Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

I had on basketball shorts and nothing else and I ditched those in two seconds. “If you’re tired, then yes, we should definitely go to bed.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, we cuddle. I’ll cuddle you in a way you’ve never been cuddled before.”

The corner of her mouth turned up in a sly, seductive smile. “Why, Grant, you sweet talker you.”

I realized, as I climbed on the bed, I had no idea what Leah was actually thinking.

All I knew was that I was thinking she looked damn good in my bed and I never wanted her to leave.

Chapter 10

I didn’t sleep at all. Or very little, anyway. I stared at my ceiling and I stared at Leah and I stared out the damn window wondering what the hell was going on with my feelings and wondering what the hell I was supposed to do about it.

Leah was sleeping peacefully, her dark hair spilling over the white of the pillowcase. I’d never had a woman spend the night here. If I stayed with a hookup, it was always at her place. I didn’t like women in my private space, my sanctuary. Yet Leah had invaded my apartment with her teasing and her laughter and her soft moans. I didn’t mind. I liked it. She made the space feel alive in a way it hadn’t before.

I was lying there debating how to climb out of bed without waking her up when my phone buzzed. The sneakers I’d ordered for Leah the night before were downstairs at the front desk. We could grab them on our way out.

My phone woke Leah up. She sighed and rolled over toward me, resting her hand on my chest. Her eyes were still closed. “What time is it?” she murmured.

“It’s early. You can keep sleeping.” I ran my hand over her back, wondering what it would feel like to wake up next to Leah on a regular basis.

Something monumental had happened. There was no denying it and my intentions had shifted.

I was weighing the pros and cons of a relationship in my mind. I was negotiating with myself like it was a damn business deal. Return on investment. Risk factors. Initial start-up costs. I wanted a numerical calculation to tell me if it would be a solid venture or not but surprise. Relationships don’t fucking work like that. There was no formula that would give me the potential success rate of dating Leah.

I rubbed my hand over my beard and decided I was an asshole.

“Are you awkward about morning breath or am I allowed to kiss you?” Leah asked.

She had pried her eyes open and was giving me a sleepy smile. What man on the planet would turn down a kiss from a face that freaking adorable? I didn’t answer, just cupped her cheek and pressed my lips to hers.

“Mm. That’s nice,” she said. “Beach or mountains?”

“Beach.” I didn’t even need to ask what she meant. She was continuing twenty questions. “You?”

“Beach. Would you rather go to outer space or down into the depths of the ocean?”

“Good one. Huh. The ocean.”

“Outer space.”

“What were you doing a year ago today?”

“Specifically, today? As in this date or this particular Friday in October?”

“Either one.”

“I don’t remember exactly. But working on a project in SoHo. Redevelopment of retail space to condos. What were you doing?”

She laughed. “Not this. I was working and I had an audition for a Broadway show right around this time. I didn’t get the part.”

“What will you be doing next year at this time?” I asked.

Leah wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

Because we’d both probably be doing the same thing. Exactly what we’d been doing last year and should be doing this year if it wasn’t for my parents’ party.