Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,50

them, and the tension melted from my back and shoulders. The sting of my scrapes forgotten, all I could feel were Cox’s lips on mine. His mouth moving, caressing. The slow sweep of his tongue. His hand resting on my thigh, his grip tightening.

I parted my lips and his tongue brushed mine. Tingles raced down my spine and my insides turned to liquid. He was dangerously good at this. Warmth bloomed between my legs as he took the kiss deeper, delving his tongue into my mouth.

This wasn’t kissing it better. This was just kissing.

Deep, passionate kissing.

And god it felt good.

We slowly separated and my eyes fluttered open. I was dazed—dizzy, even. It was a good thing I wasn’t standing because I probably would have fallen on my face again.

Cox licked his lips and something about the way he did that, like he was savoring the taste of me, was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

“Better?” he asked.

All I could do was nod slowly. I’d been struck stupid by Cox’s kiss.

The corner of his mouth lifted again and he regarded me for a few seconds, like maybe he was trying to decide what to do next. Although he was so hard to read, I couldn’t be sure.

“Goddamn, sugar, I wish I could remember more of what happened in Vegas. Because I tell you, I feel like I kissed you and it was something special.”

It was my turn to lick my lips. I could still feel his—feel our mouths tangling. Memories from Vegas mixed with his kiss today, but I knew he was right. He had kissed me like that in Vegas, and it had been something special.

Something amazing.

“I think you did. And it was.”

“Then I’m glad I got to do it again. Sober, this time.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Me too.”

He fingered one of my curls. “Do you feel up to getting something to eat?”

“How bad does my chin look?”

He didn’t even have to answer. I could tell by the slight wince he tried to hide that it was obvious I’d fallen on my face. Literally. “It’s… not too bad.”

I twisted in my seat and flipped down the visor to check in the mirror. Yep, there was a distinct red scrape right on the tip of my chin. The kind of thing you’d see on a three-year-old on the playground. I groaned.

“You know what? I have an idea.” He shut my door, then went around to the driver’s side and got in.

“What’s your idea?”

He pulled out his phone and started typing, then glanced at me with a wink. “You’ll see.”

You’ll see? I wasn’t sure what Cox had in store, but despite my stinging chin, I was excited to find out.

18

Sophie

Cox finished texting and put down his phone, then started the car and pulled out onto the street. “We’ll take the scenic route to give Oliver a little time.”

“Time for what?”

He didn’t answer. Just grinned at me.

“Wait, it’s a Saturday. You’re making poor Oliver work on a weekend?”

“I take very good care of him. He doesn’t mind.”

That seemed to be a theme with Cox. He’d wanted to make something of himself so he could take care of his mother. J.J. the limo driver had said Cox paid so well, he didn’t mind waiting there all night. And it seemed he generously compensated his assistant, too. It was certainly an admirable quality.

Chewing on the inside of my lip, I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. Childhood pigtail pulling aside, I was starting to like him. Really like him.

And that worried me. I didn’t want to get sucked into something I’d regret later.

Although maybe it was already too late.

We drove around for a little while, eventually winding up downtown, at Cox’s building.

“We’re going to your office?” I asked.

“Not exactly. Trust me.”

He parked in the garage and we took the elevator to his floor. Oliver was waiting in the lobby with a big bundle in his arms and two large brown bags on the floor at his feet.

“Good man,” Cox said as he stepped off the elevator.

I followed him out and smiled. “Hi, Oliver.”

“Pleasure to see you, darling.” He handed Cox the bundle. “I got everything you said you needed. Utensils are at the bottom.”

“Excellent.”

“Can I help with anything?” I asked.

Cox picked up one of the brown bags by the handles. “Why don’t you grab the other one?”

Oliver handed me the bag. Something smelled delicious.

“Need anything else?” Oliver asked.

“No, I think we’re set,” Cox said. “I’ll let you go get ready for