“Fat lot of good that did you.” He took his hands away and she shivered at the loss of contact before he wrapped his arms around her, brought her body hard up against his. “I thawed you out.”
“Like no one else could.”
“Maybe a kiss won’t be enough, might need to be a lot more than one, on a consistent basis, because I’ve learned about planning for the long-term, analyzing my options, thinking big and minimizing my risks and I know what I want my future to be. I want a friend and a lover and a drumbeat between us, sometimes loud and strong, sometimes softer, resonant, always a steady pulse to hold us together while we chase our dreams. I could do with advice on how to get that? You can see me through the noise, Mena, and I want you in my life plan.”
Forgiveness was a new start. Hope was music you could build a life with. “It’ll cost you.”
He gave her that light-up-the-sky grin that made groupies swoon. “I recently learned how to budget.”
She’d have to thank Caroline for that, and for her unnecessary two-hour appointment with Mr. Lostal Paradiso. “I’ll be nice and let you pay me in kind.”
His arms tightened around her. “The kind where I get to take you home and make you come on my piano?”
Her face heated and she put her finger to his lips. She could stop him talking but not the amusement lighting his eyes. It was a relief to see it and she would fight to keep it there always. She wanted this relationship so badly she couldn’t afford fall into it without making sure everything was clear between them.
“Sometimes a good investment takes time to pay dividends. I made a selfish mistake, but my fundamentals are good, Grip.” Oh God, that sounded so not what you should say to a lover, to a man who you wanted to kiss more than you wanted your heart to keep pumping, but that serious businesslike way of thinking was a part of her, the part she’d worried he would not love.
He caught her finger and threaded their hands together. “You’re so sexy when you talk advisor to me.”
All the remaining tension in her let go. They had a shot at this, at something incredible. “Sometimes a good groupie can get obsessive.” That was better. That was the two halves of Philomena Grady asking Mark Grippen to believe in her.
His brows jumped. “So long as you’re obsessive about me.”
“About us.” She went to her toes, pressed her lips to his and paid him that first of a sextillion kisses designed to build his trust.
That was their agenda for some time, roving hands and nonsense words and breathy sighs and lips locked as if unlocking them would stop the show. Mena’s head was swimming and her body was humming with arousal when Grip tapped the table. “What do you think? Should I start earning those dividends now?”
He didn’t mean . . . They couldn’t.
He laughed. “We can,” he said, reading her innermost wicked lick of desire. He was so very talented at that, amongst other things.
Fantasy and reality collided when he maneuvered her to brace on the table, a big hot hand under her skirt to her inside thigh, he said, “We’re going to be extraordinary,” and every excited heartbeat, pleasured gasp and satisfied sigh from then on was right on the money. Their own economy of needs and wants fully satisfied.
An investment in the best kind of future.
Love.
EPILOGUE
THE BRIDESMAN
Jay’s face was an odd color. The guy looked ready to puke, and that was not a good vibe given the need for epic history-making kissing to happen in roughly twenty minutes by Grip’s watch.
He put both hands to Jay’s shoulders and dug his fingers into suit coat and the tight muscle underneath. “Loosen up man, this is a zero-fail event.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re green.”
Jay heaved a breath. “I’m—shit. I’m all shaky inside.”
Grip gave Jay what he hoped was a reassuring amount of manly massaging. “Like I said, it’s a sure thing.”
“Nothing, nothing is ever sure.” Jay walked out of his hold, went to the dresser and picked up a hairbrush, squeezed the handle like it was him or the brush and only one of them could survive. “We convince ourselves we’re right and safe and we plunge in and hope for the best.”
Okay, unexpected, roll with it. “If you and Evie are not a sure thing, then I have no hope getting something to stick with Mena.”
Jay’s eyes met Grip’s in the dresser mirror. Matcha, that’s the color he was. “But you and Mena are good?” Jay said.
“Yeah and you and Evie are everything I want to have with Mena.”
Grip flapped his arms, trying rid himself of the heebie-jeebies. Low fuss wedding, they’d said. He’d be the bridesmaid and the best man, he’d offered. And since Evie was giving herself away and Jay wasn’t fussed about tradition, that was the deal. Easy A. Except now, here he was negotiating with an inconveniently reluctant groom while their guests were drinking Haydn Delaney’s wine cellar dry on the fantastic pool deck of the house he shared with Evie’s bestie, Teela. “You’re wigging me out, dude.”
“So much can go wrong between two people.”
“Holy butt fuck.” Yep, said that aloud. “Is this just stage fright or are you seriously standing here thinking doomsday thoughts about marrying the fucking love of your life?”
“I—ah.” Jay tossed the dead brush aside and turned to face Grip. “What if it’s the wrong thing for her?”
Grip closed his eyes tight, shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. It
