The driver sped away from the curb, and he studied this beautiful woman sitting next to him in charged silence. Her makeup was heavier than usual, thick lashes fluttering over big blue eyes, her soft, pillowy lips beckoning to him.
“How was your weekend?” he finally managed to ask.
She turned toward him and paused before answering. “Not so great, to be honest.”
“I’m a good listener.” He offered her an ear because he was truly interested in her life.
“It’s just… I went home last night to pick up my dress. And my mother was holed up in her room, unresponsive. Completely unaware that I was even in the room. I was shattered, but my sister didn’t seem to be affected at all.” She shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Forget it. I don’t want to ruin our night by starting it on a down note.” She turned her head, glancing out the window.
“Hey. Don’t apologize or turn away. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to hear.” He lifted her hand, placing it inside his, running his thumb over her soft skin.
“Thank you. For some reason, I thought you would understand.”
He hesitated before answering, then decided fuck it. He might as well offer her something in return for her honesty.
“I get it. I don’t have a relative who suffers from depression but I … I suffer from—” He stammered and wanted to take back the initial, tentative words that now stuck in his throat painfully. Though he’d thought he’d come to terms with this part of himself, embarrassment rushed through him now.
“I know.” She squeezed his hand in hers, the silence understanding, not judgmental. “I know.” She met his gaze, her expression warm and full of acceptance.
He didn’t need to elaborate or use the word anxiety, because after only a short time in his employ, she did understand. She’d seen things firsthand. Walked in on him pulling out an anxiety medication. Remade his coffee when he couldn’t drink it for reasons no one but him would understand. Put his clothes away in his closet exactly how he’d have done it himself.
Nothing he did or said had driven her away.
Before he could formulate a reply, the car came to a stop outside the venue in the financial district downtown. Formerly the headquarters of a major bank, the facility was now a landmark building in the National Historic Register, and a lineup of black Town Cars and drivers surrounded them.
“We can talk later,” he said, although he selfishly hoped there’d be less talking and more other things before the night was through.
“Thank you.” She leaned close, treating him to an up-close-and-personal whiff of her scent, one that was new to her but with a hint of the sweetness he always associated with this woman.
And as she pressed her lips to his cheek, his cock, which he’d managed to contain, now pressed hard and insistently against his pants. Thank God his jacket would cover the tenting or he wouldn’t be able to get out of the car.
She pulled back, then giggled, the sound light and airy and perfect to break the serious moment and put them in a better mood for the night.
Reaching over, she rubbed her fingers against his cheek. “Lipstick,” she murmured.
“Cover me in it any time,” he said in return.
Her sexy lips parted in an O just as the driver opened the door, breaking into their moment.
Kade stepped out of the car, holding Lexie’s hand as she did the same. He’d never thought about how he looked arriving at an event, but with Lexie on his arm, he was damned proud to be there.
“Those ships, they’re gorgeous,” Lexie said of a large 225-foot mural covering the back wall.
“It’s spectacular,” he agreed, hoping she wouldn’t ask who painted it.
Kade didn’t bother himself with art, so he couldn’t name the creator. He only knew, from previous years at this event, the mural was always a talking piece, and clearly Lexie agreed.
No sooner had they stepped into the ballroom than people came up to Kade. The co-chairs of the event, to thank him for his substantial donation, potential investors in Blink, all people he needed to be more than polite to—when all he wanted to do was find a private corner and be alone with Lexie. He glanced her way often, worried about ignoring or, worse, boring her. But each time he looked, she was interested in the discussion he was having, talking to someone’s wife while the men talked business, or waiting patiently for the person to have their say.
She didn’t whine or complain, for which he was grateful, but she also genuinely seemed to enjoy herself, and that had been his goal for the evening. Not his only goal, he thought, using a rare moment alone to look his fill of the siren in the black-and-white dress. He couldn’t take his eyes off the whole package, but he particularly liked the shorter hem in the front that teased him with the idea of lifting the dress higher and slipping his hands up her thighs and over her damp sex.
“Wine or champagne?” a passing server asked, breaking into his thoughts just in the nick of time.
“Thank you.” Lexie accepted a glass of champagne.
Kade picked up a flute for himself and turned to face her.
“Excuse me.” A man with a camera around his neck, obviously the hired photographer for the event, interrupted them. “May I?”