Page 29 of Unconventionally, Elle

Now

Before I could finish my sentence, his hand slid to my cheek and his eyes locked on mine. He leaned forward, slowly, intentionally, and I closed my eyes and met him the rest of the way.

"You've scored quite the table, sir," I said as I walked up with my honey lavender latte. He was looking down, and at the sound of my voice, he startled upright. "Whoops, sorry about that." I chuckled. "Waiting on someone?"

"Only the prettiest girl in the city," he said, running his hand through his dark wavy hair and grinning. "Please, take a seat, she just arrived." He motioned for me to sit next to him on the teal cushioned bench.

"You're something else, Barrett Henry." I felt my cheeks lift with joy, and each step felt like I was floating toward him. When I sat down, he leaned over and kissed my cheek with a light, delicate peck.

And later after we finally had our first night together, that's when I knew I was in trouble.

Barrett picked me up and we went to a basketball game together.

He assured me that I would enjoy an indoor sport better than outside in November.

But also, they had barbecue pork nachos, and he knew by now that I was a sucker for tasty bites.

I wasn't expecting basketball to be fun because, well, sports, but it was exciting being seated on the court with Barrett.

Especially when he would put his arm around me or kiss me on my cheek just because. I felt light. I felt... happy?

After the game, Barrett and I left the TD Garden and drove south.

"I thought we were staying at my house tonight?" I asked when I noticed we weren't going toward Back Bay.

"Actually, I wanted to show you my place. I think it's time you met the most important person in my life." His flirtatious side-eye made my stomach flutter.

"I'm right here, aren't I?" I gave him a wicked smile and reached for his hand. We intertwined our fingers, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"My other special person, smart-ass." He sighed playfully. "Are you okay with coming by?" This time he looked over at me and I saw the excitement in his eyes.

"I don't know, B. I do like sitting on my balcony with you in the mornings." I loved teasing him. "Plus, I have a comfy bed, you said so yourself." I lifted my chin in fake triumph.

"Oh, don't worry about your balcony, sweetheart. I've got a surprise for you." The corner of his mouth lifted. "And you're right, your bed is very comfortable."

Barrett parked his Porsche and let the valet take his keys. I knew Barrett was a luxurious guy, but his building took my breath away.

"They just finished building this a few months ago," he said as he saw me staring at the high-rise and its peculiar shape.

"Is this... a sail?" My forehead creased as I turned my head sideways and tried to understand the architectural design. Barrett laughed and reached for my hand, his fingers locked with mine.

"Actually, you're right. It's supposed to resemble a sailboat." He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

My jaw hit the floor the second we stepped through the towering glass doors of the lobby.

Magnificent crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and exquisite artwork adorned the walls.

We strolled across the pristine marble floors so I could take in the opulence.

Once inside the mirrored elevator, Barrett pressed the button for the top floor.

"Shut up, the penthouse?" I shrieked.

He flinched at my high tone but gave me a shy smile.

"Sorry, sorry, that was louder than I meant. But holy shit, Barrett."

He stayed quiet with pressed lips and took my hand in his as we ascended twenty-two floors.

"Are you ready for it, Elle?" he asked as we stepped off the elevator and walked to his door.

I glanced at him and tugged his arm. "I'm dying to see. Show me already."

As the door opened, I felt the breath leave my body. The immaculate beauty of his panoramic harbor view, floor-to-ceiling windows, marble, and--oh my God--his balcony.

"What do you think?" he asked nervously.

I gathered what was left of my thoughts and turned to look at him at my side.

"I don't think I can think." I rubbed my eyes and opened them wide again.

"Barrett, I have no words. Your condo is absolutely stunning.

I..." As I was about to tell him I didn't need to go home tonight, or ever, something ran up from behind me and jumped onto the back of my right leg.

Caught by surprise, I toppled forward, but Barrett caught my arm before I could truly fall.

Confused, I stood up straight and looked down at my feet.

"And this," Barrett announced with a grand gesture of his hand toward the bright white ball of fur, "is Louie. The number one, most important being in my life." His teasing grin could kill.

"Your most important... is a dog?" I couldn't help but smile. Barrett Henry was a dog dad to the cutest Frenchie I'd ever seen.

"Excuse me, miss." He knelt to Louie's level and picked up the playful pup. "He is purebred and only yells at me sometimes, okay?"

My laugh echoed throughout the condo, and Louie tilted his head to stare at me.

"Now, Louie, this is Elle. Okay?"

The dog just stared at Barrett with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Right, well, she's going to be visiting us, and we have to be a good boy, yeah? Who's the goodest boy? Who's Daddy's baby boy?"

The dog began to pant and wagged his tail like a maniac.

Barrett snuggled him close and gave him kisses all over his head.

"Do you need a minute?" I said as he gave all the snuggles to Louie.

"Okay, buddy, go play. Go get your toy." Barrett put the dog back on the floor and pointed to the corner, where a small toy basket was overflowing with stuffed animals.

"You might be obsessed." I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. I felt warmth radiate from my stomach down to my--oh boy. I didn't know I had a thing for men who adored their little dogs and spoke to them in baby talk. "You're also a pretty sexy dog dad."

"Yeah?" he answered in a low and husky voice. "Tell me what else is sexy." He stepped closer, his presence stealing my air.

I changed the subject even though my entire being wanted nothing more than for him to pick me up over his shoulder and throw me into his bed. "So, can I get the grand tour?" I broke eye contact and gestured around, stepping back slightly.

"Sure," he said. The condo had an open floor plan. He walked behind me, leaned down to rest his chin on my shoulder, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

A giggle escaped my lips before I could think to stop it.

