In Bed with the Beast (Naughty Princess Club 2)

“You got a promotion?!” I ask excitedly. “Oh, my gosh, this is wonderful! Congratulations!”

Vincent runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh.

“Uh, thanks. It just happened, so . . . ,” he says in a low voice.

Eric drops his arm from around me and moves behind me to stand by Ariel.

“So, hot stuff, how about we go back to my office and I show you how sturdy my new desk is?”

“Eat shit and die,” Ariel replies sweetly with a huge smile on her face before turning away from him to look at me.

“Forget what I said about not getting herpes from this place. If I stand next to this asshole too much longer, I’ll be crawling with that shit. I’ll be out in the car. Make it snappy.”

With that, she gives Eric the middle finger before walking away and disappearing down the hallway that leads to the door to the parking lot.

“One of these days, she’s going to fall madly in love with me,” Eric muses before heading off in the opposite direction, to the back offices, leaving Vincent and me alone.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with my parents. They can be a little . . . overwhelming,” he says.

“You’re not mad I answered your phone?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the bar, bringing himself closer to me.

“Any chance you can get out of work early tonight?” I ask hopefully.

“Possibly. Why?” he asks, looking at me in a way that makes my whole body tingle, and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking about the last time he got out of work early and what we did on that folding chair.

“I want to celebrate your promotion. Make you dinner or something,” I tell him, hoping he knows I’m thinking about the exact same thing.

The sensual way he was just looking at me disappears in an instant, and his face is back to being completely void of emotion.

“I’ll see what I can do. We should probably . . . talk when I get home.”

I really don’t like the way he says that, and it fills me with dread. Maybe he hasn’t been enjoying what we’ve been doing together as much as I thought he did. Maybe he’s changed his mind and realizes I’m not really worth all this trouble. My heart falls right down into my stomach, and I swallow past the lump forming in my throat.

“Okay, sounds great! So, I’ll just see you when you get home,” I tell him in a rush, turning and fleeing from the club as fast as I can before I do something stupid like cry in front of him.

Chapter 24: The Mess Can Wait

Throwing on my soft, grey T-shirt with the words Book Nerd on it, where the Os are a pair of reading glasses, along with a pair of grey-and-yellow-plaid flannel pajama bottoms, I don’t feel any better, but at least I’m comfortable.

After a mentally exhausting day that started with Vincent being weird and confusing and ended with a phone call from the board president telling me that I should start preparing myself now for the library to close, even an hourlong soak in Vincent’s Jacuzzi tub with one of my favorite romance novels didn’t brighten my spirits.

On top of that, I completely forgot to have Cindy take me to the grocery store before she dropped me off earlier, on her way to do a bachelor party. I was so excited about cooking for Vincent tonight and celebrating his promotion, and now I just want to go to sleep and pretend this day never happened.

I pull my hair out of its messy bun and slide the hair tie on my wrist as I head down the hallway, thinking I’ll just look through the takeout menus I saw in a kitchen drawer the other day and order something for dinner. When I emerge from the hallway, my feet stutter to a stop.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to make, so I just grabbed a little of everything.”

Vincent is standing behind the island, which is currently covered in what looks like one of every single item in the grocery store. I slowly start moving again until I’m standing on the other side of the island, staring down at everything in awe.

“You got asparagus. And risotto. And . . . kale?” I ask in shock, picking up the bag of leafy greens.

“That’s kale? I thought it was giant parsley,” he mutters.

To say I’m shocked is an understatement. Vincent’s fridge is filled with about thirty takeout containers, a bottle of mustard, and at least a hundred sauce packets from Taco Bell. He brings takeout home every night on his way home from work, making sure to buy enough so I can eat it the next day. I’ve eaten so much takeout in recent weeks, I’m surprised I haven’t gained thirty pounds. I didn’t think he even knew where a grocery store was, let alone how to shop. Granted, he pretty much just bought out the entire store, but still. He actually bought vegetables. And from the look of things, enough ingredients for me to make fifty different dishes.