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Mom tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Some people have a natural way with children.”

“True,” I replied. “You were always great with kids. I remember you coming to school events and having a whole crowd around you.”

She chuckled. “I always felt like that guy fromDespicable Mefollowed by all the Minions.”

The visual made me laugh. “You are way more attractive than Gru, Mom.”

“Some days...” she laughed.

Pierre finished touching up Mom’s curls and then moved on to me. “How do you feel about straightening it today?” he asked me. “It will hold up better in the photo shoot, especially when we have the towel wrapped around your hair.”

“That’s fine,” I replied. I usually wore my hair naturally or in a bun because taking the time to straighten or curl it just wasn’t practical with three kids. But now that Cora was getting older and starting to do more on her own, it might be good to play around with new styles.

When we were all done with hair and makeup, Pascale clapped again and yelled loudly, “Let’s have the happy couple go up to the large suite first.”

Happy couple?

Mom nudged me toward Gage, and I realized Pascale was talking about us. Gage looked over at me, his lips pressing together and a muscle twitching in his jaw. As we walked to the elevator while Pascale and his team gathered props, I whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“Your hair.” His voice was clipped.

I reached up, touching the smooth strands. “Do you like it?”

His fingers played along the bottom edge of my hair, twisting a lock. “It’s pretty; don’t get me wrong. It just doesn’t look like you.”

The elevator doors pinged open, and we stepped in together. Gage punched the button for the top floor, his eyes barely leaving me.

“Isn’t it fun to pretend to be someone else sometimes?”

With his heated, almost angry gaze on me, the elevator felt tight, and I already sensed warmth creeping up my neck. He crossed the inches between us and pressed me against the elevator wall, his lips grazing my skin. He nipped and kissed his way down to my shoulder, drawing my blouse to the side so he could access more skin. God, he was already turning me on.

“We don’t have enough time,” I whispered, my voice breathy.

He moaned against my shoulder, nipping it, and then worked his way back up. “Then don’t be so goddamned irresistible.”

I gripped on to his shoulders, wishing the elevator would freeze and leave us trapped here long enough to finish what we’d started. It had been a week without physical sex, and I wanted him so badly.

But then the elevator dinged, breaking the spell, and we walked to the suite. Gage adjusted his hard-on on the way, making it just a little less noticeable.

I giggled. “You know, sometimes I’m glad I’m a woman so I can get turned on without everyone knowing.”

His lips curled into a salacious smirk. “Oh, I can tell when you’re turned on.”

I shook my head at him, pushing through the door and going to the bathroom so I could put my hair back in place before Pascale and his assistants arrived. The mirror instantly showed my flushed cheeks, but then I noticed a spot hiding under the edge of my blouse.

“Gage Griffen!” I hissed, turning to push his shoulder. “You motherfucker.”

He smirked. “I suppose I am technically a motherfucker.”

I fought back a smile, still angry with him. “I’m serious!”

“What?” he asked, looking half amused and half confused.

I pulled my shirt aside, showing him the mark he’d left on my skin. “You gave me a hickey!”

“And?” He was far too casual about this.

“And I’m amother. I’m thirty-four years old. I’m far too old to be getting love bites!”