“Great. Just make a note on there that I’ll bring the wine.” I bent my knees to be at her height, then brought a hand to the back of her neck, and guided her mouth to mine for a deep kiss.
“I’ll see you later,” she murmured against my lips, the sweetest little dazed smile playing on her lips.
“See you then.” I laid one more kiss on her, then forced myself to leave before I bent her over that table just like I’d warned her I wanted to do before. Maybe later, after we’d talked, I’d get to be inside her.
Unfortunately, and I never thought I’d even think this, but there was something I needed more from her tonight than just pleasure. I just hoped she would be as willing to give it.
Chapter 27
Luna
“Have I told you how good you look when you’re dressed down?” My eyes drank Cyrus in like they hadn’t caught sight of him in years and had missed him every day.
When he’d come by the shop earlier, it was the first time I’d seen him in shorts and a T-shirt, and though he was wearing different ones now, he’d remained in casual wear. Maybe it was just because I’d become so used to what an absolute sexy god he cut in his suit that I didn’t notice it so much anymore, but like this?
Like this, he didn’t just look sexy. He looked approachable, like a hot young exec who knew how to laugh and have a good time. It was a welcome change from the intimidating, scowling businessman who looked like he hadn’t cracked a smile in over a month.
In the time I’d known him, I’d come to learn there was a lot more to him than that domineering, controlling asshole he’d looked like the first time I’d met him. Having seen him in jeans once or twice, in various states of undress, and my personal favorite, stark naked, it was still jarring to see him look so young and carefree.
With an olive-green T-shirt clinging to his muscles like I wanted to be, his eyes seemed to have turned to a mossy color rather than the usual emerald. They were still electric, just in an entirely different way.
Casual navy-blue shorts with little sailboats on them and a pair of honest-to-God flip-flops completed the look. Even his hair looked lighter than usual, giving him a surfer vibe that I liked.
While I was giving him a onceover, he did the same to me. Those full, kissable lips tugged up into a smirk when his gaze came back to mine.
“You don’t look half bad yourself. Did you forget to put pants on or did you mean to make me want to bend you over your kitchen counter before we even got around to eating?”
I flushed, realizing that I’d put on booty shorts that were actually part of a pajama set to cook in. With my preference for cooking by touch and taste rather than following a recipe, I’d long since discovered it was a much smarter bet for me to cook in pajamas and an apron with my hair pulled up in a messy bun.
That way, the clothes I wanted to wear stayed clean and I only needed a few minutes before a date started to change. But this isn’t even a date, so why does it matter?
Right. My subconscious was one hundred percent correct, so I met Cyrus’s smirk with one of my own and put a hand on my hip, jutting it out. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would actually.” Pupils dilating, he strode into my house and kicked the door shut behind him. He licked his lips a second before they descended onto mine and he groaned into my mouth. “You taste so fucking good. What are we having?”
“Spaghetti Bolognaise with Parmesan, micro-greens, and a salad. It’s nothing fancy, but my mom taught me how to make it, and since we were talking about our parents on Friday, I thought it would be nice.”
In an instant, his expression changed from ready to fuck to can I hold you. At my slight nod, he drew me into his arms and crushed me in the tightest, most comforting hug I could remember getting.
He might be a heck of a kisser and he definitely knew what he was doing in bed. But apparently, the man knew his way around a hug, too.
“Can I help with anything?” he asked against my ear before he released me.
I chewed on my lip before I made my decision. Cooking this dish was like a sacred experience for me, given from whom I’d learned to make it, and I usually refused help, but I wanted Cyrus to share in it tonight.
“Sure. I’ve got all the ingredients out, and the sauce is already simmering on the stove, but you can help me finish it off and decide when we should haul out the pasta.”
“Sounds good. I’m sure I can manage that.” Giving me a boyish smile I was sure I’d never seen from him before, he held up a finger and disappeared out the door for a second before he returned with a paper bag in his hand. “Told you I’d bring the wine.”
Fixing his hand to the small of my back, he walked with me to the kitchen and helped himself to two glasses. He filled them with some fancy-labeled white wine and pushed one over to me.
The wine was cold, condensing on the outside of the glass almost immediately. I took a sip, moaned at the tangy crispness on my tongue, and went back for more.
Cyrus watched me, lust flashing behind his eyes again before he blinked it away and cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Yeah?” I asked, dropping my head to one side. “What?”
Please don’t let him say this is over. Please don’t let him say this is over. I’m not ready yet.
“A few weeks ago, I invited you to come to Italy with me for a conference. The event I told you I had to attend is this weekend, which means I need an answer. I think you’d enjoy it. Not only is it being held in Venice, but it’s also an acclaimed annual event for entrepreneurs, and it’s a great opportunity to network.”
My heart skipped a beat. Freaking Italy.
“If it’s an event for entrepreneurs, why wasn’t I invited?” I asked jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. “I own my own floral shop. I should’ve made the cut.”
He set his glass down on the counter and braced himself against it, not even the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile.
“It’s only for the most successful entrepreneurs in the country. I need you to come with me and pretend to be my wife.” He said all of this completely deadpan.
It had to be a joke, but it sure didn’t look like one.
There was tension around his eyes and the muscles in his forearms were corded as he braced his hands against the counter. A tick in his jaw told me how clenched it had to be as he waited for my answer.
My own jaw slackened so much, it nearly hit the floor. “Are you kidding me? No.”
“Why not?” The strong column of his throat moved. “I asked you to come with me almost a month ago, Luna. It’s not like this could be coming as a surprise to you.”
“You never said anything about pretending to be your wife.” There was no way I’d be able to do that and not start believing it myself.
If I opened only a tiny part of myself up for believing it could happen for real, I really wasn’t ready for that. Plus, he was the one adamantly opposed to relationships and marriage, so why was he trying to make this into more than it was?
“Besides,” I added. “I can’t go. I thought you’d have assumed that by now.”