Even though I was with Rory.
Even though I was satisfied.
Even though I'd never be that man that left because of sex.
"Hey." She nods hello to me. Turns to Ian. "We've met. I'm not sure you remember—"
"Indigo Simms. Of course. Ty couldn't stop talking about you." Ian offers his hand. "It's nice to see you again."
"You too." She looks to me for an explanation.
I try to sell my nonchalance.
"I've heard a lot about you," she says.
"All terrible?" he asks.
"Of course. But your girlfriend—I think she's Ty's favorite thing about New York," she says.
"Before you?" he asks.
"I'm almost jealous when he talks about her hair." Indigo motions to her blunt, asymmetrical cut. "It's threatening."
He smiles. "She'll want to meet you."
"That means he wants to make out in front of you," I say.
"With your consent, of course." He winks at her.
She laughs. "I'm more of an exhibitionist, but thanks."
He shoots me a look.
I shoot him a don't.
"If only you met me a few years ago, I would have invited myself," he says. "Ty would deck me, of course. But I'd still offer."
Her laugh gets louder. "And I'd find out later you orchestrated the whole thing so he could defend my honor?"
"It's my duty as his older brother." Ian turns to me. "Friday? Eight o' clock?"
I nod. "If it works for you, Indie."
"Sure," she says. "If you don't mind watching me and Ty make out."
"Is that a dare?" he asks.
She nods.
He holds out his hand to shake. "You're on."
He nods goodbye. Leaves.
She looks back at him. Watches him pretend he's not watching us.
Then she turns to me. Closes the distance between us.
She places one hand on my chest. The other on my waist.
Her eyes close.
Her lips find mine.
She kisses me like I'm the only thing she needs.
For a moment, I believe it.
For a moment, she convinces me we're marrying because we're madly in love.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ty
Paloma interrupts with a knock and a take-out tea. "Yunnan Hong Cha." She smiles at Indie. "Ready to go?"
"I probably should." Indie looks at me. "Or I'll be too tempted to stay."
"Mr. Hunt has a busy day. We don't want to distract him." Paloma shoots me a keep it in your pants look.
Indie nods to my assistant. She turns to me. Pulls me into another slow, deep kiss. "Of course." She winks and follows Paloma out of the office.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with a new message.
A picture. The lingerie I asked her to wear. Sheer black knickers curving around her hip.
Peeking out of her black jeans.
The jeans she's wearing today.
Indigo: I don't want you too distracted.
Ty: You don't?
Indigo: If you had to spend the entire morning wondering if I followed your instructions… I'm sure that would take up a lot of space in your mind.
Ty: Are you baiting me, baby?
Indigo: No, sir. I'm just letting you know I followed orders.
My balls tighten.
She's too good at pushing my buttons.
Ty: All of them?
Indigo: Of course.
Ty: Show me.
Indigo: I'm in the car with your assistant.
Ty: And?
Indigo: Do you want me to flash her?
Ty: She's signed an NDA.
Indigo: Yes. She told me it's airtight.
Ty: And?
Indigo: I'm not even supposed to think about someone else watching.
Fuck.
Indigo: Unless that's what you want, sir.
Ty: The second you have privacy.
Indigo: Of course.
She sends another picture. One from her apartment. The mirror in front of her bed. The same black fabric stretched over her hips and arse.
Now she's daring me. To ask her to strip in front of my assistant.
Or some other New York elite.
If she thinks I'm backing down—
She knows better.
For half an hour, I work. My mind is split—half on Indie, half on finding information—but I can't exactly complain about the circumstance.
Finally, my phone buzzes with a text.
The strap of her bra. All the way to the start of the cup. Her crop top pulled aside.
She's against a clean white wall, but I can't place the other details.
Indigo: Is this to your satisfaction, sir?
Ty: You know what happens when you dare me.
Indigo: Are you going to keep asking me that?
Ty: Should I tell you to take off your knickers right now?
Indigo: It depends what you'll say after.
My mobile buzzes with a picture message. Another from this morning. Indigo, from her nose to her toes, sheer black lingerie barely covering her tits and arse.
In her bedroom.
Ready for the day—her lips painted Bordeaux, her hair in a neat line.
Then another picture.
Her and Paloma in a rooftop garden. Under a white lattice.
She's standing there, in black jeans and a matching top, in the position for the bride.
She's not turned to Paloma. She's looking at the camera.
And she's certainly not dressed in typical wedding attire—
But it still steals my breath.
Sends an entirely different set of mental images through my mind. Indigo in some gorgeous white dress, staring into my eyes like she's madly in love with me.
Taking my hand. Smiling as we dance under the stars.
Laughing as we feed each other cake.
Then the entire thing shifts. And it's Rory.
And I need out of this fucking office.
I ignore the buzz of my cell. Leave the office. Lock the door.
Take the elevator to the street.
Walk the half a dozen blocks to Battery Park.
It's warm today. Too warm for a three-piece suit.
Still, I move toward the water. Watch the sun bounce off the tiny waves.
Once I've caught my breath, I pull out my cell.
Indigo: Not how I imagined picking out my wedding venue.
Ty: What did you imagine?
Indigo: I haven't. Not really. I never wanted to get married.
Ty: Even when you were young?
Indigo: I am young.
Ty: When you were a girl.
Indigo: I went to a cousin's wedding in a hotel ballroom. It was very Jersey. You might know the type of place, with all your travel. It had that hotel ballroom look. Dated. Stuffy. With these over-the-top tablecloths and decorations trying to hide it as a place for business.
Ty: Are you close with your cousin?
Indigo: I see her at Christmas.
Ty: They're still married?
Indigo: With two kids.
Ty: Are they happy?
Indigo: I don't know. She wanted to be an actress. But when she got pregnant, she stopped trying. Maybe she gave up. Maybe she realized she wanted something else.
Ty: And you?
Indigo: And I?
Ty: You always wanted to be a musician.
Indigo: Yes.
Ty: Do you still play?