Wrong Man, Right Kiss (Gage Brothers 2)

Disappointment swept through her as she sat up. Then she spotted the note over his pillow, and she instantly relaxed.

Good morning, Picasso. Meet me upstairs? Business is ready to open Monday and I’m giving it a thorough check. Hope you don’t mind I left another message for you somewhere.

Yours,

Julian

The other message, it turned out, was right on her left buttock. Molly gasped when she caught sight of it as she passed by the mirror. It consisted of three red letters, perfectly curved, perfectly marking her fanny like a cattle brand, except he’d used her paint: JJG.

She laughed so hard that tears popped into her eyes. She’d never imagined she could wake up feeling so content, so full, so complete, so happy. How could she have spent all these years next to this man she would give her life for, and miss out on all of this?

It was as though last night Jules had opened the little box where she’d hidden away entire decades of special, secret feelings for him, and now that those feelings were out, Molly feared she’d burst from the love in her chest.

Scrambling to catch up with him, she showered and found herself drifting off to last night as she shampooed. They’d lain awake remembering stuff about their childhood, then they’d laughed, then their laughter had faded into heat once more, and they’d kissed and made out and made love until they’d exploded.

Hot and bothered by the memory alone, she jumped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel and rushed to the walk-in closet to survey her clothes. She settled on a short white jean skirt and a lacy white blouse. Then she fixed coffee and folded two warm croissants she’d heated in the oven into a pair of napkins. She carried the croissants and the two coffee mugs up in the elevator, watching them steam with a smile.

She could too easily picture doing this every day, too easily imagine having her husband’s offices in the same building as her apartment. He could come and go as he pleased—take a few moments in his busy day to steal away between meetings and come home and kiss her. Kiss her heart out like at that masquerade, like last night, like, hopefully, later this morning. Her cheeks flamed at the prospect.

The elevator chimed and she stepped out, impressed by the sight that greeted her.

Wow.

The place had undergone a huge transformation. She hadn’t noticed all this last night when she’d been painting like a fiend. But now full sunlight streamed through the windows, and every inch of the marble floor sparkled clean. Chrome chandeliers hung from the rafters, brand-new computers sat proudly atop their shiny new desks. A main reception desk stood before her, and behind it, the wall of her partly finished mural said a cheery good morning.

Just looking at that explosion of colors made her anxious to work on it some more. But the truth was, she was feverish to see Julian. Her breasts pricked at the thought of kissing his silken lips and wrapping herself around his big, hard body again….

She heard voices then. Angry voices.

Frowning, she went around the wall through a set of glass doors. And that was when she spotted Julian. Beautiful in khaki slacks and a white polo short, his casual weekend clothes. But there was nothing casual in his wide stance, in his massively tense shoulders, the arms that strained at his sides.

And then she saw the second man, his stance as menacing as Julian’s.

Garrett.

Molly’s heart stopped.

Her eyes wildly searched Julian’s profile for clues. He looked more than furious. His nostrils were flaring, and though the movements were almost imperceptible, he kept flexing his fingers as though they were cramping. Or as though he was just aching to throttle someone.

O-oookay. This might just not be the morning she had envisioned while she was taking a shower. What were they arguing about anyway? And why was Garrett here if he didn’t know about Julian’s new—

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

All of a sudden it hit her. And she feared that she knew exactly what the two men were arguing about.

Her own words came back to haunt her like a curse.

“Who the hell can even work in peace with this sort of constant criticism? I’m glad he’s ready to move on!”

Oh, no, please no.

Garrett had sounded less than thrilled when he’d demanded to know if Julian was leaving. She swayed nervously on her feet and a wash of hot coffee spilled across her left wrist. Pain shot up her arm, and when she gasped, both men turned.

She locked gazes with Garrett first, somehow avoiding Julian’s gaze out of dread. She didn’t want to know if he was angry. Not after the incredible, mesmerizing night they had spent together. But really, how angry could he be? He was naturally an easygoing man and would probably take it well and laugh about it later. It wasn’t as if she had revealed super top secret information, had she? Had she?

She breathed out slowly and smiled at the window behind their shoulders. “I didn’t know we had company, Jules.”