“I’ll be right back,” she says. “I’m going to change into warmer clothes.”
“I need to grab my charger,” I lie, following her down the hallway where she pauses, still unfamiliar with the new space we haven’t yet toured.
I place my hand on her hip and guide her to the door at the end of the hall on the right. “The rooms here are smaller, and we only have two bedrooms.”
Her gaze slides to me. Though she’s been staying with me since Vegas, her things have still been unpacked in a third room until now. The lights turn on as we step into the room, where a large bed sits atop a rug matching the same pattern as those in the living room. There’s another wall of windows, shorter than most of the hotels we’ve stayed at, and on the other wall is a large glass-encased shower with a tub where Chloe’s attention is paused.
“There’s a bathtub in here?”
“Is that a question?” I tease, and that this wows her is incredibly endearing. “It’s called a wet room,” I continue, “and it’s in here because of the views.” I sweep my arm toward the windows.
“But anyone can see in!”
“Whatever kinky thought you’re considering, I’m game,” I tell her.
Her cheeks darken with a blush. “Cooper and Nessie are waiting for us.”
I shrug, taking a step closer to her as her gaze darts to the opened door. “Want to time how long it takes for me to get you off?”
She laughs, taking a step back as she shakes her head. “No.”
I take another step, and she takes two more backward.
I charge after her like we’re on the field, and she quietly squeals when I grab her. We twist and fall back on the bed, her chest pressed against mine as my back hits the mattress. She giggles, her eyes closed, not fighting to get up.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Alcatraz?”
Her smile starts to slip, so I run my hand over her back in an attempt to relax her and assure her I’m not feeling unhinged about the minor detail. “At first because it didn’t seem worth arguing about, but after Vegas, it seemed hurtful and silly to mention it because if we’d have left a day earlier, it might mean that everything would have changed. You might have worked more and not have gone to the club with us, or maybe we wouldn’t have gone out at all, or maybe you would have canceled the poker game…” She shakes her head. “If I had to choose between going to Alcatraz and you, I’d choose you.” Her green eyes balance my racing thoughts, a shy smile curving her lips that I erase with a kiss, burying my fingers into her hair. She opens her mouth for me instantly, her tongue greeting mine. Above me, she settles, the heat of her body and the demand in her kiss make me want to forget about leaving the room, drunk on my need to feel and taste her.
“Guys! Let’s Go!” Vanessa yells from the hallway.
Chloe laughs against my lips.
I tip my head back and take a deep breath through my nose, my erection pressed to her core.
“Don’t make me come in there!” Vanessa calls out in warning.
“I’m just getting changed,” Chloe calls back.
“You have one minute.”
Chloe smiles, dropping a kiss to my mouth. “Her threats aren’t empty. Let’s go check out the boardwalk, and then we can resume.”
I run a hand down her back, stopping at her ass, where I gently squeeze. “They have doughnuts on the pier and a sourdough restaurant around the corner.”
Her eyes flash with a smile. “You had me at doughnuts.”
I scoff, watching her retreat to the closet where she slows and looks at me over her shoulder before pulling off her shirt and dropping her shorts so they pool at her feet.
She stands in the doorway in a black thong and a matching bra.
I’m off the bed in a second, thoughts of doughnuts and the pier forgotten.
“Guys!” Vanessa stands in the doorway. “What’s taking so long?”
“You have the patience of a toddler,” Chloe calls from the closet.
“You never have any chill when we get to a new city.” She turns her attention to me. “You’ve ruined her.”
Chloe laughs, stepping out of the closet in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, a hoodie over her arm. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
I adjust myself and try to recall what the focus for tomorrow’s first meeting is to distract myself from Chloe’s too-brief strip show.
We follow the sidewalk that leads into Fisherman’s Wharf, where shops crowd both sides of the busy sidewalk. We stop in front of the cafe that I’d mentioned to Chloe, with extravagantly shaped sourdough creations in their windows, before we duck inside and get seated for dinner.
I set my hand on Chloe’s thigh, missing the feel of her bare skin. “Did you see Ghirardelli Square is here? They have a whole menu of ice cream.”
She grins. “It’s on my list for tomorrow.”
“We’ll have to come back. There’s so much to see in San Francisco. We just purchased the neighboring property and are currently in the process of obtaining all the necessary permits and quotes to join the two buildings together. We can find all sorts of excuses to come down and check on it. We could do it over Thanksgiving since you guys don’t go home for the holiday.”
Chloe raises a shoulder. “That sounds amazing, but I kind of like our current tradition.” She sets her hand on mine, evoking a string of memories from the past two years of celebrating the holiday in their apartment with pizzas, under-baked or overbaked pies, board games, and films, reminding me that with Chloe, it’s always time that holds the highest significance.
“A long weekend then.”
She grins. “I can get on board with that.” She takes a drink of her water, blinking as a pronounced frown mars her face. “The water here tastes like it does in Florida.”
“Point for Washington,” Cooper says.
My phone vibrates and then vibrates again and again in quick succession. I reach for it, noting the multiple messages are all from Vivian. I scroll through the first and second, working to read through the data and facts she’s compiled because, like always, Vivian relies solely on facts and refuses to talk in layman’s terms. The final message is a screenshot of the penal code for felony embezzlement, which for Las Vegas can be charged if there’s theft of property or services exceeding five thousand dollars.
I scroll back through the other two emails, realizing they’re spreadsheets showing the mess of discrepancies she’s caught totaling over ten million dollars.
I breathe out slowly, knowing that I need to be fully certain of this information before I take it to my dad because if I’m wrong, this will only accomplish the opposite of what I sought out to do.
“Is everything okay?” Chloe asks.
I nod, setting my phone down as I struggle to wrap my thoughts around the situation. “Yeah, it’s just the accountant I’ve been working with in regard to Avery. She thinks Avery’s embezzled close to ten million.”
Cooper whistles.
“What are you going to do?” Chloe asks, setting her hand on my thigh like she needs a constant connection between us as well.
I slide my hand beneath hers and watch her fingers seamlessly align with mine as they fall together and shake my head. “Contact one of our lawyers. We can’t fire him in the same manner that we would another employee. We’ll need to be a hundred percent sure of everything to draw charges.” I run a hand along my jaw, considering what will happen in his future and how the decision largely rests on my shoulders. The realization makes my stomach turn for a moment, my determination to prove myself to my dad now seemingly tied with a man’s future.