He brought his hands up and framed her face in his warm palms, shocking her with the gentleness of his touch. “After everything you’ve gone through, you deserve a happily ever after, Tempest.”
He lowered his head and put his lips on hers, the kiss so achingly soft and sweet compared to every other one he’d given her before this moment it was almost shocking to her system. The tenderness and affection caused her heart to flutter in her chest and her knees to go weak. She’d experienced heat and lust in his previous kisses, but this one made her feel . . . cherished and completely infatuated.
Being privy to this man’s gentler side was exhilarating and scary as hell. Her emotions suddenly seemed to be all over the place when Tempest had always been so good about compartmentalizing them. She wasn’t sure what to make of Remy’s subtle but exquisite kiss but ordered herself not to get used to it.
When he finally lifted his head, she did her best to make light of the situation, starting with a flirtatious smile. “Be careful, Remy, or I might think you like me.”
“I do like you, princess,” he said, his voice low and husky as he stared into her eyes, his brows furrowed. “More than I really care to admit. But this thing between us . . .” He exhaled a deep, troubling breath. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she said, but as she got into her car and looked out the window at Remy and saw this man’s innate strength and goodness, she was forced to acknowledge that if she wasn’t careful, getting her heart broken was a distinct possibility.
“Here’s to Wilder Things,” Elle Darian said, lifting her glass of iced tea and clinking it against Tempest’s and Arabella’s raised drinks. “Congratulations on finally getting the building you’ve been looking for.”
“Thank you.” Tempest grinned at the two women sitting with her at an outdoor café, where they were enjoying a celebratory lunch after she’d signed the escrow papers. “I’m so happy to share this with the both of you.”
And she meant it. In a very short time, Arabella and Elle had become not only good friends but as close to having sisters as Tempest would ever get. And with both of them engaged to her brothers, they were also all soon to become family.
Arabella set her iced tea down and started in on the pasta dish she’d ordered. “So, tell us all about your plans for the place now that you’ve got the keys.”
As they ate lunch, Tempest shared her ideas for Wilder Things, both the bar and hotel rooms, which turned into a brainstorming session as the other two women offered up various ideas and suggestions that Tempest appreciated. She definitely had a vision for what she wanted this place to be, but she welcomed the creative feedback.
“I’m meeting with Remy Lowell, the contractor, later this evening to walk him through the building,” she said, keeping the more intimate side of their relationship to herself. “Fingers crossed the construction and renovation will start soon.”
She and Remy hadn’t set an exact time to meet yet because of his busy schedule and the projects he was currently juggling and trying to finish up, but he’d promised he’d get back to her sometime this afternoon when he knew for certain he’d be able to leave the jobsite he was currently working on.
She was excited to see him and giddy with anticipation. While they’d agreed to an affair, they’d had no physical contact since last week, when he’d taken her to dinner at O’Brien’s. Just a whole lot of texts and phone calls since they’d both had work-related responsibilities taking up their days and early evenings.
For Remy, he was wrapping up loose ends on the projects he still had under contract so he could devote his time and attention to Wilder Things. He’d encountered delays and a few issues that had put him a couple of days behind schedule, and by the time he’d gotten home at night, she could hear the exhaustion in his voice when they talked.
Tempest completely understood work interference and those unexpected things that happened that were beyond a person’s control. The past week for her had been equally insane. It was the time of the month when her Wilder Passion subscription boxes started getting packed up to be mailed, and she’d had to deal with a huge dispute with the apparel manufacturer she’d contracted to make the lingerie. They’d substituted a cheap brand of lace for the “sweet” bra and panty collection because they’d underestimated what they needed for the increase in orders, and Tempest had halted production as soon as she’d discovered what they’d done.
She refused to compromise quality for quantity, and it had taken hours of phone conversations with the CEO of the company, along with her flying to the facility in Pennsylvania this past Monday, to make the higher-ups understand that if something like that ever happened again, she’d be taking her business elsewhere.
She was also juggling daily emails and discussions with
the New York based interior design and branding agency she’d hired for Wilder Things, who had direct connections for all the décor, signage, furnishings, and fixtures she wanted and needed. They were in the planning and idea stage of the process, but she was learning that all those decisions were time-consuming.
Her cell phone buzzed on the table beside her plate, indicating an incoming text, and Tempest never knew if she was going to meet with excitement or dread, depending on what name greeted her—Remy or Kyle, who was currently trying to talk her into going with him to the Wine & Food Festival in New York City the following weekend, as friends, he’d claimed. She’d lied and told him she already had plans, but he was valiantly trying to persuade her to change them despite her repeated attempts to convince him she wasn’t interested.
As soon as she saw Remy’s name on the text, elation won over. She read his note. Sorry I didn’t text sooner. Today has been crazy. I’ll meet you at the building at 5:30 this evening.
Sounds good, she replied, and after hesitating only a few seconds, she followed that up with, Can’t wait to see you. And she meant it. She was dying to see him, touch him, kiss him, and yeah, get him naked if the opportunity presented itself.
They might have spent over a week apart, but they’d had many conversations at night that had started out casual and flirty and ended up taking a steamy, provocative turn. She’d learned that Remy was really, really good at dirty talk and even better at filthier phone sex. Remembering all the sinful ways he’d told her to touch her body while imagining it was him had her squirming in her seat and her cheeks flushing warm.
“Whoa,” Elle said, the intrigued tone of her voice cutting into Tempest’s intimate thoughts. “Who is putting that naughty smile on your face?”
That got Arabella’s attention, as well, who looked up from her pasta to inspect Tempest’s features, too, before her eyes widened in glee. “Oh, my God. Elle’s right. You’re totally blushing! Who is it?”
Tempest was so busted. She couldn’t say the text was just Remy with a time to meet, because that wouldn’t warrant her besotted reaction. And since whatever this thing between them wasn’t public knowledge, she wasn’t ready to spill the beans.
She casually put her phone back on the table, facedown, and shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no one.”
Elle laughed. “Liar,” she said lightheartedly. “You look absolutely smitten right now.”
“Come on, Tempest,” Arabella joined in. “You can tell us. Have you met someone?”
“Maybe,” she murmured, and took a long drink of her tea. That one vague word was all the information she’d offer, but both of the girls jumped right on her reply.