Dom lets out a deep sigh and clears his throat. “Savage, I am asking you to do me a favor here, in return for the one I did for you earlier this week. I don’t think I’m asking much of you.”
I knew there would be a price. I guess in the grand scheme of things, I should be thanking God it’s all he’s asking for. At worst, it’s just some pissed off patrons. “Okay, I’ll talk to Byron and get them moved out of there. Give me at least a half hour.”
“Thank you, Savage, you are truly a prince among men.”
An eye roll seems appropriate at his comment. After hanging up with Dom, I immediately call down to the bar. Byron answers and I watch him on my screen. “Hey, boss, what’s up?” He looks into the camera as he talks to me, knowing I always keep an eye on things.
I explain the situation quickly. He grumbles, but disappears to break the bad news the bachelor party.
Slumping back in my chair, I drain the rest of my bourbon and pour myself another glass. I’m going to need this tonight to deal with all the complaints this will cause.
Fuck Dom!
The bump of the music from downstairs thuds through the floor. I drop my head back and close my eyes, willing the headache starting to form at the base of my neck to hold off until I can get home and slip into a hot shower.
I hear the door open and I’m hit with a familiar scent, one I will never forget.
Lilacs and spring rain.
Danika.
My eyes snap open and I find her standing near the door, looking as beautiful as the first day she stormed in here. Her flaxen hair is floating around her shoulders in waves and she sucks her red, plump bottom lip between her teeth as she eyes me warily.
I scan her, checking to make sure she’s physically okay. After not seeing or hearing from her for a week, even after sending the note, I’ve been secretly terrified something happened to her.
She’s sporting her usual four-inch stilettos and a skirt so short it leaves very little to the imagination. Then again, I don’t need my imagination after what happened on my patio. Her skirt is paired with a shimmering tank top that exposes the tops of her breasts in a way that is practically begging me to touch them.
Holy. Hell.
Finally, her lip slips from between her teeth and she takes a tentative step toward me. “Hey.”
“Hey, what are you doing here? Are you okay?” She cringes and I regret my choice of words; she probably thinks I’m pissed and don’t want to see her.
“Um, Gabe said it was okay if I came up.”
I move around my desk and approach her slowly. “Of course it’s okay. I’ve been worried about you.”
She hangs her head and looks to the floor, shifting uncomfortably in her heels. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I just…needed some time.”
Needed some time? Time to figure out how to tell me to fuck off? Time to accept the situation and roll with it?
I stop in front of her and look up into her eyes. “But…you’re okay?”
She nods at me, her blue eyes flashing with emotion. What emotion? I don’t have a fucking clue, and isn’t that a fucking bitch?
“Then, what’s wrong?”
A single tear falls, sliding down her cheek and dropping from her chin. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, wiping at her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it in mine. “Don’t worry about me. Just tell me that you are okay.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Crying isn’t fine. A woman crying is absolutely never fine.
“Come, sit down.” She nods and I release her hand, letting her follow me over to the couch in the sitting area of my office. She drops down onto it and I settle in front of her. “You want a drink?”
Relief floods her face and she smiles. “Yeah, please.”
I grab the bottle of Blanton’s and my glass off my desk and stop at the bar to grab another glass for Danika. I give each of us a strong pour before setting the bottle down on the side table.
I have a feeling we’re both going to need this.
Handing her a glass, I lean in and catch her eyes. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She takes a sip of the bourbon and seems to relax instantly. After staring down at her glass for several agonizing moments, she finally clears her throat. “I needed to see you.”
That’s it.
My heart tightens in my chest, and my mind immediately jumps to the obvious conclusion—she’s here to tell me she’s done.
“Why did you need to see me?” I ask, setting my drink down on the end table so I can take her free hand in mine.
She looks up at me from under impossibly long black lashes and flashes a shy smile. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I left your place.”
Her repetition of the almost exact words I spoke to her on our first date makes my heart flutter with hope.
Is she trying to tell me something? Why can’t she just say it?
I take a fortifying breath and steady myself. “What have you been thinking about?” I rub my thumb in circles over the palm of her hand, and she squeezes my hand gently.
“How badly I want you to do what you did to me on your patio again. How badly I want you…us.”