“You look beautiful.” I forego her lips, careful not to smear the vivid line of her lipstick, and opting to kiss Neruda’s scripted words running along her shoulder instead. I lift the gold bar necklace hanging between her breasts bearing the same inscription.

“Is Dr. Hammond’s daughter okay?” Worry pinches her expression.

“I think so.” I caution myself to keep it casual. Any talk of danger to a kid hits too close to home, brings up too many things we’re trying to get past. “He didn’t have all the information and was on his way to Philly.”

The longer we stand here together, the less I think about anything but us. I hope Iz’s daughter is okay, and I’m nervous about debating Ford, but Bristol’s scent, her proximity make everything else fade. We haven’t even talked about what the doctor said at her six-week. It was such a whirlwind getting out of LA and arriving here, and now we’ve both been pulled into commitments. At this rate, it’ll be tomorrow before my sore wrist goes into retirement. I rest my hands at her hips, rubbing my palms along the silkiness of her dress, imagining her skin, even silkier beneath. I turn a pointed glare on Amir, not so subtly signaling him to get ghost and give me a few minutes with my girl before we have to go our separate ways for the night.

“Uh, I’ll meet you downstairs in . . .” His expression inquires as he heads for the door.

“Twenty minutes. I need to get there a lot earlier now.”

“K. I’ll call for the car.”

“Bye Amir,” Bristol says. “We’ll see you in a little bit.”

“We?” I eat up the inches separating us, leaning down to run my nose along the satiny curve of her neck. “Damn, you smell good, Bris.”

“Thanks.” She pulls back and grabs her phone from the couch. “If you think for one second I’m leaving you in the same room with Clem Ford without me, you have another thing coming.”

As much as I want her with me, I don’t want her babysitting or feeling like I can’t handle my shit with this idiot.

Okay . . . I did lose my shit a little that last time, but that’s beside the point.

“That’s not necessary,” I tell her.

“Okay, it’s not necessary.” She doesn’t look up while her fingers fly over the keys of her phone. “But I’m still coming.”

“Speaking of coming . . .” I pluck the phone from her fingers and hide it behind my back. “We didn’t get to talk about what the doctor said yesterday.”

I can’t read her face, but she stops reaching for the phone.

“Oh, she said I’m fine.” She licks her lips, her brows jerking together and her eyes shifting away. “I mean, we can . . . ya know.”

My arm drops to my side and I hand her the phone without a word. We can ya know wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for. I mean, it’s great that we can . . . ya know . . . but she doesn’t sound too enthusiastic about it, certainly not desperate for it like I am. I swallow my disappointment and smooth over another layer of patience.

“Great.” I clear my throat and glance

down at my dark jeans, button-up, and Jordans. “I look okay? I wasn’t planning to be onstage but I—”

“Grip, I’m sorry,” she interrupts. “You’ve been really patient, and I know it’s been hard.”

It’s hard right now with the double addiction of her scent and her nearness seeping into my veins and smoldering in my blood and headed for my cock like a cum-seeking missile, but I play it off.

“Babe, it’s okay.” I cradle her face between my hands and caress her cheeks. “However long you need. I’m not some horny beast.”

She gives me a look that says, I know you.

“Okay, I’m a horny beast.” I laugh to keep from crying because I’m as hard as Skid Row right about now. “But we have the rest of our lives.”

If I say it enough, maybe this hard-on will believe me.

“Tonight, when I get home . . .” she starts.

“Tonight? Yeah, we can do tonight.” Eager bastard. “Or tomorrow. Tonight works if you want.”

“I was going to say it’ll be late when I get home tonight.” Bristol’s smile loosens because she’s not so secretly laughing at me. “I have to meet Jimmi when I leave the debate, and there’s no telling what time I’ll get home.”

I’ve fucked on less than two minutes of sleep before, but I don’t point that out. If there’s a curfew on our new sex life, we can ease into this.

Tags: Kennedy Ryan Romance
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