Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Yes.” He smiles. “But I’m willing to make an exception this time.”
He stands, moves around the table.
My heartbeat picks up as he comes closer. Then he’s there, two feet away, and I want him so much I can’t breathe.
I’m not sure what it is: love or lust or logic, but I know I need it. I really, really need it.
He offers his hand. “We have a deal.”
I shake.
When he releases me, he pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
His lips melt into mine.
My entire body melts into his. “I have a counter proposal.” I kiss him again, a little harder. “We go back to my office right now and have sex on my desk.”
“What are the terms?”
“Well.” I find some hint of sense. “I’m going to my office, and I’m taking off my dress. You can join me. Or you can stay here.”
“A shrewd negotiation.”
“Always.”
Epilogue
Deanna
Home, sweet home. Finally. The flight itself was fast. Only six hours to travel three thousand miles. But the four cancelled flights, three days of waiting for snow to clear, and an icy cab ride to the airport? That felt like four thousand years.
Right now, it’s hard to believe a blizzard wrecked the eastern seaboard. It’s hard to believe the city is only just recovering from the four feet of snow. Right now, it’s hard to believe there’s any place in the world that isn’t sunshine and blue skies.
A few years ago, it felt normal, like home. Of course it’s sunny almost every day. Of course, the sky is blue and cloudless on Christmas. Sure, it’s technically December 26, but the Xmas spirit is in the air. Dad hung the white string lights and the pine wreath. The Huntington Hills Christmas tradition. That and all the usual indoor things: hot chocolate, evergreens, presents with big red bows.
Like so many Christmases, like home. But not the way it used to feel like home. For the first time, I don’t ache with homesickness. I don’t feel overwhelmed with relief. I’m glad to be here—as happy as I’ve ever been—and I’m glad to leave in two weeks, too.
This isn’t where I belong anymore.
Right on cue, the front door swings open, and Lexi rushes outside. Even now, seven months pregnant, she’s wearing a silk slip nightgown (pink of course), and she’s the picture of California girl charisma. Well, now it’s more like California MILF perfection (her words).
She runs down the stairs and throws her arms around me.
“I missed you.” She squeezes me so tightly I can’t breathe. “I got you the best Christmas present.” She leans in to whisper in my ear. “It’s a vibrator shaped like the Empire State Building.”
“Form and function,” I say.
“Well, yeah.” She laughs. “Since you’ll never have a bachelorette.”
“I’m not even engaged,” I say. “And you’d buy me something even more perverse for a bachelorette.” Lexi doesn’t need a reason to turn the subject to sex (not in private), but she does celebrate the rare occasion the focus is more socially acceptable.
“True. Oh, I saw just the thing. River would love it.” She says it without a hint of interest in her voice.
And I don’t feel a single pang of jealousy. Not just because Lexi is head over heels in love with Jake. Not just because she relishes in tales of third-trimester horniness and her husband’s desire to fill them. He says I look even more beautiful like this. Can you believe it? I think it’s because my boobs are massive now. Not just because she’s excited about impending motherhood in a way I can’t imagine.
Because I love and trust my boyfriend and he never, and I mean never, shows interest in other women. It’s freaky, really. Like he’s above human biology. And New York City is full of beautiful, well-dressed, artistic women. New York City is full of beautiful women of every shape, size, age, and personality.
I look at them. I look at men. I look at everyone. It feels good to live somewhere with dynamic surroundings. Even if the weather is totally miserable half the year. Most of the year. There are two good weeks in fall and two in spring. The rest is…an adventure.
“I’m going to get you back one day,” I say. “Maybe I’ll buy you a sex toy for your baby shower.”
“Oh, Dee.” She laughs. “You think the women I’m inviting stopped enjoying sex toys because they’re moms?”
“No. I think they’ll be embarrassed because they live in Orange County,” I say.
“Moms are still women,” she says. “And we’re still horny. Sometimes, we’re really horny.”
“Too much information.”
“You asked for it.” She releases me a tiny bit and she launches into a long, detailed story about how she finally took Jake to her old sex spot and had her way with him. Twice.
River waits patiently at the side of our rental car. Technically, it’s his rental car. My Tesla is parked in the garage. Dad likes driving it when he’s meeting people who care about the environment.