Page 43 of The Fake Husband Play
“I love a blues club,” I breathe. “I haven’t been to one in years, but…yeah. I love them.”
“Me, too,” he says. “I used to sing with a band back in the day. Just amateur stuff, for fun, but I miss being part of the music.”
“That’s so cool. I used to sing with a jazz group in high school!” I say, blood fizzing in my veins as myinner fangirl freaks out about her hockey crush also being a music nerd.
“Then we have to go,” he says, catching my excitement. “Friday night? I can call the nanny service my brother used the last time he was in town, or?—”
“I’ll ask Nancy first, but if she can’t make it, that sounds fine,” I say. “Assuming they’re okay with Mimi’s health issues and are ready to take action if anything happens. I mean, fingers crossed, it won’t—she’s bounced back really well from the little flare she had this time—but I’d want to be sure she’s one hundred percent safe.”
“Same,” he agrees with a nod. “Her safety and well-being come first. Always. We’re on the same page about that,chère, I promise you.”
“I think we’re on the same page about a lot of things,” I murmur, before biting my bottom lip to keep myself from saying something even more obvious. Something that will make my crush as clear as the dazzling skyline in front of us.
“Me, too.” His tone takes on a teasing edge as he adds, “So, I’m guessing you won’t mind that I got you and Mimi seats for the opening game? I didn’t want to assume, but?—”
“Assume!” I cut in, bolting upright in my lounger so fast my beer nearly sloshes over the edge. “Please, assume. Always assume,” I add, laughing as I set the bottle down beside me on the ground so I can clap my hands. “Oh my God, I’m so excited, I’m shaking! I wanted to go so bad, but the tickets were all sold out or crazy expensive. Mimi’s going to be over the moon, Grammercy. Seriously. Thank you! Thank you so much.”
Before I realize what I’m doing, my arms are around his neck, hugging him tight.
It’s a grateful hug, nothing more, but…
But then he’s hugging me back, and suddenly I’m aware of every place we touch. Aware of the solid warmth of his chest against mine, of the way his arms wrap around my waist, strong but careful, like he isn’t sure how to touch me right now.
This isn’t a fake wedding ceremony in front of a judge and a witness.
This is real.
Just us.
Alone, with nothing but the warm night air and the smell of Grammercy rising all around me.
God, he smells like heaven fresh from a shower, all soap and shampoo and the intimate scent of his skin, his pheromones, his…Grammercy-ness. I can’t describe it as accurately as I want to. All I know is that he is the best, sexiest, most delicious thing I’ve ever smelled.
I want to breathe him into my bone marrow.
But obviously, I can’t. I should pull back.
Now. Ten seconds ago, in fact.
Unfortunately, my body has other ideas…
Before I know it, I’m melting into him, my breasts molding against his muscled chest as my fingertips curl into his shoulders and my nose drags lightly up his neck to the base of his ear. My skin is suddenly on fire, every nerve blazing.
His fingers splay across the small of my back, drawing me even closer as things low in my body tighten.
Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have his hands…everywhere.
Desire spreads through me like honey going liquid in the sun, slow and golden and delicious. I haven’t wanted anyone like this in so long, I’d forgotten what it felt like. The sweet ache of it. The way it rises with a roar, drowning out the whispers of common sense.
Common sense can’t hold a candle to the longing that throbs through me as we shift, and his cheek brushes mine.
If I turn my head just a fraction of an inch, our lips would touch. I could be kissing my husband again—for real, this time—in just a few seconds. All I have to do is be brave enough to risk it all.
The thought makes me dizzy.
Or maybe that’s the lack of oxygen reaching my synapses, because I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing.
“I should head to bed,” he finally says, his voice rougher than usual. He pulls back, giving us both a beat to steady ourselves before adding with a tight smile, “Big day tomorrow. Early practice and press in the afternoon. Gotta get my beauty sleep.”
