Unlike you, I can balance life and work."
My phone rang and a spark of mischief flashed in Fenton's eyes. "I bet that's work," he said. He pulled me tighter against him and his lips sought mine for another dizzying drink.
I almost forgot what the ringing sound meant as I tangled my hands in his hair and hung on. When I finally broke away, I swayed and he laughed.
"How's that balance?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes at him, but had to steady myself against the kitchen counter as I answered the still-ringing phone. "Hello?"
"Ms. Allen, I thought you had forgotten about me," Jackson McRay's voice was light and mocking. "Celebrating the big win of your blue collar brawler, I suppose."
"I'm surprised to hear from you, I thought the tournament started today," I said.
"I played my first round already this morning. Aren't you supposed to keep up with such things?"
"I do. I will. Now that I know you are interested in becoming a client," I said. I turned away from Fenton who stood with his arms crossed, clearly listening to my half of the conversation.
"Well, then, I can catch you up. I'm actually in the Tropicana. Why don't you invite me up for a cup of coffee? I'll jump on the elevator and see you in a few," Jackson said. He hung up the phone.
I felt a swirl of panic in my stomach as I turned back around. Fenton frowned at me, his arms crossed tighter than before. "Looks like it’s less about balance and more about juggling," I said. "Jackson McRay, the golfer, is on his way up to the suite for a cup of coffee. We have possible business to discuss."
He followed me into the master bedroom as I yanked a cardigan over my white t-shirt and tried to make myself look presentable. I was relieved to see the red blush across my cheeks was fading. Then, Fenton caught me in his arms again.