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“Alright. I’ll hold off. Just don’t fuck me over, Hunter.” The line beeped once, twice, and when I pulled my phone from my ear, I realized he’d hung up. The temptation to crush the piece of metal and glass gnawed at the back of my mind as I stuffed it into my pocket.
Warm and soft arms wrapped around my waist. “Morning,” Lottie mumbled, her voice muffled from her face pressing into my back. The ache in my chest bloomed again.
I did my best to wipe the stress away and spun around in her arms, cradling her into my chest instead. “It’s basically evening,” I chuckled.
“Let me pretend it’s morning.”
Lifting her chin with one bent knuckle, she looked up at me with the haze of sleep still buzzing in her. Fuck. The back of my throat tightened, that telltale sign that there were things I wanted to say to her that wouldn’t come out. The fact that this woman had somehow wormed her way into my head from the very first night, was still unreal to me.
I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers, cherishing the moment of calm without the overwhelming need to be inside of her. I couldn’t blame it on anything, it was just a want, pure and demanding.
“You should get ready,” I whispered against her mouth. My fingers dragged through her hair, my body betraying me and keeping her close when I needed her to go and prepare for the evening. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
————
Of course Charlotte decided to wear the sexiest possible thing she could just to get a rise out of me.
She leaned over the hotel kitchen’s workspace, her long black hair piling against the stainless steel countertop and her breasts practically falling out of the top of her dress. I’d shoved my phone into a glass to act as an impromptu speaker, and the same playlist I’d had on during her interview back on Oahu played calmly in the background as she watched me work.
“How much did you have to pay them for this?” she asked, her teasing grin widening as she pushed her elbows closer together.
I had to physically stop myself from looking directly at her breasts. “That is a secret I will take to my grave.”
Her eyes flicked upward, a half roll. “Come on. They had to close the restaurant. That’s staff pay, cover for the profit they would have made, enough on top to sweeten the deal…”
“I’m not telling you,” I laughed. Dark alcohol cascaded from the top of the bottle I held in my hand, deglazing the bottom of the pan before I tilted it on its edge, catching it on fire. Charlotte’s little gasp reminded me far too much of the noises she’d made that morning and I had to direct my thoughts away from it before I caught my dick on fire, too. “Does it bother you how much I might have spent?”
Her head shook back and forth, her hair flying. “No. Not on something like this.”
The alcohol burned off quickly and the flames died down. Grabbing a spoon, I started basting the top of the steaks
with the liquor, butter, and herb combination. “What does that mean?”
She pushed up from the counter, stretching her arms in front of her. “It means that if you wanted to take me on a date, this is the kind of thing I like. Not fancy restaurants with teams of photographers, something more personable.”
The tiniest drop of guilt took form in my chest. I hadn’t thought to ask her what kind of dates she preferred, but in fairness, private things wouldn’t work very well for the image we were trying to present. We needed coverage, and coverage came with being in public so the press could photograph us. I had assumed that fancy dinners were something most women enjoyed. I guess I hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe she didn’t.
“I’ve just never been one for over-the-top, lavish dates.”
“Booking out the hotel kitchen and restaurant for two people isn’t over-the-top or lavish?” I chuckled, taking the pan off the heat to give the steaks time to rest. I pulled open the oven, checking on the baby potatoes and roasting tomatoes.
“No,” she grinned. “Because you did it to cook just for me.”
————
“Have you ever had a stable girlfriend or have you always fucked anything that moves?”
I had to cover my mouth to keep the red wine from coming out of my nose. Lottie didn’t even bat an eyelash as she cut into her perfectly cooked cut of steak, plopping a bite into her mouth with a satisfying hum. “You can’t just ask me that out of nowhere,” I laughed, half to cover up the minor uncomfortableness of the question and half because her pupils dilated as she chewed.
“This is so good,” she said around a mouthful, her hand blocking my view of her lips.
“I know it is.”
“Come on, then,” she pushed. “Answer the question. I’m just curious.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. There was only so far I’d been willing to go into my past with other women, only so much I was willing to tell. But talking with her felt like talking to an old friend, like speaking with someone who knew everything about you. “I had a fiancée.”
Her eyes widened further and her body stilled.
