Page 115 of Falling into Place
He swayed toward her, brows pinched as if he was in pain or didn’t quite believe it. His lips parted. “You do?”
She reached up and wrapped one hand gently around his neck. “I love you in a way I didn’t know was even possible. So much that I told Benjamin it could never work with him, even when I didn’t know if you’d ever come back to me. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Or me, for that matter.” Oh God, she was about to cry. “I used to think playing it safe in every single part of my life—career, finances, relationships—was the key to happiness for me. But now I know it’s not. Happiness is making fools of ourselves at trivia and guessing which couples at the bar are on a first date. It’s teasing you about your sense of style and getting turned on watching you get dressed. It’s being in awe of your intelligence when I hear you on the phone with the hospital, and seeing that look in your eye when I wear those earrings you love. It’s your secret smile and knowing I’m the one who put it there. It’s the way my heart leaps every time my phone rings and it’s you. No one else has ever brought me the kind of joy that you do, Brooks Martin. And all I want is to do the same for you.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “God, I adore you,” he whispered, and seconds later his mouth was on hers, kissing her softly, reverently. Whispering between touches, pressing words of love into her skin and her soul. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. Are you sureabout this? About me? No, forget I said that. I’m not questioning it.” And he kissed her again, long and deep and thorough.
A wave of dizziness flowed through her, the exhilaration of the moment almost too much to bear. “I’m sure,” she breathed, pushing him back against the cushions and climbing onto his lap.
He ran his hands up her thighs and gripped her hips, pulling her closer as he leaned up to catch her lips. When she ran her fingernails through his thick hair and along his scalp, he groaned, a low rumble straight from his chest.
“You’re killing me,” he rasped, grinding into her and forcing a sharp exhale from her lungs. She slid her hands underneath his shirt, greedy for as much of his warm skin as possible, and went back to his mouth. When she arched into him and attempted to tug his shirt over his head, he put a firm hand on her spine and rotated, flipping her onto her back. He stretched out over her, nestling in between her thighs, and gripped behind her knee to hitch one leg over his hip.
“Oh myGod.”
At the sound of a third voice, Carly jerked her head to the side at the same time Brooks cursed and tried to shield her with his body.
She peeked over Brooks’s shoulder to find her best friend standing in the open doorway, one hand over her eyes.
“Sasha!” Carly squeaked. “What, um ... What are you doing here?”
Brooks dropped his forehead to her collarbone with a groan.
Sasha kept her hand up while she spoke. “I did knock. I feel like it’s important that I say that. I came with job news. Obviously I didn’t expect to walk in to this, but I’m glad to see you two figured things out. Also, may I suggest locking the door next time you decide to dry hump on the couch?”
“Sorry.”
Brooks lifted himself off Carly, looking incredibly disappointed to be doing so, and sat up. Carly passed him a throw pillow, which he gingerly placed on his lap, and then straightened her shirt.
“Is it safe?” Sasha asked.
“Yes. You can look now.”
Sasha dropped her hand and marched forward, plopping down on the floor near Carly. She’d brought her laptop and set it on the coffee table. “I have two things to pitch to you.”
“Wait,” Brooks interrupted. “When you said you had your job stuff figured out, that meant Sasha?”
“Why do you look so surprised?” Sasha objected. “I have excellent ideas.”
“The last time you had an idea I had to date half of Oklahoma City and put it on the internet.”
“You got Carly out of it, didn’t you?”
Carly looked at Brooks. “She has a point.”
He just crossed his arms. “Fine. Proceed.”
“Okay, so the first one’s a temporary option, but it’s also the easiest. It could be a nice gig for a few months until you figure something else out.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Come work for me.”
Carly frowned. “How, exactly?”
“I’ll hire you as a fashion columnist. It wouldn’t pay enough to be something you’d want long term, but I talked to Macy and we think having you work on a couple of pieces about boutique shopping in Oklahoma City or how to put together a capsule wardrobe would be well received by readers.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“You let me use your friends-and-family discount at Jenni Kayne every year, don’t you?”
