“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you let me change anything I want.”
“Done deal. I already knew you’d change everything.”
“Huh.” She snuggles closer. I wrap my arm around her, holding her to me. A few breaths pass before she asks, “Where is it?”
Finally, she’s on the hook. This is the best part and what I’ve been dying to share with her. “You know how you always say it’s amazing that Natalie and Tatum live next door to each other, and how awesome it would be to live next to your best friend?”
Shoving off my chest, she hovers over me. “You did not?”
For a second, I can’t tell if that’s a good reaction or bad, so I say it slowly while nodding to help break the news, “I did.”
The lights drifting in through the windows is enough to see her eyes go wide. She tackles me into a hug. “I can’t believe you bought the house next to Cammie and Cade.”
Oh, shit . . . wrong best friends as new neighbors. “Wait.”
She pushes up again, but in her happiness, she dips to kiss me, and then asks, “What?”
“I, uh . . .” Shit, I don’t know how to fix this. Maybe I should go to Brooklyn and see if the neighbors will sell their house to me.
She swats me and then falls in a giggling mess to the bed next to me. “I’m kidding, St. James.” But then she pops up so fast that her hair falls from that twisted little fabric. “But you better mean Tealey and Rad.”
“Oh, God, I can breathe.” I puff out a harsh breath. She’s still laughing when I say, “I was really thinking I screwed up. So much so that I was already planning a trip to Brooklyn to buy the neighbor’s house.”
“How?” She’s suddenly not joking at all.
“I’d probably call a car. The subway would take too long—”
“No, Jackson. I mean, how would you afford both?”
Caressing my cheek, I say, “We. It’s our money.”
“Half my trust went toward Art for the Community, and the other eight million went into a nest egg for our family. You own this apartment. You now own a house in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city.”
“I also own a building in Staten Island, a farm outside Nashville, and a lake house in Austin.”
“I. Hm . . .” Lying down, she tucks her hands under her cheek. “I think we need to talk about finances soon. Yours specifically since you already know about mine.”
“I’m an open book. All you have to do is ask me. But to save you some trouble. I’ve made some really good investments, and the settlement from Morgenstern wasn’t too shabby either.”
She leans over and kisses me. “You know, it’s not money that impresses me.”
I watch, entranced by the sight of her tongue sliding over her bottom lip. “Oh, yeah? What impresses you, baby?”
She reaches under the covers and rubs her hand along my length. “Really big . . .”
“Yes?” I swallow hard, wanting to kiss her so badly and start round two for the night. “Go on. Tell me what impresses you.”
Taking hold of me, she says, “Closets. Tell me about the closet space at the new house. Talk about a turn-on.”
“Mmm.” I roll on top of her, wedging her legs apart with my knee, and settle in exactly where I want to be. When her arms come around me, I say, “I’d rather show you because I promise you, I never disappoint.”
Six Months Later . . .
“You do not disappoint, Jackson St. James.”
Hate to brag, but I’m so tempted to say I told you so. I don’t because I’m a grown man who can control himself.
She walks to the drawers under the backlit, glass front cabinets and opens them. On the third one, she stops and stares down at the contents. When she glances back at me over her shoulder, a mischievous grin arises. “You did not.”
“I did.”
“How many pairs of underwear are in here?”
I sit down in the chair and swivel. “Enough for me to have my way every night for the next two months.”
“You bought me sixty pairs of Agent Provocateur underwear?”
“Technically, I bought them for me to rip right off your fucking sexy body. There’s also a gift card so you can go buy anything you like in there.”
She laughs, picking up the card. Looking at me again, she says, “You know you didn’t have to do this. I’m perfectly fine buying my own panties to let you rip off me.”
“I wanted to. I keep my promises.”
Coming over to me, she sits on my lap and wraps around me. She kisses me and then says, “You certainly do. How’d I get so lucky?”
Running my hand over the scruff of my chin, I reply, “I think it was beer from a keg.”