beneath my back. Carefree. In love. Loved.
“Vaughn?” Ryker’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I take the flowers from his outstretched hand. Not wanting him to see the flush in my cheeks, I bury my nose in them and breathe in the sweet scent. The flowers are so simple from a man who can afford the world, and I love that they are. “How was your shift?”
“It was long, but good.”
“What made it a good night?” He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek for a few seconds more. “Good tips?”
“No.”
“Good customers?”
“No.”
“Then what?” he asks, that smile turning curious and his head angling to the side to emphasize the question.
I give in to the temptation to just accept that he’s here and I’m glad that he is.
“You being here.”
He stares at me for the briefest of seconds, and this time when he reaches out, he cups both of my cheeks and lowers his lips to brush against mine. Every part of me sags at the tenderness in the simple kiss—so brief, but packed with so much emotion.
“That’s a good answer.”
I lean back and look at him. The brandy color of his eyes. The mussed hair. The rough cut of his jaw with a day’s worth of shadow dusting it. “Why are you here?”
“Because I missed you,” he murmurs, and for the first time, I almost feel like we can do this. Like we can face whatever is out there together and make this work.
“So you stayed up late to walk me to my car?”
“If that’s what you want me to do, then yes . . . or”—he lifts his chin over his shoulder—“we can go for a drive.”
“To where? It’s two in the morning.” I laugh.
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. His smile is lopsided and hopeful. “I know I’m supposed to give you space. I know I told you to take your time . . . but dammit, Vaughn, I missed you and wanted to see you.”
Swoon.
“I missed you too.” Our gazes hold, and all I can do is shake my head ever so subtly to tell him I’m not sure what to do but I’m glad he’s here right now.
“I think we should go out.”
“Right now?” I sputter a laugh.
“We’re in the city that never sleeps for a reason.” He shrugs like a little boy. “Why not?”
I think of my aching feet and how bone tired I am, but when he smiles, I already know that I’ll go.
“I don’t think we’ve ever been on a proper date.”
“You’re crazy.” I laugh and press my lips to his.
“I know.”
He starts to head toward his car, his fingers tangled with mine, and when I don’t walk with him so that our hands stretch between us, he turns back to stare at me.
“What?” he asks.
I take him in—everything about him—and just smile as I warm from head to toe. “Nothing.”
The city may never sleep, but the streets are quieting down as we hum through the concrete jungle in silence. Ryker’s fingers are laced in mine, both our hands resting on my thigh as the gentle purr of the Maserati’s motor hums around us.
“You know, most dates start before everyone is asleep,” I tease as I look down at the bag in my lap. Curiosity has me wondering why he brought me a pair of shoes and a sweatshirt.
“Everything about us is far from normal, so why would we want to ruin it now?” He flashes me a smile before veering to the curb and parking. “Your feet good?”
“I’m beginning to be concerned that you brought me shoes. Please tell me we’re not hiking anywhere.”
“While I very much like the heels, I thought you might like to get out of them. And hiking? In Manhattan?” He rolls his eyes. “Nah. Maybe a little breaking and entering, though.”
“What?” I ask as he climbs out of the car and shuts the door with a thud, leaving me to figure out if he’s serious or not. When he opens the passenger-side door, I ask, “What do you mean, a little breaking and entering?”
He shuts the door behind me and then steps into me so that my back presses against it.
“Ryker?”
“Shh.” He puts a finger to my lips, and I can’t help but press a kiss to it. A ghost of a smile paints his lips in reaction as he takes my hands in his and then looks back up. “You and I