Beautiful Secret (Beautiful Bastard 4)

“Something is different,” he mused, pointing a finger at me. “You have a grin in your eyes just here.” He motioned to his own brow. “A twinkle. A little spot of sunshine over your head, I think.”

“Do I?”

“You get knobbed in a New York City titty bar?”

His crudeness fell like a weight dropped in the room. “Honestly, Tony.”

He hummed. “Bang a Rockette?”

“Frigging hell.”

He paused, giving me another once-over, then smiled. “Finally get a leg over on Ruby, then?”

I swallowed, caught off guard, pretending to focus on something on my desk. “Ah, no. That . . . I, well, that is to say, I didn’t. No.”

It was the truth, if we were being technical. I hadn’t technically had sex with her yet.

Tony’s hands slapped down on my desk. “You old dog!”

I felt the blood drain from my face. This was exactly the reaction I wanted to avoid. “No, Tony, it’s not—”

“You banged the fringe off her, didn’t you? You had a go at my Ruby!”

I pushed back slightly from my desk, feeling a thunderstorm build in my chest. “ ‘Your Ruby’?’ ”

“So you did then,” he said, clapping his hands once, a violent crack that sliced through the room.

I glanced at the door, hissing at him, “Keep your voice down, you git.”

He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. Tony enjoyed ribbing as much as the next bloke, but there was an edge to his tone here. “Oh, watching you bumble around the office over this is going to make the wait for the next season of Game of Thrones much easier to take.”

“Cut the shit.”

His dark eyes went wide. “And look at the mouth on Niall! I dare say, she’s loosened you up, she has. Think I might step out and thank her.”

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “Tony, don’t.”

“Aw, come on then, tell me,” he said, settling back in the chair, his voice returning to slightly more sincere territory. “What happened?”

I looked at him, feeling the glare slowly drain from my eyes.

“I’m done taking the piss, Niall,” he assured me, smiling with genuine apology. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never in my life imagined—”

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I cut him off, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my desk. I needed to get back some semblance of control. I had to admit it would be helpful for Tony to be generally aware of what was going on between Ruby and me, but surely he didn’t need more information than that. “Turns out she had feelings for me before, and, well . . .” I couldn’t find a way to articulate where my head was concerning Ruby, settling only on “I enjoy her company.”

Tony could clearly see the understatement in my words. “Ah, sure.”

“I’d be grateful if you’d not mention it ’round.”

He nodded, making a little X mark over his heart and giving me a conspiratorial wink.

* * *

Ruby was sitting in the small break room with her friend Pippa when I went in to grab my lunch from the refrigerator. Her eyes met mine and she quickly blinked away, but a bright flush crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

“Ruby. Pippa,” I said in greeting.

“Hi, Mr. Stella,” Pippa replied, brightly. Too brightly. Had Ruby been similarly interrogated?

“Mr. Stella,” Ruby said, looking back up with a secret little smile. Her teeth bit down on the tip of her tongue and I sucked in a sharp breath, remembering the last kiss she gave me before we parted ways last night. Her mouth had tasted like the lemon candy she’d sucked on the drive from the airport. I cleared my throat and reached for the refrigerator door handle.

“Adjusting to the time change?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to her.

She smiled wider, shrugging. “Trying.”

Pippa stared studiously at her plate of leftovers as Ruby’s gaze held mine.

I felt the air draw from my lungs and struggled to inhale evenly. Back here, in everyday life, the reality of us—that there was an Us—made every part of me seem to ache with longing. With her so close all day long, would I be able to focus on any of the work in front of me? Would I be able to focus on anything?

If I considered her features one at a time maybe she would overwhelm me less. Her eyes were too intense; they communicated to me that she was just as desperate to be alone as I was. Her tongue slipped out, dampened her lips. Her neck was long, smooth, and I imagined taking her to my place, kissing down the slope of that throat as I unbuttoned each of the tiny pearls lining the front of her—