Delaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...
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We get back to the hotel, and after I change into a t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, I tell her to put on something comfortable and meet me by the elevator at the end of the hallway. As much as I don't want her to take that dress off, she won't be comfortable doing what I have planned in anything other than loungewear.
I grab the blanket from the foot of the bed as she slips into the bathroom, make sure I have our room key and begin to make my way to the private elevator at the end of the hall. Since the day I decided to book this hotel for us and saw that they have a private, rooftop veranda, I knew I had to show her. While she was at the spa I called down to the front desk, asking if we could possibly have the space to ourselves for an hour or two, and I was shocked when they agreed without asking me to put any money down.
Delaney has always loved stuff like this, and I can't wait for her to see it.
After about five minutes, the door to our room opens and she steps into the hall. Her hair is still down but the curls have been brushed out, and her face has been washed and is clear of make-up, exposing her freckles and the adorable beauty mark on her cheek I've always loved. She's wearing a white, long-sleeved top that's hanging loosely off one shoulder, and mint-green knit pajama shorts that are so short her asscheeks are almost showing. I try to keep my eyes on her face, but everything about her – from the top of her golden blonde head to the tips of her white toes – is so stunningly beautiful that I couldn't keep my eyes from perusing the entirety of her body even if I wanted to.
I am so in love with this girl. Everything about her – Her smile and her laugh. Her bright mind. Her incredible body and her kind soul. Her warm heart – I'm so deeply in love with, and if I don't get the chance to tell her soon, I might explode.
"Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
"Come on!" she whines, wrapping her warm hands around my forearm and bouncing on her toes. "Please tell me."
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. And then I'd have to go to the ESPYS alone and explain to your family why you didn't come home with me, and that would just be a mess. So, it's probably best if you wait the thirty seconds it's going to take to reach our destination so I don't have to go through all that."
"Fine. But I think you should know you're gonna create a monster if you keep spoiling me like this. A girl can only receive so many surprises before she gets used to it and decides to stick around for good."
I wrap my arm around her back, resting my hand in the curve of her narrow waist and pull her against me. "Maybe that's been my intention all along."
She wraps her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my chest as she looks up at me. Her eyes drop to my lips then meet my eyes before they drop to my lips again. Her mouth parts and the tip of her tongue slips out, slowly wetting her lips, and the moisture it leaves behind draws me in, causing me to tighten my arm around her and dig my fingers into her side. I've been on my best behavior all day – having to talk myself out of touching any part of her that isn't her hand or her back practically every five minutes – but the way she's looking at me right now tells me she doesn't want me to hold back. I know that look. I have that look seared in my memory. She wants me to kiss her, and what kind of man would I be to deprive her what she wants? I lean toward her as she rises to her toes, and we're so close I can feel her whiskey-scented breath on my lips, but just as they're about to touch, the elevator doors open and she looks away, her eyes focusing on the scene in front of us.
