Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall
like slapping labels on things like relationships, but the question begged to be asked. “Is that how you see us? As a couple?”
His eyes locked on hers, ramping up her nervousness. His hand went to her hair, looping it behind her ear. “Do you subscribe to the idea that things happen for a reason?”
“A little bit, but it’s also my job to give fate a nudge. I’d be a hypocrite if I said I believe fate is entirely in control.”
“It just seems to me that the fire was exactly what you and I needed.”
She thought of everything her mother had said about good coming from bad. If the most recent fire hadn’t happened, she’d be across the hall, alone, living in the proverbial ticking time bomb. It was the best possible thing to happen to her, to them. “It gave us a chance to be together.”
“Under circumstances that made us both comfortable. If we were to make a go of things, we would need time together. Alone. Like a normal couple. The fire has given us that chance.”
Normal couple. Could they be that? He seemed to be hinting at that, but she still suspected Marcus would risk his own heart far before he’d risk Lila’s. She couldn’t blame him in the least. “I’d like to make a go of things.” Because I’m falling in love with you. She couldn’t bring herself to utter those words, even though they were precisely what sprang to mind. She couldn’t say it when things were so new. Not when she was certain he wasn’t anywhere close to returning the sentiment. The words tumbled around in her head, her heart beating so oddly she trembled. Perhaps it was because her heart knew exactly how much there was on the line with Marcus. She had, after all, vowed to protect her heart after James, and here she was, so eager to leave her heart without a safety net.
And even if their alone time went well, she still had her biggest obstacle to face. Was she ready to take on motherhood? Could she manage the one part of this that was absolutely nonnegotiable? Could the scattered woman with the insane job and crazy life be what Marcus needed? If she took it on, she couldn’t walk away. He’d suffered the pain of that once. She’d have to be one hundred percent sure she was the right woman, and how would she know that unless Marcus let her in completely? Until he let her spend time with Lila?
“Good. I’d like to make a go of things, too.” He smiled so wide it made her heart sing. Now was not the moment for dwelling on everything that could go wrong.
“It takes two sides to build a bridge.”
He wrapped her up in his arms and planted the softest, steamiest kiss on her. “I hope you don’t care if our tea gets cold. I’d like to spend some time working on our bridge before I have to go to work.”
The time had come for Ashley to shut Maryann the hell up.
That meant the time had also come for her to get ready to go on her real date with Marcus, to the media night for the new distillery.
They hadn’t seen much outside the four walls of his bedroom since he’d come from work Friday night, although they had run out hours ago to buy her a dress. Getting lost in each other was too sublime a temptation to otherwise worry about the outside world or even basic necessities like eating, although Marcus had encouraged the consumption of coconut cake when possible.
Things between them were wonderful and effortless for the moment, albeit very up in the air. Lila would be returning Monday morning, and the plan all along had been for Ashley to move back into her apartment that day. Her new builder would be coming in then to get her project back on track. As for what the future held, Ashley wasn’t about to venture a single guess.
Ashley stepped into the shower in Marcus’s bathroom.
“Can I watch?” He peeked around the corner while stepping into his suit pants.
“Not if you want to be on time to the biggest night ever for your business.” She stuck her head beneath the spray and lathered her hair with shampoo.
“Now who’s the grump?”
“I’m just being real with you, Marcus,” she called before he disappeared.
She put on her makeup and headed into Marcus’s closet. The dress she and Marcus had shopped for that afternoon was hanging there. She unzipped the silver garment bag, removing the black satin gown. She still wasn’t sure she had the nerve to wear it. Marcus had come just shy of drooling when she’d stepped out of the fitting room.
“We’ll take it,” he’d said to the saleswoman while handing over his credit card.
Ashley had called him over with a curl of her finger. “You didn’t even ask me if I liked it.”
“I love it. And I’m paying.”
“I have my own money and plenty of it.”
He’d glanced over at the counter where the saleswoman was ringing up the sale. “Too late. She already ran my card.”
She’d kissed him then—a slow brush of lips as silky as the dress. She’d slinked back into the dressing room, changed and handed the dress over to be wrapped up. Marcus had won that round. She was fine with that.
And now she was slipping into the dress for the second time. Goose bumps dotted her arms and chest as the silky fabric skimmed over her skin. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and the mere thought of Marcus seeing her made her blush. This dress left little to the imagination, even though it was impeccably tasteful. The bias-cut satin moved with her every curve—her hips, her butt, her breasts. She wasn’t sure what she would do if Marcus hugged her while she was wearing this dress. She already felt as if she was naked. His hands on any part of her were absolutely going to send her over the top.
She slipped into a pair of heels and pulled her hair up into a twist. He’d said that he liked it when she’d worn her hair up at the Manhattan Matchmaker party. Had he really paid that much attention? Had he really noticed? It felt good to know that he had—even though that night had ended so badly.
She started down the hall quietly, anticipating the moment when they would lay eyes on each other. Marcus was standing in the kitchen, his back to her. His shoulders were the first thing she noticed—so strong and broad and tempting, especially since she’d committed every naked contour beneath that suit to memory. She inched closer, nervous anticipation making her breaths come out erratically.
He turned, and she was no longer nervous about him appraising her. She was too busy drinking in the vision of him—the long lines of that black suit, his strong jaw, those dark and slightly unruly brows of his. He was mesmerizing. If she was really, truly expected to be a gracious and composed guest this evening, she couldn’t be counted on for a solid performance. At some point, she’d surely be caught staring and biting her bottom lip.
He unleashed the most clever smile she’d ever seen, as if he was the sly fox and he’d laid eyes on a sweet, fluffy bunny waiting just for him. She’d be his bunny if he wanted her to be. She’d relinquish all control to him, in the bedroom at least. The rest of their dynamic was not up for grabs, but he had to know that by now.
“You are absolutely stunning,” he said in his disarming voice.
Ashley dropped her clutch. Lipstick rolled across the floor. She bent over to pick it up, but Marcus reached for it at the same time. Both of them crouching over her purse, their eyes locked. Well, they locked for an instant. Then his eyes very unsubtly dropped to her cleavage and she just let him look, didn’t shy away. She was too busy wishing they didn’t have to go anywhere tonight. Look. Look all you want. Then kiss me, dammit. Kiss me and take off my dress and treat it in a way that makes me feel bad that you spent so much money on it.
She couldn’t say the words on her lips—the poor man had work to do. Later.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I have to say that you in that suit isn’t really fair.