Page 76 of Head Over Heels

"You know I've seen all of that, right?" she says, gesturing to the cover.

"The other day…" I swallow, looking at her. "I asked Tilly if she would get me off. I was confused about my feelings, and I know she used to do it for Renna."

She blinks. "Mel's fiancée?"

I nod. "She told me she wouldn't fuck me just so I could avoid my feelings for you—I should go fuck you instead, but…" I look down at my hands. "I'm sorry."

She laughs. "I don't know her that well, but that sounds exactly like something she would say."

31

Florence

When Josie opens her door, she's dressed to the nines in a dark charcoal suit, her blonde hair pulled back from her face. She's wearing a simple, elegant silver chain around her neck.

It takes me a minute to find my voice.

"Wow."

She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching up. "Is that a good wow—or a bad wow?"

Before Josie, I never thought about how a woman would look in a tux custom-made for her body. "You look…" I search for the right word. "Ravishing."

She breaks into a grin. "Perfect. Then maybe I'll be able to keep up with you for one night." Her eyes find the curve of my neck, and she licks her lip. "You look stunning." She doesn't even look at my champagne-colored dress with the slit clear up the thigh.

She takes my arm and pulls me down the hall. "Let's go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can come home and I can eat you."

Once we're in the elevator, thankfully alone, I turn to her. "This place is important to me, Josie," I say quietly. She has no idea how much Nook and Nectar mean to me.

Her brow furrows in surprise. "Okay. Show me this special place of yours." She takes my face in her hands and steps closer to me. "Can I kiss you?"

I brush my lips against hers, inhaling her. "Don't get me started," I say, smiling against her hungry mouth. I reluctantly pull away from her as we reach the ground floor.

This woman makes me want to share even the most intimate parts of my life with her. I've never shared the Nook and Nectar with anyone.

She slides her fingers between mine as we head for my car. "Will you tell me why this place is so special to you?"

"I will," I say mysteriously. "Don't tell anyone about it, though. Marin and Hettie don't even know."

We climb into the car. "Are you serious?" she asks after a few minutes. "No one else knows?" She places her hand on my thigh, teasing my bare skin under the hem of my dress.

"No one else knows." I take her hand off my bare thigh. "Don't get me started," I repeat, my center tightening at her touch. I don't know how much of what she feels is just physical and how much of it is more than that, but the way she made love to me Sunday night wasnotjust physical. You don't worship at an altar that means nothing to you. Not for nine hours.

We pull into the parking lot, and I take her hand, leading her to the Book Nook.

"Why are we going to the bookstore?" she asks, laughing at my eagerness.

I squeeze her hand and my heart flutters.I'm really doing this. I'm really sharing this part of my life with her."You'll see," I tease. I open the door and motion her in.

At the counter, Shelby nods to me with a knowing smile, and I have to fight back my own grin.

As we wind our way to the back of the stacks, she clasps my hand. "Are you nervous about this?" she asks gently.

Yes."A little. Like I said, this is a special place to me." No one can understand how important this place has been to me during hard times. Matthew is standing near the door to the back room, his hands clasped behind his back. "Through here," I tell Josie, opening the door.

Once in the back room, I pull open the back door to Nectar, clutching her hand. The rush of the familiar, the subtle aroma of aged wines, embraces me. The weight of what I'm about to do presses on me as I breathe it in. I'm actually doing this, sharing my private space with her. "This way." I manage, my throat tight.

Becca Guzman, one of the establishment's three sommeliers, approaches us, and she greets me with a familiar smile. "This way, Florence," she motions toward the private room near the back, a space normally reserved only for the wealthiest of our patrons. Stepping through the doorway, the atmosphere shifts immediately. The lighting softens, and the faint notes of classical music float through the air. "You brought company this evening," she notes, meeting my gaze.

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