Finding Him (Covet 2)

And if her choice wasn’t me . . .

Then at least I did one thing right.

I made Mom proud in her death the way I couldn’t make her proud in her life.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

KEATON

I clutched the box of donuts like a lifeline and looked behind me like the paranoid celebrity I was. I hadn’t posted any pictures from the party last night and didn’t see any speculation on where I was or what I was doing.

Which meant for now I was safe.

Plus, couldn’t I just be visiting a friend?

A very rich friend who lived in the penthouse apartment and kissed like he was born to make love to my mouth?

I cringed as the lovely doorman let me in and nodded his head. “Mr. Tennyson is expecting you.” He smiled wide. “Go to the top floor, he left his door unlocked and is running a bit late from his morning workout.”

Wow, very detailed, this doorman.

I grinned at him and then opened the box. “A donut for your services.”

He beamed. “I knew I liked you.”

“Ditto.” I laughed as he bent over the box. His black-and-white uniform was pristine. He pulled off one white glove and then winked up at me with crinkles at the sides of his eyes; his hair had speckles of white in it. He just seemed like a really happy person and easy. I liked him.

Especially since the donut he picked was the one with all the sprinkles. “Thank you, Miss Westbrook.”

I almost corrected him, asked him to use a different name, then realized it wouldn’t really matter, would it? Again, nobody knew what was going on.

We were working on a book.

No sex allowed.

My thighs clenched.

Damn it, why did he have to be so aggressive? I wanted him to slam me against the wall and pull all my clothes off and—

“Are you okay, miss?”

“Huh? What? Sorry.” I closed the box and gave him a weak smile. “I’ll just head up?”

“You go ahead, and thank you for the morning treat!”

God, he was adorable. I would bring him donuts every morning if he got that excited.

I quickly got into the elevator. Amazing how much faster it went when Julian wasn’t standing next to me with all his masculinity pulsing in my direction, promising more kisses and orgasms than I could count.

Focus.

Today was about the book.

It was about Noah.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt my body deflate completely. Whenever I thought about Noah, I wondered what he would say to me about Julian. Would he tell me I was making a mistake? Getting in over my head? Was I betraying his memory by hopping into bed with someone so unlike him? Not that Julian didn’t have his strengths. There were a lot of things about him that I loved.

And a lot of things that were obvious red flags.

I sighed as the elevator doors opened, then made my way over to his door and let myself in.

It was quiet, still gorgeous in the daylight, maybe even more so, because with the windows and patio there was so much natural light it made everything look even bigger, more impressive.

The man had absolutely no pictures in his living room of family or friends, which I expected, so I wasn’t sure why it made me sad. Maybe because it was the same man that was going to spend his birthday alone.

My stomach tensed.

Nerves. It was just nerves.

“Oh hey, you’re here,” Julian called from somewhere behind me. I jumped a foot, turned around, and almost choked on my own spit. “I’ll just be another five minutes, make yourself at—” He eyed the box. “Tell me those are from Big O Donuts, and you may just see a grown man cry.”

I was still gaping.

Towel.

He was in a towel.

Protruding muscles clung to his midsection, even his neck looked thick, the rest of him was just damn pleasing, more pleasing than a donut, than a million donuts—wait, what did he ask?

I looked down and then back up. “Big O Donuts, the best orgasm of your life without sex.” I shook the box at him.

Julian all but sprinted to my side and flipped open the top. “One’s missing, there’s only eleven.”

I scowled. “I’ll have you know your doorman deserves a raise.”

Julian grinned down at me. “Trust me, I tip him all the time. He wants for nothing except for maybe female companionship and a few free donuts in the morning.”

“He liked the sprinkles,” I admitted.

“So you’re saying you gave away my favorite donut?”

I stared at him, one eyebrow raised. “How was I supposed to know it was your favorite?”

“Easy.” He swiped some maple frosting across his finger and then sucked it right in front of me, my mouth went dry. “The sweeter the better.”

“R-right.” I licked my lips, imagining the frosting there and then his mouth. “I hope you’re not going to poke every donut with your dirty fingers.”