Pointing, he continued. "This is the living room, kitchen's over there, and down the hallway"--he turned his head and whispered into my ear--"is one of my favorite rooms."

"Hmm, would that be your bedroom?" I teased, turning my face slightly, allowing my cheek to rest on his nose.

"No, of course it's the library, you dirty girl." He nudged me with his nose and our lips brushed against each other. "Mm, Elle, I love your kisses."

I turned my body in his arms and let my tongue brush against his.

He broke away, slightly panting, his gaze fierce. "Follow me." His smoky voice made my toes tingle.

I followed him down the hallway and into a room right before the library.

His bedroom. Every wall was a floor-to-ceiling window, and the harbor sparkled in the moonlight.

He picked me up in the doorway and kissed me desperately before placing me down on his soft black comforter.

It smelled of him, it all smelled of him.

Oak and white musk. My body was pulsing, I wanted him.

Jude and I used to be something, but Barrett.

.. Barrett was here. Barrett was now. That night, in his bed, I entirely forgot about Jude Ashford.

After sleeping over at Barrett's multiple nights in a row, I went home to my cozy little condo with its exposed brick and uneven wooden floors.

As much as I loved his place--seriously loved it--it felt too.

.. sterile. We were supposed to work together at the coffee shop this morning, but in true writer form, I was procrastinating.

I started cleaning the kitchen, which led to the bathroom (somehow), and when Barrett texted me asking for my ETA, I was sitting on the living room floor organizing my bookshelf.

To be fair, I firmly believed that the house had to be clean and organized before I could leave and go write; it was procrastination at its finest.

Barrett: Get your ass over here. Let's write.

Thirty minutes later . . .

Me: I'm on my way. Still have our booth?

Barrett: Yes, but the barista is eyeing me like I'm an asshole for taking up a whole booth when there's obviously groups waiting to take it from me. Hurry!

Me: Be there in a sec, see you soon. xo

I bustled into the café and saw Barrett right away talking to an aggravated group of four. From what I could hear, he was trying to explain that he wasn't alone. As soon as he noticed me, relief visibly washed over him like a waterfall.

"See, there she is!" His voice rose an octave, and he pointed in my direction.

I waved with an apologetic grin. "I'm here, I'm here.

Sorry about that, guys. I was delayed." I smiled politely and took my seat next to Barrett, who gave a triumphant glare to the group leader, an old man with long gray hair pulled into a low ponytail.

His curly mustache was truly impressive.

At my official arrival, the man rolled his eyes in annoyance and stormed off with the rest following suit.

"Thank you for holding down the fort," I said sheepishly. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here." I pulled my laptop out of my tote.

"My pleasure." He took a quick drink of his coffee and placed it next to his laptop.

"What are you working on this fine Monday morning?" I asked, curious. He had nothing but spreadsheets and figures pulled up on his screen.

"My dad and I have a big real estate investment opportunity coming up, and I'm going through the financials and such of the deal.

Boring shit, really." He waved it off, clearly not interested in discussing it further.

"You ready to write your bestseller?" he asked, looking over at my notebook I'd placed on the table with scribbles all over the page.

"Yep, right after I get my usual." I took a big breath and shot him a quick smile as I stood up.

"Honey lavender latte, hot, with almond milk," he repeated as if he were reciting a poem.

"Don't forget my dash of vanilla if I'm feeling fancy. Wait, I never told you my usual." I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes, along with a subtle pout.

"I have my ways." He gave me a devilish smile.

"I just told the barista, who happens to know exactly who you are, that I was waiting on Elle Watson and that I would like to order your usual order.

He said he knew what that was and that he was going to have it ready as soon as he saw you walk in.

So I think that's it up there now?" He pointed to the pickup counter, and John, my usual barista, winked mischievously my way.

"You're good, B, you're really good," I commended him.

Barrett chuckled, then his phone vibrated on the table. He looked down and I saw his face fall.

"Sorry, Elle. One sec." He started typing furiously with his lips pressed thin.

I took that moment to turn and head toward John and my honey lavender latte. "Thanks, John." I grabbed my latte from the bar.

"Welcome, Elle. I like the new guy." John wiggled his brows while his lips curved into a playful smile.

"Me too." I gave him a sly pucker and shimmied my shoulders.

I sat back down next to Barrett, who was no longer texting but using his phone as a calculator. Without a word, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He was warm and smelled of fresh linen and pine. His lips curved upward at the touch of my lips.

I opened my laptop, then held my latte to my nose before taking a quick taste. The lavender sent waves of calm throughout my body. I could do this. I hovered my fingers above the keyboard and started typing.

A little while later, Barrett stood up and reached toward the ceiling to stretch, exposing his lower abdomen for my eyes to devour. My brain malfunctioned as I caught a glimpse of his natural smooth contour and dark masculine happy trail. Change of plans--I did not want to write right now.

He noticed my hungry eyes, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

"Hey, babe, I have to get back to the office.

My dad is blowing me up this morning." He sighed and started to pack up his work.

"I swear, it's not a true Monday morning until my dad reminds me I'm not him and that I have a duty to the family, so don't fuck it up.

" He rolled his eyes and shoved the last folder into his bag.

"I'm sorry, B. Is there anything I can do to help?" I felt helpless and wanted to make him feel better.

"Oh, I have some ideas. But later, okay?" He winked, hiding the frustration I knew was underneath. "I'm living vicariously through you, okay, Elle." He leaned in and I met him halfway. His lips against mine felt soft and teasing. "Fuck, I don't want to leave you right now," he growled.

"Don't worry, Mr. Henry." I kissed him again. "I think I can pencil you in between writing, writing, and, oh, writing."

"I'll see you tonight, Ms. Watson," he whispered.

And then he was gone.