We left Michigan Avenue with throngs of bags dripping from our arms.
It was all so much, and every time I looked over at Gray my heart fluttered in my chest. And every chance I got, I tried to remind myself that it was only temporary. Sure, he might have stalled out his time in Illinois because of Cecily’s fake interest in the house, but he was still going to sell it. And once he sold Anton’s property, he’d be gone again. I felt like I was in a fairytale, but even books and movies had their ends.
And they didn’t always end with a happily ever after.
We hauled all of our bags upstairs and into the penthouse suite. And when he turned around to smile at me, my heart stopped in my chest.
It’s make believe. He’s leaving soon. Don’t get too wrapped up.
“I’d love to see that dark green dress on you again,” Gray said.
But deep down inside, I knew I was falling for him. And I knew whatever he asked of me, I would deliver. I dug through the bags until I found the dress he was looking for, then ran off to the room to get changed.
I was in so much trouble it made me sick to my stomach.
Chapter 23
Grayson
“Are you sure we shouldn’t go back tonight?” Michelle asked.
I kissed her bare shoulder as the ripped green dress glared at me from the chair in the corner.
“I’m sure,” I said, into her skin. “I promise to get us up early and get you home before your shift at the diner. You can nap in the car on the way back, if you’d like. I’ll drive a little slower to give you more time to rest.”
I nuzzled my nose against her neck and relished at the giggle that fell from her lips.
“Are we spending another night in then?” she asked.
She turned around in my arms and her tits pressed warmly against my chest.
“Actually, I figured we could get changed into one of these outfits and go have a nice dinner.”
“I thought the nice dinner was supposed to be saved for selling Anton’s house,” she said.
“Well, then consider it a date.”
The shock that rolled across her face sent a grin across my cheeks. I loved the fact that I could still stun her. And my words weren’t lies. I wanted to take her out on a date. A proper one. One with floor-length tablecloths and a sprawling wine list and a menu tailored to our delight. I wanted to show her off on my arm and have every single man in all of Chicago drool at the curvy woman clinging to my side.
I wanted the world to know Michelle Danforth was mine.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get ready and I’ll call in the reservations.”
It took a very generous donation and a future favor for me to get us seats for that evening at Oriole, but it would be worth it. I pulled out a pair of dark gray slacks and a crisp blue shirt to wear for the evening. I rolled up the cuffs and abandoned the tie, then threaded a leather belt through the loops of my pants.
But it wasn’t until I heard the clicking of heels along the floor that I realized how much trouble I was really in.
The second I laid my eyes on Michelle, my heart stopped. It dropped to my toes, leaving me without a pulse as my eyes scanned her body. I hadn’t seen her in that dress today. The pale yellow number she had on. It clung to her tits and had fabric that fell off her shoulders. It cinched in at her waist and flared with fabric that fluttered when she twirled for me. Her heels flexed her legs in ways that struck up a growl. I swallowed it down as best as I could, taking in the slopes and valleys of a body I knew I’d never be able to get enough of.
“What do you think?” Michelle asked.
Her dark red hair was piled high on her head and her lips glistened with a crimson red. When the hell had she picked up lipstick? I felt my jaw drop before I closed it quickly, then walked over to her and offered her my arm.
“There are no words,” I said.
Her cheeks tinted to match her lips as we started for the restaurant.
I wanted to impress her tonight. Not with my money, but with my knowledge of wine. We sat down at our reserved table and my feet immediately slid against hers, and I asked the waiter for a wine list before I bombarded him with questions.