“We have dinner plans,” he states, motioning with his hand for me to come closer.
“For your birthday,” I remind him, closing the distance between us. I slide between him and the desk and hop up to sit on the surface, resting my hands on his shoulders. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He rests his hands on my thighs, but it feels like an expression of comfort as opposed to copping a feel.
“You still want to go?” I ask, massaging his shoulders. “I was gonna spend the night after. Give you your birthday present.”
“Were you?” He grins, that dimple I love so much flashing on his left cheek.
“Yes.” I nod, face serious. “It’s too dirty to give to you at the restaurant. So it’ll have to wait until after dinner,” I whisper in his ear.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Good.”
I’m glad he’s perking up. I got waxed today, I’d hate to waste it.
And my nails. I’ve painted them Porn-A-Thon peach. Toes too. You think I’m kidding? I spent an hour looking at nail polish names online before finding this one. Then I had to make a special trip to a department store to buy it.
But it’s worth it to make Sawyer’s birthday perfect.
“We should go,” he comments, glancing at his watch.
I slide off his desk and stand. I’m wearing a navy jersey dress and it hugs my figure in all the right places. Sawyer finally takes notice of that when I’m on my feet and my chest is in his face.
“Or we could skip dinner,” he throws out, placing his hands on my hips, his palms warm through the fabric.
“You know I’d normally take you up on that offer, but I’m guessing you skipped lunch today by the way it looks like your day went.”
Something flashes in his eyes and I want to kick myself for bringing it up, but it’s replaced by an easy smile a second later.
“You’re right,” he says, standing. I trail behind him to the coat closet in his office.
“Besides, you’ll need your strength for later, tiger.” I slap his ass as he’s reaching into the closet to grab our coats, his back to me.
He’s still for a moment, my view of his face blocked by the closet door. The door slowly closes, the hinge creaking in the otherwise silent office.
“Are you serious with that behavior?” he asks, head cocked to the side, expression neutral.
“Yup.” I nod immediately and shrug my shoulders. I was serious, what else can I say?
He holds the impassive facial expression for another few seconds, his lips trembling by the end. Then he laughs and pulls me in for a kiss.
“What would I do without you, Everly?” His eyes search mine, all the tension from before gone.
“You’d be crazy bored.”
“Crazy,” he agrees, sliding my coat over my arms.
We pass Sandra on the way to the elevators, returning to her desk from escorting Marlene out. I’m tempted to ask Sawyer about his day, curious about what had him so stressed out, but I feel like the mood broke back in his office and I don’t want to get him stressed again, so I let it go. I’m sure he doesn’t want to think about boring business stuff tonight anyway.
Forty
Dinner is perfect. Sawyer is back to his usual self—maybe a little tired, but that’s to be expected after a stressful day.
Sawyer teases me throughout the meal, asking about his present, making wild guesses, asking if it’s stashed in my bag or if I’ve dropped it off at the apartment already. I refuse to give him a single clue, laughing while he drums his fingertips on the table and comes up with one wrong idea after another.
“Geez, I hope you like it, after all this guessing. I hope you’ll be into it,” I add with a wink as the waiter approaches with dessert menus.
Sawyer declines the offered dessert menus and asks for the check without taking his eyes off mine.
“I’ll be into it,” he promises with a slow, sexy grin. His eyes roam my face, taking in every detail.
“I don’t get dessert?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
“Nope.” He’s completely unapologetic as he shakes his head. “You can order whatever you want from the room service menu. Later.”
We’re outside minutes later, waiting for the valet to pull his car up. His arm is around my waist, and I’m leaning into his side when he presses a kiss to the top of my head and whispers, “I love you, Everly.”
It’s not the first time he’s said it. And it’s not the first time I’ve said it back, but it hits me in the gut, as heavenly hearing it now as it was the first time.
The car arrives, sliding up to the curb with a soft purr. Sawyer grabs the passenger door and hands me into the car before slamming the door closed and circling the car to the driver’s side.
“This car,” I say with a shake of my head as we pull away from the curb, merging into traffic headed towards Penn Square. “I thought you were going to be such a dick, driving a Porsche.”
“Yeah? A Porsche didn’t say successful CEO to you?”