Chloe’s high-pitched giggles carried to us from the dining room along with the low baritone roll of Lucian’s laughter.
Maeve took another hit of wine. “Shit. Well, hold on to something, because I’m going to give you some very not me-like advice.”
Theatrically, I gripped a floor lamp.
“At least hear him out,” she instructed. “If a guy is offering you everything you’ve dreamed of, maybe you owe it to yourself to find out if he’s serious.”
“You really miss him, don’t you?” I asked.
“Who?”
“The guy you were secretly seeing but broke up with because you were too busy to let yourself fall in love.”
“Little sisters are so annoying,” Maeve complained. Another round of laughter echoed out of the dining room. “Mom and Chloe sure seem to like him.”
“Yeah, well, they haven’t been subjected to his whims yet. Tonight he’s charming Lucian. Tomorrow he could morph into sulky, solitary Lucian again.”
The doorbell cut off any further conversation.
“I’ll get it,” I yelled even as I heard the scrape of a chair from the dining room.
Lucian and I got to the front door at the same time. “I told you I don’t want you answering the door,” he growled.
“And I told you that I’m the one who lives here,” I shot back.
We wrestled for the handle and managed to open the door, revealing a determined-looking Kurt Michaels holding a huge bouquet of lilies.
“Uh-oh,” I said.
“Sloane is busy. With me. And for future reference, she’s allergic to lilies,” Lucian said.
“He’s not here for me, Lucifer,” I said, stopping him from slamming the door in Kurt’s face.
“I’m going big,” Kurt said, nodding at me.
“Good luck,” I whispered. “She’s in the dining room.”
He squared his shoulders and walked past us into the house.
“What the hell is going on?” Lucian demanded.
I sneezed twice. “He’s in love with my sister.”
“Then why in the hell was he dating you?”
I shrugged and sniffled as I closed the front door. “Love makes people do stupid things.” I sneezed again, then blew my nose in the chardonnay tissues.
“You’re damn right it does,” he muttered.
“Shh!” I hissed.
“Mr. Michaels, what are you doing here? Is it because I got four talking warnings during the math test today? I told you I like to verbalize the numbers,” Chloe said.
“Mom, please excuse me. I need to deal with something,” Maeve announced. Seconds later, she appeared in the hallway, dragging Kurt and the flowers.
I opened the front door and grinned. “Why don’t you two talk on the porch? And remember, hear him out. If a guy is offering you everything you’ve dreamed of, maybe you owe it to yourself to find out if he’s serious.”
“Bite me, Sloane,” my sister snarled.
41
The Butter Knife Defense
Lucian
Why am I finding this folded up under a tote of Christmas decorations in the second spare room?” Sloane demanded, bursting into the umbrella-wallpapered guest room I’d commandeered as my office, waving her ex’s sweatshirt like it was a flag.
I turned away from the command center of screens my IT team had set up for me and gave her my full attention. “Because I was smart enough not to actually throw it out,” I said mildly.
It had been five days of us sharing a house, a bed, like an actual couple, and Sloane was showing no signs of cracking. The only reason she let me sleep in bed with her was because she was so exhausted at the end of each day that she fell asleep midargument.
Those long nights were both the sweetest reward and a newfound torture since she’d made it clear that sex was off the table. But I’d gone most of my life without knowing what her body felt like under mine. I could tough it out until I changed her mind.
Sooner or later, she had to acknowledge that those feelings she’d had for me hadn’t just vanished into thin air.
Unfortunately, that day was not today. She’d thrown a toasted bagel half at my head in the kitchen this morning.
It didn’t matter. I had infinite patience. I would simply wait her out until she accepted the fact that we were together.
“You don’t get to have a problem with me keeping an ex-boyfriend’s sweatshirt, Lucifer,” Sloane said, stomping into the room. She was barefoot and wearing holey jeans and a tight long-sleeve T-shirt the color of raspberries. All that blond hair was piled on her head in a messy knot. She’d gone with the purple-framed glasses today and a bold red lipstick. Every morning, I couldn’t wait to see what lipstick she chose. The bolder the color, the feistier her attitude.
I fucking loved being this close to her. At the same time, I hated the sliver of distance she managed to wedge between us. I wanted it all. I wanted all of her, and I wasn’t going to back down until she found me worthy enough to have her.
“I don’t like the idea of my girlfriend, the woman I’m going to marry and have a family with, cuddling up in an old boyfriend’s disgusting sweat rag and reminiscing about the good old days.”
“You don’t want to marry anyone, and you’ve made it abundantly clear with a vasectomy that you don’t want kids. So why don’t you save us both a lot of time and get out of my house!”
She ended on a shrill screech that had Meow Meow abandoning the heated cat bed I’d installed in the window.
“And another thing,” Sloane said, pointing at the retreating feline. “Stop making friends with my cat!”
“I take it your meeting with the board didn’t go well,” I guessed.
She’d spent an hour and a half locked in the dining room with the entire library board for an emergency planning session.
Sloane flounced over to the periwinkle wingback chair next to my desk and sat, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “They actually voted not to open a temporary location and focus on getting the building back in usable shape. Can you believe that?”
“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” I said diplomatically.
“I can’t just sit around doing nothing for three to four months.”
“Fine. Pack a bag.”
“Uh. Excuse me?”
I stood and began loading accessories into a sleek leather bag. “I have business in the District. I’m not leaving you alone here. So you’re coming with me.”
She took a deep breath and prepared to launch another argument. “I can’t just pick up and leave—”
“Your board voted. They’re not going to let you proceed with anything right now, and I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of staring at the same wallpapered walls. We’ll go to DC. I’ll set you up with a workspace in my office. You come up with the services that are a priority, and then we’ll figure out how to continue offering them in the interim. Then when we come back, you can present the solutions to the board.”
Those green eyes behind the lenses of her glasses blinked once in surprise. “You’d do that for me?”
I crossed to her and put my hands on the arms of the chair. “I’d do anything for you.”
Those green eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Oh, please,” she muttered.
“Especially if it stops you from whining,” I added, dropping a lightning-quick kiss on the tip of her nose.
The corners of those red lips curved up.
“We’re going out for dinner,” I announced as we entered my condo after a long afternoon. “Can you be ready in an hour?”
Sloane had spent most of the day complaining, first about her workstation being in my office, then about me refusing to let her out of my sight in a city where “probably no one” wanted to murder her. But I’d held firm. Until my investigators or Nash’s found the person responsible, I wasn’t leaving her side.