After the Kiss (Sex, Love & Stiletto 1) - Page 54
“Why is movie night so important to you?” he asked in response.
Because it’s the hallmark of everything I’ve never wanted. The sign that I’ve done my duty to Stiletto and can get back to my old life. My real life.
“Probably for the same reason you balked at it last night,” she said bluntly. “Because it means something.”
He looked at her. Looked away. “I know what it means. Why do you think I suggested it?”
Julie didn’t think it was possible to choke on one’s heart, but it certainly felt like her heart had lodged somewhere near her esophagus. “But last night you said—”
“Last night I was a scared little boy who thought I’d be happy with a quick lay and a few laughs over the occasional dinner.”
“And now?” she whispered.
His fingers drifted over her cheek, a whisper of a touch. “Now I’m a man, spending a quiet evening with a woman I’m crazy about.”
Something tore open inside her, and she didn’t know if it was regret, terror, or wild, senseless joy.
She closed her eyes and turned her cheek into his palm. “Mitchell?”
“Yeah?” His voice was husky.
Julie kissed his palm, the gesture feeling like something between a promise and a goodbye. She didn’t know which. “Let’s watch baseball,” she said softly.
Twin dimples of boyish wonder appeared on his face, and the look of sheer joy there was worth the messier parts of this little relationship charade. And when he flipped on the ball game, then pulled her against him, resting his cheek against the top of her head as their hands fought for the last slice of pizza, it didn’t feel like a charade at all.
Chapter Twelve
“Jules, you can’t quit now. You have him exactly where you want him,” Riley said as she signaled to the waitress for another round of drinks.
It would be Julie’s third cocktail, which was a good deal more than she should be having on a random Wednesday night when she still had work to do, but this was no ordinary weekday.
Camille had stopped by the Dating, Love, and Sex office to remind them that they were one week away from the first-draft deadline for August’s issue. One week until she was supposed to put whatever was happening with Mitchell on paper. One week until she sold him out for the sake of a story.
She needed more drinks. But more than the booze, Julie needed her girlfriends. Or at least she’d thought she’d needed them. Unfortunately, neither one was shaping up to be the beacon of infinite supportive wisdom that she’d been hoping for.
Grace was wearing her disappointed face, and every prim sip of her chardonnay seemed to scream, You’re a dirty, dirty whore. And Riley was even less helpful, insisting that Julie push through with the ridiculous plan.
“Yeah, I know he’s where I want him,” Julie said, trying to drink away the feeling of self-loathing. “That’s kind of my point. Mission accomplished. Now it’s time to wrap this thing up and write the damned story already.”
“Are you sure you have enough?” Riley said, scrunching up her face. “One night of baseball watching isn’t exactly a marriage proposal.”
Grace shot Riley an annoyed look.
“What?” Riley muttered. “It’s baseball.”
You weren’t there. It was more. But had it been? Really? Or was she putting way too much stock in the importance of movie night? Or sports night, as it had turned out to be. It wasn’t as though there had been love words exchanged. And the next morning when she’d accompanied him on his morning run, it wasn’t as if he’d dragged her by Tiffany’s on the way back.
Something unfamiliar rippled through her at the thought of the jewelry store, and she waited for the usual sense of dread to pour over her at the notion of one of those tiny little jewelry boxes and what they meant.
But there was no dread. No disdain. No terror.
That’s what was unfamiliar.
She’d let the image of a freaking engagement ring roll around in her brain and hadn’t wanted to amputate the fourth finger of her left hand “just in case.”
Oh, good God.
“Look,” Riley said in a gentler voice. “I know you feel kind of hooker-ish about the whole situation, but you said yourself this was just good sex and companionship. Maybe you guys can keep things going once you get the story written. Maybe he won’t even care.”
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