Page 145 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

My heart hurts to see this usually strong woman fighting an embarrassment she should never bear. I want to protect her, to help her, to do something to make this better. Wrapping my arm around her, I hold her close and kiss her head. “Sure, you do. Whatever happens, you have me. You don’t have to fight this alone. We’re all here for you.”

She leans up enough to look at me with a soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are wide with the same hope tingeing her tone when she says, “I’ve been sheltered and taken care of for my whole life. Where did that get me?”

She’s always been daddy’s little princess. He even called her as much when he was paying for her every whim, but to hear her say it is new. She still deserves some credit where it’s due. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You’re following your dream. You work in a gallery, just like you always talked about, and you work hard.”

“I work in a gallery but can’t afford my bills.” She looks down as she rests the palm of her hand on her leg. “My dreams won’t pay for my lifestyle, and I willingly let that happen.”

I’ve never seen this side of her, her vulnerability palpable in the back of this cab. I didn’t know it was this bad. She’s not one to show weakness, so I’m not sure what to think other than Marlow deserves better than how her family has left her. “Your dad fucked up.”

“Yes, he did. He lied to me and everyone else, including the bank. But I picked an apartment that most people in the city can’t afford, choosing to feed an ego instead of dealing with reality. I had no idea he was headed for bankruptcy. That he lied to me when he was responsible for paying my bills was wrong on every level. But at the end of the day, I got myself into this mess by thinking my dad would always be there for me.” She sits back. “It doesn’t matter how I got here. I’m never going to let something like this happen to me again. Never.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Enjoy New Year’s Eve with you.” She pushes up on her hand and kisses under my jaw, my body coming back to life.

The familiar surroundings have me ready to pay so I can get her upstairs. Hanging out in cabs for longer than necessary isn’t what I call entertainment, not when I’m with a beautiful woman.Especially when I’m with Marlow.I lift her chin so her eyes stay fixed on me. “You’re never alone. Got that?”

A grin grows, but she restrains it before it gives too much away. “Got it,” she says like the sly devil himself replied.

The cab pulls to the curb, giving me a reprieve from this heavy conversation. We head inside like we’ve done many times. It’s not been hundreds, but it’s been enough for the doorman to remember her.How could he not?She’s unforgettable. He tips his hat. “Evening, Ms. Marché. Mr. St. James.”

“Happy New Year, Paul,” Marlow and I say in unison. The sound of her heels against the marble floors trails along with us. I reach my hand out, and she takes hold, clasping mine without a glance ever exchanged. We work on instinct and the gravitational pull that keeps bringing us together.

It’s a pull I don’t want to fight anymore.

I wonder how she feels?

We ride the elevator in silence, but a tension builds while our eyes are fixed on each other’s in the reflection of the mirrored door. She drags the tips of her fingers across her collarbone and then bites her lip. Her chest rises and falls with each breath.

Fuck.

She’s so fucking gorgeous I’m tempted to take her right here. Too bad our every move is being filmed in this elevator. I appreciate the security all other times.

Gripping the railing behind me with my other hand to keep myself from pulling her in for another kiss to that lip she’s currently biting, I will the elevator to move faster.

It’s the first time her eyes leave mine. She whispers, “I’ve been thinking,” and looks at her shoes.

“What have you been thinking?” It’s then that I notice she’s holding the railing behind her like I am. I loosen my grip, stretching my fingers.

Just when her gaze rises, the elevator stops, and the door slides open.

I glance at her at the same moment as she looks at me. She leaves me trying to read her mind when all I want to do is kiss her again. I hold my hand out, and as soon as she takes it, we boltdown the hall together as if we’ll find any answer we need down here.

I have my keys out and am unlocking my door as soon as we reach it.

We both take a breath, but doors and keys, hallways, or even privacy don’t matter at this point. The buildup consumes us quicker than a breath can be exhaled. She’s against me, her lips on mine, causing my back to hit the wood door with a thud.

I take her in my arms and lift her, pivoting inside the apartment. With our lips locked, this kiss feels better and more intense when there’s a different intention in mind. Sure, I want to fuck her, but I also can’t wait to take her out on a date.

Kicking the door closed, I set her down and am quick to lock the bolt. But then I stop. Through heavy breaths, I cup her face, and ask, “I want to know what you’re thinking. I always want to know what’s on your mind, Marlow.”

Her breathing is jagged, and her lashes flutter as she looks up at me. “You do?”

“I do.”

“I was thinking,” she starts but then pauses. Staring into my eyes, she’s consumed by emotion, the storm turning her brighter blues cloudy and gray. “I have so much on my mind, but I don’t want to think about anything else.” Her arms tighten around my neck, and she places a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Just kiss me and make it all go away. Okay?”

She always wears a brave face, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s just for show. Cupping her cheek and then running my fingers into her hair, I whisper, “You can always talk to me. You know that, right?”

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