Only One Touch (Only One #4) - Natasha Madison Page 0,19

her as she puts her seat belt on.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” I ask, and she rolls her lips and nods her head.

“You have no idea,” she says and turns to me. “Are you going to give me a hint?”

“Okay,” I say, pulling away from her building. “Originally, I was going to fly us to New York.” She gasps in shock.

“I was kidding about having pizza in Italy,” she says. “Okay, fine, I wasn’t but New York?”

“Yeah, if it was earlier, we could have done it, but it’s almost seven, so we wouldn’t get there until ten, which is eleven with the time change.”

“You’re serious?” She turns and puts her back to the door. “You were going to take me to New York at the drop of a hat.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I figured I owed you a lot more than that.” I look over at her, and I wonder if I kiss the shit out of her would her lips still shine like they do now. Putting the SUV in the park, I look over at her. “Until I can do more, this will have to do,” I say, reaching for the door and opening it. I walk around the SUV, seeing her leg come out. Her red bottom shoes suddenly make me think of sex. It’s all fucking Lizzie’s fault. She stands and turns to shut the door. I can’t even tell if she’s wearing underwear under those white pants.

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around.

“This might not be Italy,” I say, grabbing her hand. Our fingers intertwine with ease. Neither of us says anything else as we look down at our hands locked together.

The restaurant lights shine, and I look around and don’t see any empty tables outside for us to eat at. I open the door to the restaurant with my free hand and hold it open for her to walk through with me following. Her hand remains in mine like neither of us wants to let go.

“For two, please,” she tells the hostess, who looks at me and then back at her. We follow the hostess through the crowded restaurant to a table in front of the big red wood-burning oven.

Slipping my hand out of hers, I pull out a chair for her. She sets her purse in the chair next to hers before she sits down. I shrug out of my jacket, and I see her looking over at me. “It’s casual day,” I say, tossing my jacket on the chair beside me. Instead of sitting in front of her, I decided to sit beside her.

“I’ve never seen you in anything but a suit,” she says to me as the waitress comes over and hands us the menus. Becca smiles at the waitress and orders herself a white wine and looks over at me.

“A bottle of San Pellegrino,” I say, and she nods, walking away. “I’ve never seen you dressed casually.”

She looks up from the menu. “Hello.” She points at herself. “This is casual.”

“You’re wearing heels,” I point out.

“I was watching Jaxon all day long,” she says, and I look at her, shocked. “Manning needed someone to watch Jaxon while he ran all his errands.”

“Wait, I don’t understand,” I say, putting my menu down and looking at her. “What was your role in all of this?”

She sets her menu down, smiling at the waitress who brings her glass of wine. “We’ll need a minute,” Becca tells her, and she nods her head, walking away. She takes a sip of wine, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Manning is my client,” she tells me, looking down at her fingers as she plays with the stem of the wineglass, “but he’s also my friend.” I don’t interrupt her. “So I did what I needed to do in order to protect him.”

“Which means what exactly?” It’s me tapping my finger on the table this time as I wait for her to answer.

“I was the one who hired the private investigator. I was the one who got him the house. I was the one who got his mother here.”

“You were the one who did all that?” I look at her, shocked, but I don’t know why I am. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Yes,” she says, smirking. She picks up her glass of wine and takes another sip. “I can’t give up control.”

I laugh, and right before I’m about to say something, she shocks me even more. “I don’t know why,” she says, setting the glass back down, “but