He chuckled, zipping up a pair of low-hanging jeans. “I can do that.” He kissed me swiftly on the forehead before disappearing down the stairs. A moment later, I heard a muted commotion from the kitchen.
“With all due respect, Mr. Taylor, I don’t know what to do if you start to make a habit of this.” The poor displaced chef had apparently been pushed past his limits. “You know I struggle with high blood pressure.”
“It’s just a piece of cantaloupe, James, I can cut it myself.”
With a wide grin, I snatched up the sheets and fashioned myself a little dress before skipping across the room for a quick shower. Marcus’ bathroom was just as big as mine but had been decked out with “manly versions” of all the toiletries I had. I opened each one in turn, giving them a testing sniff as the hot water ran down my skin. In the end, I decided to go with the sandalwood scent that Marcus used himself, applying a huge dollop and lathering it up just as I heard him slowly coming up the stairs. With the speed of a jungle cat. I rinsed off the suds, quickly toweled dry, and sprinted back across the room, landing noiselessly just above the pillows as he pushed open the door.
He looked at me curiously for a moment, before giving the air a tentative sniff. “Did you take a shower?”
“No, I just naturally smell this…mouthwatering.”
He chuckled and set the tray on the edge of the mattress as he slipped back out of his pants and climbed onto the bed.
I reached for the tray with a wink, smiling at the hastily plucked flower I could tell was from a bush outside the kitchen window. With a grand relish, I lifted the silver lid off my plate. “Let’s see what culinary master Marcus Taylor has whipped up for us today—” My voice trailed off as my eyes fell on the plate.
My engraved, diamond bracelet glittered back at me.
“Surpris
e,” he whispered, studying my face carefully for a reaction.
The world around us seemed to stop as I stared down at the impossible.
“You…you found it?”
I traced the edges of the stones with utter amazement. After Marcus had publicly proposed, I had dropped this in the hands of a homeless man outside a coffee shop. But sure enough, I spotted the engraving that made the jewels so priceless. How was this possible?
“A homeless guy was trying to sell it when I went to get coffee,” he said quietly, picking it up and slipping it back around my wrist. “When I examined it, I knew who the owner was.”
He smiled wistfully and combed back my hair. The whole thing had been said ever so casually, but I was completely dumbfounded that he would do that for me.
“So how did you get it back?” I asked suddenly.
He suddenly laughed. “I didn’t rob the poor guy. I went straight to the bank and came back with fifteen thousand dollars in cash. After a bit of persuading, the man decided it was a fair trade.”
My mouth dropped open. I…didn’t know how to process that. In the end, I simply gave him a big smile, peering up at him through my lashes.
“It must have slipped right out of my hand.”
His face came down and he kissed me warm on the mouth, hand winding back through my hair, holding me there until we finally surfaced. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” He winked.
I nodded, breathless and out of sorts. This was like some kind of floaty dream. The kind where I woke up, then considered suicide-by-chocolate because I was still in East Hollywood.
This kind of thing just didn’t happen in real life.
“You know what? I’ll take diamonds any day over breakfast.”
His head fell back against the pillows with a sparkling laugh. “Sorry I didn’t bring up real food. Turns out, I’m not allowed to cook. The chef will be up in a few minutes.”
“A few minutes, eh?” I set the tray back on the ground and rolled mischievously onto his chest. “I’ll only need half that time…”
Chapter 16
Nothing was ever the same after that night. The perfect few days of me staying with Marcus at the villa turned into the perfect few weeks. The renovations were long since completed at my apartment, but neither Amanda nor I ever fully moved back in. She was happy as a clam staying over at Barry’s Westwood townhouse, and as for me? Well, I don’t think either Marcus or I had to say it, but if I was ever crazy enough to want to move back to East Hollywood, he’d probably just move there with me.
Augustina was staying comfortably at her country estate, and both my mother and Max had flown back to their respective homes—leaving Marcus and me to settle into a euphoric Los Angeles “winter.” Every day was seventy degrees and every evening we went for a midnight swim. That is, if we weren’t too busy doing other things.
After a few days, both he and I had to get back to work. Every now and then in the evenings, he’d have to take a video conference. But after the first one, where I’d discreetly snuck under his desk and started to…play—he generally did those locked in his study.