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“You know that’s not true,” I point out.

She shakes her head. “Where do you want to go now?”

It’s a spot I never visit alone. I only need to say one word, and my sister will know. She always does. “There.”

Her eyes latch onto mine. With a slight quiver of her bottom lip, she tugs me even closer to her. “Let’s go.”

We walk side-by-side, headed to a place only we know. It’s the one spot in this crowded city that brings me the most comfort. Tonight, after the day I had, I need it.

Chapter 31

Roman

A two-word text from Bianca brought me to this barstool this Tuesday afternoon.

Rolly’s now?

I was powerless to refuse because I’ve been longing to see her since we said goodbye on Friday night.

She hasn’t left my mind once.

The kiss, the fuck, all of it was incredible.

I hear the door to the pub open, so I stand and turn.

I know she’s there before I spot her behind a man who just entered. Bianca’s dressed in white slacks and a navy blue blouse. Her hair is pinned up. She’s absolutely gorgeous as always.

The smile on her face widens when she spots me.

As soon as she’s near enough, I reach out a hand to her. My fucking heart is hammering inside my chest again. I’m not surprised. I’m like a kid with his first crush on a girl, except in my case, she’s a brilliant woman.

“Thank you for coming,” she says softly before she brushes her lips against mine. “I’m between meetings.”

I pushed aside an important one to come here. Chad rescheduled it for tomorrow. The client can wait. My need to see Bianca couldn’t.

I wait until she’s seated before I drop my ass back on the barstool.

Her gaze darts from my face to the glass of sparkling water in front of me. She doesn’t seem surprised that I’m not nursing my usual. Bourbon has a place and time in my life. Today, I need a clear mind, so water it is.

Rolly approaches with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Can I get a water too, please?” Bianca requests. “With two lime wedges.”

He pats her hand before he takes off.

I turn on the stool so I can face her. “Is everything all right?”

She smiles. “Work is a lot, but I’m good. I’m really good. You?”

“Better now,” I say honestly. “I was hoping to see you today, tonight, tomorrow, your pick.”

Tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, she laughs. “I wish I could pick all, but I’m busy until Thursday night.”

Fuck.

That’s two days away.

“Thursday works for me.” Even if it didn’t, I’d make it work. “Do you want to grab dinner somewhere?”

Before we go to my former residence to fuck.

I leave that out because I hope it’s implied. After the night we had, I sense she’s going to want more just as much as I do.

“I’d like to cook for you.”

I study her face. “You want to cook for me?”

She nods. “I’m a good cook. I don’t do it as often as I’d like, but I’d like to make something for us.”

“At your apartment?” I question.

“No, in the middle of Times Square on a hotplate,” she deadpans.

I huff out a laugh just as Rolly deposits her glass of water on a napkin in front of her.

“Thanks, Rolly,” she says with a genuine smile before he walks away.

I tap her forearm to draw her attention back to me. “I’d love to come to your place for dinner.”

“You’ll bring wine and condoms?”

I look to where Rolly is standing, but he doesn’t react.

Bianca leans closer. “I haven’t picked up any condoms recently, and I didn’t recognize the brand you had the other night, so I thought you might want to bring your own.”

I fucking love the fact that she’s this comfortable talking about sex with me. “I can handle that.”

She drags her tongue over her bottom lip after swallowing a mouthful of water. “Good. I’ll text you my address.”

I reach for her hand to cover it with mine. “I’m honored that you want me in your home, Bianca.”

Staring into my eyes, she sighs. “I like hanging out with you. Cooking dinner feels like it’ll be fun. I’ll put you to work chopping something. I saw you in the kitchen at Lise. Were you doing some prep work?”

Hell, no. I was downing a glass of wine to calm my goddamn nerves.

“I can chop a carrot,” I admit. “You won’t believe how well I scramble eggs.”

My culinary skills reach far beyond the basics, but that’s a discussion for another time.

“Carrots and eggs?” Her nose scrunches. “If you’re preparing those at the same time, having Annalise handle the chef duties at the bistro was the right call.”

I bite my bottom lip. “That sounded like an insult.”

She leans closer, her eyes trained to my mouth. “It was an observation.”


Tags: Deborah Bladon The Hawthornes of New York Romance