MEG PERCHED ON a stool at her stainless steel island. She was supposed to be working on the menu for Gavin Aronson’s mayoral ceremony, and instead she was using her four-color click pen to doodle hearts in her notebook.
Frustrated, she slammed the cover shut and let loose an exaggerated sigh. The movement jostled her notebook, and the worn computer printout that she’d folded up and tucked inside peeked out.
She’d looked at it a thousand times, but she pulled it out to look again.
44 Faraday Court. Deal of a lifetime! This spacious two-level foreclosure has two bedrooms, one-and-a-half baths and a bonus room. Tons of custom cabinetry, stainless steel appliances and a newly renovated gourmet kitchen are just some of the updates made to this home in the last two years. Top it off with a large backyard with mature trees, this bargain might just be what you’re looking for.
Before this last year, she’d never allowed herself to dream of owning a home, because she and Mamesie and her sisters had all needed to contribute to one pot just to survive. But now Jo had moved out, and Beth and Ford wouldn’t stay there once they were married...
And she wanted something all her own, which was why she was willing to put up with Gavin Aronson’s crap if it meant she got an in with his company. She needed to stop mooning around about John and focus.
Even as she told herself that, her gaze wandered to the clock, and she noted that it was nearing noon.
She hadn’t heard from John yet today, and she wondered if he’d forgotten about his offer to take her for lunch. If he’d meant lunch at all. They hadn’t spent any time together that didn’t involve a lot of skin-to-skin contact, so maybe lunch had been, as she’d initially assumed, a euphemism.
But...was this still just sex?
She’d initially proposed this affair not just because she and John burst into flames every time they were around one another, but also because she’d appreciated the fact that their liaison had an end date. She hadn’t been the owner of A Moveable Feast for very long, and she’d been looking forward to a new era of her life, where she was able to focus on her business—something just for her.
But...was she being ridiculous? Because being around John didn’t seem to take away from her life at all. Instead it added something she hadn’t been aware she was missing.
And what was the point of thinking like this at all, when he was leaving in... Was it only two more days? The realization made something heavy settle in her core. He was leaving, and she had to face that fact.
And yet...the way he’d looked at her last night. The way he’d challenged her need to keep her family in the dark about whatever the hell this was between them.
Was he having second thoughts about ending things, too?
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she checked for new messages for the forty-first time in the last hour—still nothing.
She was going insane.
“Ugh!” Growling with frustration, she pushed back from her work. Her stomach growled, too, echoing the sound. Eager for the distraction, she slid off the stool and padded over to the industrial-size fridge.
She’d had deliveries from several suppliers that morning, and it was full—cuts of meat wrapped in butcher’s paper, sticks of grass-fed butter, hunks of swiss and cheddar from the cheesemonger, and a bright rainbow of vegetables and herbs.
Nothing appealed, even though she was hungry. Heaving a sigh that even she knew was overly dramatic, she closed the fridge again.
The front door of the building opened. Meg felt her pulse kick into overtime, as though she’d downed a triple shot of espresso, and the jolt of adrenaline left her shaky when she recognized the footsteps as belonging to Jada and her high heels, rather than the heavier footfalls she’d been waiting for.
“Morning deliveries are done.” Jada breezed into the kitchen, bright and summery in a little romper number that Meg knew would make her look like a garden gnome. How the girl managed to look so flawless while lugging around heavy totes of food—in heels, nonetheless—Meg had no idea.
Normally Jada’s Instagram-ready appearance had no effect whatsoever on Meg—she’d hired her because she did her deliveries promptly and because she was eager to learn about food, as Meg had learned from the owner before her. But today, the image of Jada batting those eyelash extensions at John fresh in her mind, Meg found herself feeling more than a little bitchy.
“You need to wear closed-toed shoes when you work.” She gestured to Jada’s strappy sandals. “What if you dropped one of those totes on your bare toes? Or a knife? You could wind up in the hospital.”
Jada blinked, clearly taken aback by Meg’s tone. “I—I’m sorry. I’ll wear different shoes tomorrow.”
Meg winced inwardly. “That came out harsh. I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge today.”
“Sexual frustration?” When Meg looked sharply at her employee, Jada shrugged, tracing a finger over a dent in the island. “John didn’t call. That doesn’t happen very often, so I thought about it. And then I realized I’d been blinded by that face of his...which was only looking at you.”
“It is one hell of a face.” Meg groaned, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Dammit.”
She admitted nothing, but when she heard the front door open and close again, and she perked up like a puppy whose people had just arrived, she knew she’d blown her cover.
“Ladies.” John stopped in the entryway to the kitchen, propping a hip against the door frame. Beside her, Meg heard Jada let out a wistful sigh.
