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SEALED WITH A KISS
PROLOGUE
Maddie
Some nights are meant to be perfect, and this is one of them.
My fingers are thread through my fiancé’s, Kevin’s, hand as we step into the elevator in our building, my shiny new engagement ring glinting on my left hand. After a year together getting engaged is the natural—perfect—progression. We met on a blind date, moved in together three months later, and tonight he popped the question on our one-year anniversary at one of New York’s most exclusive, expensive restaurants.
It could have been a scene out of a movie. Our table, with its pristine tablecloth, candles, and fine china, was completely surrounded by people whobeamedat us, like our romance is one for the ages.
Because itisone for the ages. Even the waiters and waitresses clapped for us, looking genuinely happy, and I felt alittle buzzed on the complimentary champagne and cake and thehappiness.
This is bliss. I’ve always been called a hopeless romantic and a decade in this city has put me through the ringer. It was all worth it though. I always knew I’d find my happily ever after.
Kevin pushes the button for our floor, his bicep flexing under my hand. A simper slips into place, and I feel the hint of a blush in my chest. I love the way he feels. The way he smells, the way he does everything.
Tonight makes the last few years feel like they’ve come to a close. Like I’m ready for my new chapter. I hesitate to call them bad, because that’s a negative way to spin things when everything in my life has brought me to this moment.
No, they weren’t bad years, but they were…challenging.
Yes. That’s the right word. They werechallenging. I went through a nasty breakup and needed a lot of late-night texting with Suzette, who’s like a big sister to me. The whole situation made me feel young and naive, which in a way, I was.
Maybe I still am.
But I don’t feel young and naive. I feel like a woman who’s finally got her life figured out. I rose from the ashes of that boyfriend and found a man who loves me enough to marry me. I’ve upgraded my apartment from a teeny, tiny one-bedroom with secondhand furniture to a luxury apartment where everything’s brand new and as perfect as my recent engagement. The only sign of my former life is the crocheted blanket from my grandmother, which the cleaning staff takes special care to smooth over the back of the couch every week.
The elevator lifts off with smooth acceleration.
That’s probably why my stomach drops a little. It’s just the elevator, not my nerves or any subconscious feeling that life can’t be this good.
The future is going to be as perfect as the present. Our reflection stares back at us from the silver elevator doors. Kevin bought my wine-red dress and paid for the hair appointment that turned my dark brunette hair into gorgeous, shining waves. It feels too good to be true.
As we wait for the ding of our level, I go over my to-do list in my head, rubbing my thumb in soothing circles on his forearm. Next week, I’ll refocus on my charity work. None of the positions Kevin’s gotten me are paid, but they don’t have to be. He told me he makes enough money that I don’t have to work.
It’s perfect, I remind myself again, leaning against his arm just slightly.
He doesn’t lean closer to me. He’s watching our reflection with a frown, like his mind is miles away. That nervous feeling comes over me again and I peer up at him, waiting for him to look back down. He doesn’t.
The elevator slows, and Kevin lets out a harsh sigh. We live on the eighth floor and this is only the fourth.
“You okay?” I squeeze his arm, feeling the brand-new weight of the engagement ring on my finger.
“I just want to get home.”
It takes effort for my expression to stay even and not show my shock and slight disappointment. Kevin’s tone doesn’t reflect a newly engaged man. I’d expected…passion, maybe. That he’d want to push me up against the wall of the elevator and kiss me until we got upstairs. I feel all these bundles of desire and want, but it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same.
Kevin just sounds tired.
He seemed happy enough at the restaurant, though, so…
Maybe heistired. Maybe he’s desperate to get to our bedroom so he can get out of his suit and spread me out on the covers. Maybe he’s as excited to continue the next phase of our perfect life as I am, he just needs a minute to collect himself.
It’s good. This is good. My life is just the way I wanted it when I was living in that one-bedroom apartment, my heart aching from the breakup and my head spinning from how confused and angry I felt at my ex.
This is supposed to be the reward for coming this far. For healing my heart finding a new man and accepting everything life had to offer. This is the prize at the end of the race. I love New York City, and I love my life in it, and I’ve loved it hard enough to convince it to love me back.
The elevator comes to a stop on the fourth floor, and the doors slide open to reveal a man in a suit that looks more expensive than Kevin’s. It’s crisp and tailored perfectly. He moves into the elevator with confident strides and takes his place next to me, then leans forward to press the button for the sixth floor. The air fills with the masculine scent of his cologne and all it takes is one inhale.