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I closed the door quietly and flew down the stairs. I had work to do, dinner to order, and a woman staying in my home for the first time since I’d bought it.
It felt like a second chance, and I wasn’t about to ruin it.
***
Chapter Eight
Whitney
This house was stunning. It couldn’t have been more perfect if I had plucked it straight out of something I saved from social media. The furniture was warm and comfortable, still so perfect that I almost flinched the first time I sat down on the sitting area in the master room.
Biting into my lip, I tried to focus on the fact he’d told me to use the furniture. And more than that, he’d seemed happier and more relaxed here than anywhere I’d seen him. It was nice, seeing this bit of him.
This new Emerson.
I could like him. Or, at the very least, like his style. When curiosity bubbled up in my chest, I didn’t stop myself from moving through the room, even going as far as opening the excessively large closet and walking among his suits.
I promised myself that I would stop creeping after that. And I did. Mostly because I had found the shower. It was orgasmic. Huge, bright, smelled like cedar and something so Emerson that I almost pressed my face against the stack of towels on the shelf.
My mind instantly made up, I turned the rain shower heads on and let the water fog the glass shower doors. I peeled myself out of my dress, feeling instantly better as the wrinkled and dirty garment fell to the marble, and stepped under the scorching water.
I didn’t push things but took my time washing every inch of my body, soaking in quiet to let my brain finally settle. We were safe here. I pressed a hand against the warm bump, feeling the suds from my hair slip over my fingers.
With a sigh, I turned the water off. It was time to get back to reality. After I toweled off, I realized a small error in my thoughts.
David still wasn’t here. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t in the bathroom with me. A quick peak out to the bedroom told me my things weren’t waiting. With a sigh, I dried my hair the best I could and then located a worn black tee in Emerson’s closet before ducking out into the room to pluck a pair of loose gray sweatpants from his drawers.
The T-shirt was surprisingly perfect. Even though it was large on me, it gave my belly the prefect amount of breathing room, and the broken-in cotton felt like heaven on my skin. I rolled the waist a little to be sure I didn’t trip and decided to go find Emerson.
As it turned out, he was looking for me too. We ran into each other on the stairs, and I’d have had to be blind to miss the look he gave me as he took in my outfit. There was surprise, and then a deep, dark-rooted hunger replaced it. I stopped on the stair above the one he stood on. Nervously, I tugged at the edge of his shirt.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to grab.”
“This is perfect,” Emerson said, deep voice rumbling between us. “You look great in my clothes.”
I giggled a little at that, smoothing a hand against my belly. “They feel good.”
“Then they’re yours. Anything of mine is yours.” He swallowed loudly. “Anything.”
I knew instantly we were talking about the furthest thing from clothing, but still, my belly quivered with his proximity as well as his words. He’d gotten rid of his tie and suit jacket, and his shirt gaped at the collar, exposing a toned, stubbed jaw and neck.
I licked my lips, unable to stop myself. “You mentioned dinner?”
“I sure did. Come on down. I ordered a little of everything,” Emerson turned, slipping a hand into mine before I could think twice. And more than that, I let him.
Because his hand in mine felt as natural as breathing. And as natural as it felt to pull my chair closer to his in his beautiful dining room and dig into the variety of takeout dishes in front of us.
I was in way over my head, I knew that. But I couldn’t help thinking that for the first time since I’d come to this city, my future was more settled than ever.
***
I was stuffed. I’d eaten my weight in a variety of tacos and guacamole, and I knew that my fingers would probably be little sausages in the morning. But it was worth it.
Nothing had tasted better in months. And maybe it was because of the company. Because Emerson the CEO and baby daddy was soft-spoken and quiet like Emerson the bodyguard. But other than that, he was also flirty, a bit of a nerd, and more than a lot of obsessives with every little thing I did.
If there hadn’t been a table between us, I was sure the man would’ve been halfway across my lap, making sure I properly chewed every bite.
I felt my face warm when I moved around the table to hand him the last container from the table. “Thank you so much for dinner.”