“Jada, it’s time to take your lunch break.” She barely registered the younger woman’s quiet laugh.
“On it.” Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Jada dug through the pouch, palming something that she tossed onto the island.
Meg looked at the small foil square. It was a condom. Jada had just given her a condom. She looked at the girl with exasperation, cheeks flaming. Jada just winked.
“No glove, no love.” Laughing at herself, she scurried past John, clicking her way down the hall. “Ha, I sound like my mom.”
Meg waited, eyes closed, for the sound of the door opening and closing again. When it came, she cracked open one eye.
“Hi.” John pushed off the door frame. He crossed the room in three large steps, like he couldn’t get to her fast enough.
“Hi, yourself.” She couldn’t hold back the breathy little sigh when he dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
She’d just parted her lips, opening for him the way she knew he would demand, when he pulled back. She blinked up at him, startled.
“So it seems your young employee has deduced our real relationship?” His lips curved with amusement, and her pulse tripped at hearing the word relationship on his tongue.
“I admitted nothing.” She smiled at him wryly. “She figured it out when she was working through your puzzling obliviousness to her rather direct charms.”
“Right.” Was that a hint of a blush she saw on those smooth brown cheekbones? “She’s... Ah. She’s a handful.”
“But she has a very talented tongue.” She grinned up at him. Dammit, why did she have to like him? Couldn’t she just want him for his body?
“‘You didn’t call,’” she said, mimicking Jada, her heart beating wildly in her chest. There was no denying the jealousy that had reared its ugly green head yesterday when Jada had given him her number and asked if he’d call. While she didn’t think he would, they had an agreement they were both standing up to, that didn’t mean he couldn’t call her when they were over. She had, after all, given Aaron her number.
In a fast move that shocked the breath from her lungs, John spun her around, bending her over the counter. He flipped her skirt up and pulled her cotton bikini briefs down.
“What the hell are you doing?” She had a pretty good idea, and an answering surge of wetness pooled between her thighs at the thought.
“You know we have an agreement.” He smoothed a palm over her cheeks, and she shivered.
“Yes.” Oh God. How had she so quickly come to crave this?
“You know that there’s no one else.” She tilted her head, waiting for him to add while we’re together.
He did not, but she couldn’t dwell on it, because he was tracing the divide of her cheeks with his hand.
“Tell me you weren’t jealous of Jada draping herself all over me, and I’ll believe you.” His voice was rough. “I won’t punish you.”
She stilled. No way was she admitting that.
“Either that’s not much of an incentive,” he started, quickly sliding between her cheeks and pressing his thumb to the rosette of her rear entrance, “or you can’t tell me that. Either way, I think ten ought to do it.”
“Ten?” She tried not to press back against him, but dammit, she was dripping at the thought. “Well, you’re the boss.”
“That mouth.” And then he started. As with the first time, the initial sting quickly morphed into liquid heat, more intense this time because she knew the pleasure that was soon to follow. She counted in her head as he delivered the light blows, both relieved and crushed when she reached ten.
Breath caught in her throat, she waited for his hands to move to the expected places. For him to ease the ache.
He did not. She heard the hiss of his breath as he slid both hands down her back to cup her cheeks. “These are mine.”
She swallowed. Hard.
“Say it, Meg.”
“They’re yours.”
Finally, finally, he slid a hand between her legs, dipping into her core, but only for a moment. He palmed her pussy and squeezed gently.
“This is mine. Say it.”
“It’s yours.” Her mouth was dry. She pushed back against him, desperate for more, but instead of sliding inside her again, she felt his fingers hooking in the waist of her panties. Her breath escaped on a shocked gasp as he tugged them back up and settled them in place.
Was that...it? While she struggled to grasp the idea of John turning away sex, he smoothed her skirt back over her hips, then turned her to face him. His hand slid under her long waves of hair to cup the back of her neck. The softness on his face, the unexpected tenderness excited and frightened her all at once.
“You know when lunch is a euphemism for a booty call that some booty is actually expected, right?” Trying to lighten the mood, she smirked up at him.
“Today, lunch isn’t a euphemism for anything.” Closing his eyes, he lifted the hand that had sampled the wetness between her legs up to his nose and inhaled. “And this isn’t on the menu, to my everlasting regret.”
“I...” she started, thoroughly confused. “What?”
He shook his head like a dog coming in from the rain. Not taking her on the steel island seemed to be hurting him just as much as it was her... So why were they abstaining, exactly?
She opened her mouth to ask but stopped when he smiled fiercely, looking not unlike he was in pain.
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m actually feeling a little faint,” she said, although she wasn’t entirely certain it was from lack of food.
“Let’s get you fed.”