12
Itugged at my dress, pulling my hair up and letting it down again. I wasn’t sure if I looked right yet. I was just going to the library, a place I’d been a dozen times before, but I still wanted to look right for work.
I finally let my hair down, allowing it to flow over my shoulders. Sexy librarians were a thing, right? Yeah, a porn category, I replied to myself snarkily. I quickly pulled my hair up and tied it into a ponytail and checked for the thousandth time that everything was in place for me to head to work. I finished up the last of the coffee I had been sipping on. Kristo had made me a pot, the same as he had on my first morning here, and I was surprised at how quickly I was growing to love the bittersweet darkness of it.
It was odd, getting ready in an apartment that wasn’t my own, but I supposed I was going to have to get used to it now that I had officially moved in with him. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see his family again soon. That dinner had been way more than enough, and that was with a couple of glasses of wine to take off the edge. I felt as though they were interrogating me, especially his grandmother, who seemed determined to wring any drop of insecurity out of me, to shine a light in the dark corners of my soul to be sure I was an appropriate partner for her grandson. Kristo told me they were all satisfied by me, but I’d walked out of there even more nervous than before. I was supposed to keep fooling these people for a whole year? It didn’t make sense.
I grabbed my laptop, slipped it into my bag, and went for the door. That was when it hit me. I didn’t have a car. How the hell was I supposed to get to work?
“Kris—”
I turned around to go find him and ask what the heck I should do, but before I could go anywhere, I walked straight into him. For a split second, the feel of his body so close to mine and the smell of his aftershave and his shower gel filling my senses brought me back to that night I’d forgotten. I could feel his hands all over me, his body moving against mine, his skin warm and cool all at the same time, his touch—
“What’s up?” he asked, stepping away from me, taking me by the shoulders and guiding me away from him. I blinked up at him, and somehow, he knew what was going through my mind.
“I hired a driver for you,” he explained quickly. “He’s waiting downstairs, and he knows where he’s going. Have a good day at work.”
I stood there for a long moment, just staring at him, and he took me by the arms and turned me around to face the door. He gave me a tiny little push in the direction of the exit, and any other guy and I would have scoffed at what he was trying to do. But I didn’t even have words to reply to him. I felt as though my brains were leaking out the back of my head in reaction to being so close to him again, and if there was one thing I didn’t like, it was feeling stupid.
“Uh, right,” I managed as he made his way past me and headed to his bedroom, probably to go get changed to head to his own office. I stared after him for a long moment. My mind was reeling at what had just happened. Well, not walking into him but about how strongly and instantly being that near to him had affected me. Even as I went for the door, my head felt as though it was still spinning, trying to make sense of how it felt to be so close to him all over again. I wanted to lean up and kiss him, to wind my arms tightly around his neck and press my body against his and tell him to forget work because we were going to spend the rest of the day in bed together.
Fuck, how was it fair that even now, he drew something out of hiding deep down inside of me?
I headed downstairs and went outside, and sure enough, there was a car sitting at the curb waiting for me. The driver nodded at me, and I wondered how much he was in on the game, if he knew we were married but not really married. That said, my carnal desire for my husband had taken a sudden uptick, and I wondered if I had been a little too hasty in asking to sleep in the bed by myself since I’d arrived.
I climbed into the back of the car and smiled nervously at the driver. I had never not driven myself to work before. It wasn’t like I could afford to pay for someone to take me in, and I barely ever took cabs because I always thought of it as a waste of money. It was odd, knowing that now, I could have asked for a driving tour of the whole city and been able to afford lunch at the end of it.
“The library?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I replied, and he drew away from the building and down into the city. I turned to watch the apartment vanish into the distance. Some part of me was still begging for us to turn around, forget work, and spend the rest of the day hiding out in the apartment together reminding ourselves of everything we’d both forgotten.
That was probably the most frustrating part of all of this. I couldn’t remember what we’d done together that night, no matter how much I cast my mind back and tried to fit the pieces together. I had lain in bed and strained to remember what had gone down—hell, if he had—but I couldn’t remember a thing. The bruises and marks on my body from that night were beginning to fade, but they weren’t replaced by memories, and that was starting to get to me.
Because I wanted to remember. He was still one of the most stone-cold gorgeous men I’d ever seen in my life, and it felt like it would be a waste to spend a whole year with him and not do something more practical about my attraction. Just so we could remember. If I had chosen to marry him after it, then I had to assume it had been good, or perhaps our sex together was a pseudo-honeymoon, coming after the vows?
I leaned back against the plush leather and let my mind wander a little. He had told me it was up to me what happened in the bedroom. In fact, when he had lain that out to me, it had seemed more like a challenge than anything else, as though he was double-daring me to take him up on the offer to see what he could deliver on if I’d give him the chance.
When he’d leaned in close to my ear and told me he would make meeting his family worthwhile, sex was the first thing I thought he was referencing. Turned out I was wrong. He had purchased an enormous box of chocolates that he’d presented me with the next morning, and I had found myself a little disappointed. Some part of me had hoped he was going to sweep me off my feet and carry me to the bedroom, to show me what I’d been missing. But he was too much of a gentleman for that, and he was still leaving it up to me. Right now, after bumping into him this morning, I was leaning firmly toward hell yes.
What would he be like in bed? I couldn’t help wondering. He had this calm, cool confidence that oozed off him in waves, and I had a feeling that would pass over to his sex life too. He would be the kind of guy who’d issue orders like he owned you, speaking firmly with a hint of tenderness, stroking his hand down your back before landing a slap on your ass, kissing your neck before he bared his teeth against the skin. I could almost feel it now, his breath hot on my ear, just the way it had been outside his family’s house. I shivered and squirmed a little against the plush leather of the seat. God, that was a thought. I could linger on that one all day. His hands gripping me as though he couldn’t get enough of me, looking deeply into my eyes as he moved inside me, how it would feel to share that connection with him, my husband, my—
“Excuse me?” The driver was looking at me in the mirror, and I blinked a couple of times and came back to reality. My cheeks were flushed in the rearview mirror, and I swallowed and cleared my throat.
“Yes?”
“We’re here.” He gestured outside. I grabbed my bag and pulled it onto my lap, for some reason defensive despite myself.
“Uh, right, sorry.” I nodded. “Thanks. For the lift, I mean.”
“Thank your husband,” he replied simply. “He’s the one who organized this for you.”
“I will.” I nodded again and lingered for another moment, not sure if I should tip him or something. But instead, I got out of the car and headed in to start work. My mind was racing over everything I’d been imagining on the ride over. I would be thanking my husband all right, just not in the way that driver expected.