Page 49

I shrug. I don’t know. “I wish we didn’t have people waiting on us. I wish more that I didn’t look freshly fucked after getting laid because it sure would be nice to alleviate this ache.”

He reaches between my legs and strokes a few times, drawing a gasp from my lips and wetness from my core.

“I’ll be thinking of you wet and throbbing all night tonight.

You think of me eating your pretty pink pussy until you can’t breathe and then taking my cock until my cum oozes out of you. Deal?”

I squeeze my thighs together, trapping his hand there. “If you keep talking like that, I won’t make it through dinner.”

He kisses below my ear and whispers there, “I’ll be fighting my dick all night too. It wants you. I always want you. And this get-up—” He fingers my romper. “It’s tempting me to abandon business, get on my knees, and worship you the way you deserve.”

His fingers at my core stroke again leaving a wet spot in the silk, and a shiver scurrying up my spine.

By the time we are at the upscale wine bar, my body thrums with pent up sexual frustration, my mind spins on how quickly we can get home, and my face… Well, it tells the man I’m in love with exactly what I’m thinking. Game on.

I’m twirling a cocktail straw around my tongue since no one but Christian is looking when Cian walks in. No sports coat, but high-end trousers and nice shoes round out his starched shirt and cerulean blue tie.

“Hey, Ci.” I lift to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m surprised Christian didn’t mention it. He invited me. ”

Grr.“He did?”

“Yeah. Just a business thing, right?”

“Now’s your time, you know. Network it up.”

He levels his eyes on me. “Sis, you of all people know how much I hate this kind of stuff.”

“Have you made any decisions?”

He shakes his head. “Lose, lose, lose. With options like those, decisions aren’t fast or easy.”

“I disagree. This is only a win-win. I don’t know what the second win is, but you deserve everything in the world. The least of those is a work environment where you’re not compromising your principles.”

“Thanks.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “I needed the pep talk.”

“Always here for you, Ci. Now, go take on the room and work it like the successful businessman and entrepreneur you are.”

“That last bit is a stretch.”

“No, it’s not.” I spin him by the shoulders and give him a little shove with my last words. “It’s your destiny.”

He gives me a wink over his shoulder and boops the air.

I sidle up to my husband and slide an arm under his, resting my hand on his hip.

He’s discussing something that I'm sure at one point I understood or feigned interest in, but now is snooze-worthy. I love the man, but business is boring. More so than they ever made it out in school. It’s mostly listening to people drone on about things I care little about but have to look interested.

And I’m not that great an actress. I palm his ass and let my thumb rub the seam between his cheeks subtly before sliding away with a “Pardon me” to his colleagues.

He snags my hand as I’m walking away and tugs me back into his side to whisper in my ear, “Tonight will be fun.”

I sashay away, making sure he sees it.

Taking a seat in the high-backed banquette, I watch the room.

Christian moves with ease. It may be easy since he literally owns the room, but, somehow, I know this is a practiced skill, one he’s honed over years of owning rooms before he purchased them.

Cian moves easily through the crowd, but it’s different. He chats with people, not flitting from group to group, but sinking into conversations. His genuine nature is obvious and met with similar depth. At least that’s how it appears.

“Mrs. Barone?” A deep voice pulls me from my musings. Ren Gallo stands near the banquette and extends a hand to the side opposite mine. “May I?”

“Please, Ren. How are you? And how’d you get dragged into this?”

“I lead security here since we’ve launched, so most nights I’m here with my team.”

“Has it been a success? The launch I mean?”

He nods deeply, studying me more than I’m used to. “I’m pleased with what we’ve built.”

“That’s great.” I extend a hand as if to tap the table but pull back after more consideration. “After the last year, I’m glad something’s going well.”

“Yeah, the last year has been eye-opening.” His gaze is intense on me, not like he’s checking me out. More like he’s trying to see through me.

“Lucky you.” I take a sip of my spritzer. “For me, it’s mostly been shadows and fog. Well, the last six months anyway. I don’t know which is worse—the not knowing, or the feeling of missing something big but being unable to put my finger on it.”

He taps his fingers lightly on the tabletop. His eyes follow movement in the room before settling on me. “What’s the distinction?”

“It’s subtle. I don’t know… I guess there are the blackout times like not remembering our wedding, not knowing what it felt like to open Aspen & Evergreen, missing significant moments, months of…

nothing. But then there’s this…” I rub the pad of my thumb down the cuts in the crystal tumbler, enjoying the pattern’s texture against my skin.

“I don’t know, not exactly foreboding, but that’s as good a word as any for something hanging over me, over us…

And not knowing what it is or how to avoid it, how to escape this impending— I don’t know how to articulate it.

One is definable. It happened and I don’t know it.

The other is intangible but looming. It’s the boogie man waiting to jump out from behind a corner, but you don’t know which corner or which room, or what the boogie man looks like. ”

His fingers stop their tapping. His eyes never leave mine. They bounce around my face as if he’s looking for the truthfulness of my words and he can’t find an answer there.

“Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer. That wasn’t my intent.”

He shakes his head. “Is the feeling of impending doom, that boogie man… is it a result of the fall?”

“No.” I shake my head, my voice dropping.

“It’s a gut thing. Too many things don’t add up.

And, Ren, you and I both know this wasn’t a fall.

” I turn my temple toward him subtly. “Liam has taken to calling it an attempt on my life. And he’s not wrong.

I know it. He knows it. Christian knows it. Perhaps you do too.”

Ren’s head bobs once.

“Then Christian was shot and those people in black were wandering the property. Something’s going on.

It’s not my memory that’s at issue. Except for the fact that I don’t have the clues to help solve the mystery.

” I snort. “I’m Daphne without the rest of the Mystery Gang trying to unmask the unknown villain. ”

Ren smiles and, for the first time, I see the handsome man he truly is. He’s no Christian Barone, but he’s no second fiddle either.

“You have a great smile, Ren. You should do that more often.”

“I have a serious job, Mrs. Barone. It’s hard to be taken seriously if I’m smiling.”

“Well, when you’re not working, do it more.” I tap my open palm on the table in front of us. “And it’s Ayla. Please. At least when it’s us. This Mrs. Barone thing is weird.”

He dips his head in a nod and allows a little smile to play on his lips. “Yes, ma’am.” He tilts his head back to the guests. “I need to get back to it. Don’t hesitate if you need something, okay? ”

“Keep him safe.” I look toward my husband working the room. “Keep us safe. That’s all I ask.”

“Of course, Mrs. Barone… Ayla.” He slides from the booth, letting his fingers linger on the table for a moment before he strides away, blending seamlessly into the crowd and disappearing.