Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

Surprisingly, she obeyed me. I dug my way through all that fabric and hauled her calf and ankle up onto my lap. I also tucked the hundred bucks back into her skirt pocket. She didn’t seem to notice and just cleared her throat.

Leah bit her bottom lip. “This is weird,” she said. “I don’t think you want my damp sock on your pants.”

There were so many things I wanted to say. All of them inappropriate as fuck.

What I settled for was, “Don’t assume what I want.”

Chapter 2

Was Grant flirting with me? Finally?

Andre coughed in the front seat.

Which made me think the driver heard it too. That gruff, sexual undertone to Grant’s words.

For once, I was speechless. My parents wouldn’t believe it, since my dad always said I came out screaming and hadn’t stopped making noise since. But I was stunned into silence by the close proximity to Grant, his words, and by the pain radiating through my ankle.

We didn’t speak for one hundred and forty blocks. One hundred and forty blocks. You read that right. The entire time with my foot propped onto Grant’s muscular leg, his tie flapping out of my sock. With my legs spread from the position.

Thank God for the volume of the poodle skirt or this would be more awkward than it already was.

Maybe awkward wasn’t the right word. Maybe just… aware. I was just very aware of his body, his closeness, his masculinity.

I waited for him to say something, anything, but he was typing on his phone over the top of my leg. If he wasn’t going to talk to me, why hadn’t he just gone on his merry way (okay, stoic and smoldering way) and left the driver to take me home solo?

Grant was hard to figure out. He didn’t seem like a reluctant Good Samaritan but at the same time he was more matter-of-fact than enthusiastic about helping. He was… bossy. Take charge.

I imagined he would be the same in the bedroom.

The thought made me even more aware of his body brushing against mine, and my leg sprawled over his thighs. As the trip had gone on, he had gradually lowered his arms until they were actually resting on my thigh and calf as

he texted. He didn’t seem aware of the fact.

“Are you very busy?” I asked him finally. I was mildly amused but enough was enough.

“What?” He glanced over at me. “No, I mean, not any busier than usual.”

“You’re using my leg as a desk to text,” I pointed out.

His arms flew up off my legs. “Sorry. My assistant had some questions.” He tucked his phone into his jacket pocket and gave me a smile. “My apologies.”

I opened my mouth though I wasn’t entirely sure what the hell I was going to say to Mr. Very Busy and Super Hot.

We pulled up in front of my building.

Andre turned and looked back at me. “We’re here, miss.”

I was both relieved and disappointed. The silence was killing me but at the same time I wanted to scream, “That’s it? This is all that’s going to happen?”

Grant carefully set my foot back down on the floorboard and got out of the car. I lived in a quiet, residential area with brick building after brick building that had reasonable, for New York, rent. It would have taken me over an hour to get home on the train, with people jostling me as they were getting on and off the subway, the entire time. I considered myself pretty resilient but I was very grateful to skip that tedious trip. I could have gotten a cab or a Lyft but that wasn’t really in the budget this month. I’d overspent on makeup for the show off-off-off Broadway I was currently in as a backup mermaid. Green glitter eyeshadow is not cheap, even if you would expect it would be. Nothing in New York is cheap. Not even the thrills.

I scooted across the seat and cautiously put my foot down on the sidewalk. Grant was holding his hand out to me, so I took it, needing the tug and wanting the touch.

He gave me a smile that I imagined had gained the trust of business partners and women alike. “Honey, we’re home,” he murmured. He helped me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I said, gazing up at him as he pulled me upright and I found my footing. “For the ride. And the ice pack made from your tie. You were clearly a Boy Scout to improvise like that. I’ll dry clean it and bring it to the diner next Wednesday.”

“I’m not worried about my tie. I’m worried about you getting upstairs. What floor do you live on?”