Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,37

were gone.

He looked down at me, grinning like a boy, his arms still around me. Mine had come unhooked when he set me down, though we were so close, my hands rested on his chest with nowhere else to go.

“We leave today for Vegas. I’ll have Theo—”

I froze, locked to the ground. “Today?”

A sheepish look passed over his face and hung there. “Today. I promised Steven I’d commit to a plan tomorrow, and we’ve got to get started on the story as soon as possible. Plus, we’ve got to get contracts drawn up and signed before you tell anyone about this.”

I swallowed. “Not my parents? Not my friends?”

He shook his head. “Not until we get the details sorted. We can’t risk the truth leaking, not now. Not until we’ve established the story. Otherwise, it’s all for naught.”

I sat heavily on the couch. “Oh. Okay.”

He knelt down and took my hands in his again, pausing for a long moment. “Amelia, are you sure you want to do this?”

My smile was genuine, as overwhelmed as I was. “I’m sure. Sure as I can be,” I amended on a laugh.

His sigh was both audible and relieved. “Okay. I’ll have Theo grab us first-class tickets for the next flight out.”

“Oh, if you want, we can take the jet.”

He stilled. “The jet?”

My cheeks flamed. “W-well, yes. We have a jet at Newark so I can fly home to see my parents whenever I want. We can take that. I just have to give James a two-hour lead.”

He paused, still processing. “You are too good for me in all ways, Amelia Hall.”

I laughed, unable to speak. Me. Too good for Thomas Bane.

I’d officially stepped into the twilight zone.

Tommy folded me into his arms, laughing as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head, his joy thoughtless and wild. God, him and those lips. I ignored the fleeting thought that I should be concerned with those lips in a more real way.

“Theo will have our room set up, the chapel booked, and the media alerted. I’ll have a crew there to get you ready for the ceremony, dresses to choose from, just need to know your measurements.”

I tried to take a breath and couldn’t, only in part because of his arms as they squeezed me like a balloon string in a strong wind.

“I…I hope I can do this,” I said.

He leaned back to look at me, cupped my face in his hands, smiled with more relief and joy than I could ever describe. But I felt it in my marrow.

“You can do this, Amelia. I’ll hold your hand every step of the way. All you have to do is smile and wave and put up with me. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I nodded, swallowed, and smiled. Because like a fool, I believed him completely.

With my agreement, he wrapped me up again, squeezed me somehow tighter than he had yet. And with his cheek resting on my crown, he whispered words that settled into my heart, maybe forever.

“Thank you.”

Sky High

Tommy

“Oh my God, there’s a bedroom.”

It was maybe the closest to a squeal as I’d ever gotten. I couldn’t help it. As I bounced through the fuselage of the Egglette jet, I had no chill. None. Zero.

Amelia watched on, amused.

I bounded into the bedroom with my eyes bugging and a grin splitting my face. The room was narrow but with comfortable space around the bed and nightstands. Everything was the color of champagne. I plopped down on the foot of the mattress and bounced as if to test its durability.

I waggled my brows at her. “Seems sturdy.”

Her cheeks flushed as she laughed, eyes rolling. “You are so ridiculous.”

I flopped flat on my back, arms out like I was going to make a snow angel. “I have always wanted one of these.”

“How come you’ve never gotten one?”

“I’m rich, but I’m not private jet rich.” I sat, my gaze sweeping over the room. I resisted the urge to open and close the blackout blinds. “I mean, technically, I could afford it, but I don’t want to be jet-poor.”

She chuckled.

“I’m more interested in investing. Planning for the future, which, as you can see, is tenuous and largely out of my control.”

“I’m not saying that guy didn’t have it coming, but I don’t know if I’d say that was out of your control.”

“You’re not wrong. You’re good at being not-wrong.”

“You mean I’m right.” She smiled sideways at me.

“If you say so.” I bounced on the mattress again a couple times