Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,67
anticipation. The move fills me with a sort of caveman satisfaction. But nothing is as satisfying as staring into her eyes as I slide into her. Or when I move slowly in and out, letting the heat build again. Then she’s moaning and panting and lifting her hips against me. And when I brush a hand over the space between us and she breaks apart in my arms, forcing me over the edge of the cliff I’ve been teetering on, I’m convinced. Heaven is here.
Completely sated and spent, she collapses on my chest. I wait until her breathing evens out and slows as sleep claims her, which doesn’t take long. I extract myself carefully and make my way to her bathroom to clean up. When I get back to the bed, she’s still out. I roll onto the mattress and gently curve around her, following into the warm cocoon of sleep.
I awaken to traffic noises, honking, breaks screeching, and men yelling. Blinking against brightness, I take in my surroundings. Her room is a mess. Clothing, books, magazines, and makeup strewn haphazardly around the small space, but her bed is comfortable, and her blankets are a tangle of bright colors. It’s just like her.
The last thing I want to do is leave the haven of Scarlett’s bed, especially when I disentangle myself from her soft, sweet limbs and she makes a cute snuffling sound and rolls over, the sheet lowering to expose her back. Just above her butt, two little dimples wink at me in invitation.
I want nothing more than to spend hours watching her sleep—the soft curve of her cheek, the delicate part of her lips, her dark red hair spread out like a wave over the pillow—but duty calls.
I get dressed as silently as possible and leave her a note on the kitchen counter before locking up and tapping my phone for an Uber as I head down the stairs.
Then I make a call. “Carson. Have someone deliver a three pack of the chocolate croissants and an Americano with cream and sugar to this address.” I rattle off. “Apartment 309. Make sure they deliver it by eight.”
A beat of silence and then, “Is that Scarlett’s apartment?”
“None of your business.”
“You know I’ll find out.”
“Then why bother asking? I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
I hang up on him, a smile tugging at my lips. I think I have the inklings of a solution to Scarlett keeping her spot. I kind of like having her across the street and in close proximity. Maybe I could get some blinds for my office so we could…. I shake the thought away before I devolve into a Neanderthal.
One thing at a time. The first item on my agenda is taking my ideas and formulating an actual plan on paper. Something I can show Oliver to get him on board.
He doesn’t like change. I know it will be a hard sell, but hope fills me with purpose.
This has to work.
I get home in time to see the girls before they head off to school. Ava makes us scrambled eggs and toast which is about the limit of her culinary abilities. We eat at the table together and I get a text from Scarlett to thank me for the croissants and coffee accompanied by lots of heart eye emojis that make me grin like a loon.
Then Emma reaches out to try and flip my lip with a finger and I laugh and dodge her attempts at physical comedy.
I walk the girls out to their ride to school. Most of the time I drive them, but I don’t have time this morning, so I called up one of my drivers.
As we’re hugging goodbye, Emma pats me on the cheek and holds up her phone.
It’s a video of me, earlier, smiling at Scarlett’s text, my eyes are bright, and I have…is that a dimple? I’m so happy. Surprised, I meet Emma’s eyes, but she’s already turned away, getting into the car with her sister’s help.
I watch the car drive away and shake my head. That kid.
It’s time to get to work.
“Carson. My office, now. Bring your laptop,” I tell him as I’m walking past his desk and into the office.
We spend over an hour, hashing out the idea, bouncing ideas around. Finally, we have something in place that might work.
“We need to contact Roger right away. I bet Crawford and Company will take this deal. You’ll just need to talk to Bethany Connell and explain things.”