Page 19 of Manhattan Heart

“You know how hard that smart mouth of yours makes me. I’m about to put you on your knees.”

Hell yes. I about bounce on his lap, until he kisses the tip of my nose and sets me on my feet. The hell? I frown as he kisses me again then strides over to hook up his leather jacket. “Will you come somewhere with me, baby?”

“Are we going to fuck?”

He laughs at my bluntness.

There’s no need for a filter around him and honestly, I don’t have a filter in me. Lucky for me, Gray loves every coarse inch of me.

“We will, I promise. I want to take you somewhere first. We won’t be long.”

“Where to?”

“You’ll see.” His hand comes out for mine and I take it. He locks our fingers together, Heat on heat.

“Josiah, do you know where this husband of mine is taking me?” I ask of his driver once we’re inside the car and in traffic. It’s rare we use the driver at night so already he has me wondering where he hell we’re going.

I see his smile through the mirror. “That I don’t.”

I think Joe is lying too, that rascal.

“You’re being mysterious as hell,” I tell Gray.

To which he lifts my hand and kisses over the knuckles.

We drive for maybe forty minutes. He gives me absolutely no clues whatsoever but he does pull snacks out for me and I nibble on salted cashew nuts and a cereal bar until we arrive at a private estate just outside of Manhattan. We pull through the gated mansion and a butler no less opens the damn door.

This is Gray’s world, where he knows people who have honest to god butlers, whereas I grew up not knowing if one week to the next we would have our power cut off.

All becomes clear when we meet the owner of the house.

She’s an older lady, maybe in her late sixties, though she looks no older than forty and dresses stylishly in jeans and a gypsy off the shoulder shirt. I like her right away when she tells me how lucky I am to have a ‘hot piece’ like Gray. He blushes at her compliment and greets her with a kiss to her cheek after introducing me. She leads us through to a huge glass conservatory overlooking an equally large backyard, big enough for two football fields.

But it’s not the garden that holds my attention.

It’s the doggy bed off in one corner with two of the fattest, most gorgeous Yorkie puppies I’ve ever seen, fast asleep.

“Choose one, baby-girl.” Gray says, standing with his hands tucked casually in his dark gray pants pockets.

I blink. “What? We’re getting a puppy?”

He smiles. “You said you wanted one.”

“But I didn’t think you wanted a dog. Not with us moving soon.”

He comes up to me and presses his lips to my forehead. “Cynthia has been holding them for you to choose.”

The people he knows. From musicians, Saudi shoe makers and old lady dog breeders. I beam a grin and drop to my knees to stroke first one fat puppy then the other. They’re both adorable little boys. The moment I touch them, they wake and start yipping for attention in that cute puppy way by stumbling over my lap, trying to climb me.

Look, I’m not a kid person, that’s pretty obvious.

But I’ll happily have a house full of fat puppies.

But the more time I spend on the floor with my husband hovering over me, getting to know each puppy, letting them snuggle and burrow and climb all over me. It’s pretty evident which to choose.

I’m instantly smitten

I look up at Gray.

---