“Hey,” I say, not sure what the correct response is. “I saw you were busy, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
He nods, but I can tell by the way he narrows his eyes that he doesn’t believe me.
I’ve always been a horrible liar.
“I’d like to take you to dinner.”
It’s not a question, but I know if I say no, he won’t push me. I am, however, hungry, and a girl has to eat.
“I just have to drop this stuff off at my hotel,” I reply. “Walk with me?”
His shoulders relax as he steps to me and takes my computer bag from me. “How are you, Lex?”
God, I’ve missed his voice, and that slight Irish accent.
“I’m doing really well. How are you?”
“I’m good,” he says with a nod. “I just got back from Ireland a few days ago.”
“You went to Ireland?”
I can’t believe that his parents never mentioned it in any of our calls.
“For about a month,” he confirms. My hotel is just down the block from Williams Films, so it doesn’t take long to get there. When we’re at my door, I unlock it and let him in. “This is a nice room.”
“Luke insisted on the suite, even though it’s just me here.” I gesture for him to set my bag on a chair. “But, yes, it’s nice. I’m just going to change out of this suit, if that’s okay. These shoes are killing me.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” he says.
I nod and walk into the closet where I’ve hung my clothes, retrieve a maroon lace top and black slacks, and quickly change. I slip my feet into black flats and join Shawn.
“There. That’s better.”
“Christ Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing his hand over his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I glance in the mirror, worried that maybe the lace of my top is see-through, despite there being a liner under it. But it looks fine to me.
“First of all, I’m tired of the formality.” He crosses to me and pulls me in for a big hug. “I haven’t seen you in three months, and I missed this.”
“You did?” I ask against his chest.
“Yeah. I did. You look so great, angel.”
I smile at the second compliment of the day. “Thanks. Things are going well. I’ll tell you about it over dinner.”
“I can’t wait.”
“So, you’re taking dance classes, you’ve learned to speak French, and you’re going to run a marathon in December?”
“At Disney World,” I confirm. “I’ve been busy. I came out of my shell in Washington, and it felt too good to go back in when I got home. So, I made a list of things to do to keep myself busy and social. It’s been a lot of fun. I’m also writing more and enjoying the story. It’s almost finished. Have you been writing?”
“I wrote a screenplay while I was in Ireland,” he says. “And I’ve been helping out at the pub, spending time with family, that sort of thing.”
“I think that’s wonderful,” I say, total sincerity in my voice. “I’ve been spending more time with my mom, as well. We have a standing lunch date every couple of weeks, and sometimes we go shopping, too. It’s fun.”
“I’m glad,” he replies. We’ve made our way through dinner, and Shawn already paid the check. He hasn’t touched me since that hug in the hotel room. The conversation has been fluid and interesting.
But something is holding us back from truly reconnecting.
It’s the elephant in the room.
Am I going to invite him back to my hotel with me? Am I going to spend the night with him?
“I’ll walk you back,” he offers as we slide out of our seats and head out of the restaurant. It’s winter, which means it’s chilly since the sun has gone down. I shiver, and Shawn takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.
“Thanks.”
He reaches down and takes my hand, linking our fingers, and I feel the connection all the way to my toes.
He takes a deep breath, and I know how he feels because I feel the same thing.
Lust. Pure, unadulterated desire ricochets between us like crazy.
But it’s more than that. And if I choose to invite him in, I could be opening up a can of worms that I’ll spend months trying to close again.
When we reach my door, I unlock it and turn to him. He braces a hand on the doorframe and gently smiles down at me. His knuckles drift down my cheek, and that’s all it takes. There’s no way I can send him away now.
I want him too damn much.
“Do you want to come inside?” I ask. I hear the breathiness of my voice.
“Aye, I want to come in.”
I walk in ahead of him and drape his jacket over a chair. I hear the door snick closed behind me.
And when I turn, he’s there. This sexy-as-all-get-out, wonderful man whom I know so well. It’s been too long since I was with him, and this feels like a dream.
“How did you get better-looking?” I ask as my eyes sweep over his body from his messy, dark hair to his black shoes. “I think it should be illegal to get more attractive.”
He smirks. “Get over here.”
I cock a brow. “That’s right. You’re bossy.”
His lips twitch, and I cross to him. Why am I so damn nervous? I’ve been with this man dozens of times. The score then was the same as it is now.
No attachments.
Coworkers with benefits.
“Still not marrying you,” he murmurs, making me laugh and breaking the ice.
“No, certainly not.”
He reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, and that’s all it takes. He descends on my mouth, kisses me with the fire of a thousand suns. The intense Shawn that I know is back, and all of his focus is on me.
It’s fucking amazing.
He lifts me easily and carries me to the bed.
“Shit, I’ll be right back.” He hurries over to his jacket and retrieves something out of the pocket, then returns to me and tosses several condoms onto the bedside table.
“Was I a sure thing, then?”
“Absolutely not,” he says with a laugh. “In fact, I was pretty sure that you’d be sending me on my way after dinner, but a man can hope, angel.”
The next kiss is long and slow. Thorough. Wet and all-consuming. He’s lazy about it, as if we have all the time in the world, and his only job is to memorize the shape of my mouth.
My hand drags down his back and grabs his ass. Shawn has a stellar ass.
He lazily kisses my neck. This is no frenzied quickie, and I’m glad because I want to memorize every moment, sigh, and sound.
I want this engrained on my brain for many years to come.
“I dreamed of you,” he says, his accent thicker with his arousal. He’s slow about getting me naked and has to pay close attention to each bit of skin he uncovers before moving on to the next. By the time I’m bare, I’m a writhing, panting mess of hormones.
And he’s still fully dressed.
“Take all of this off,” I demand as I pull at his shirt, but Shawn shakes his head no. “This works much better if we’re both naked, remember?”
“I remember everything,” he whispers. “I want to explore you first. I want to make you crazy.”