My cock surges, desire already sinking its hooks into me. I groan and lift my head from the silky sweetness of her skin, giving her firm little ass a playful smack of my palm.
“Lunch,” I growl. “Before I decide to make an appetizer out of you.”
We work together to put the rest of the food on the table. It strikes me how natural it feels to have her here with me. How easy and relaxed it all feels. The way it just feels . . . right.
As we eat, I watch, amused and more than a little turned on, as she bites into her burger with complete abandon.
“Mmm,” she moans, closing her eyes for a moment. “This is so good.”
No dainty nibbles or false declarations that a few morsels are all she needs to sustain her. While Melanie is naturally elegant no matter what she’s doing, there’s something viscerally primal about the way she eats. I could study her doing the most mundane things and never get bored.
She must feel the weight of my stare because she abruptly glances over at me and pauses. “What is it?” She sets the half-eaten burger on her plate and picks up her napkin. “Do I have ketchup on my face?”
I chuckle, mutely shaking my head. “You’re perfect. Tell me about the classes you’re taking.”
She waves her hand in front of her face as she chews, then takes a drink from her glass. “I’m a semester away from finishing my MBA. That’s why I’m taking summer courses. The sooner I finish up, the sooner I can start looking for a full-time position in the city. Waiting tables at the diner pays the bills, but I’m not going to get ahead like that. Besides, I really want a career, something more challenging.”
“Like what?”
“Numbers come easily to me, so most likely I’ll start out interviewing with some of the big accounting firms.” When I purse my lips and take a drink of sparkling water, she tilts her head at me. “You don’t think it’s a good plan?”
I set the glass down and lean toward her. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to. You’re intelligent, creative, tenacious—”
“But what?”
“I think you should aim higher. Anyone can work at an accounting firm. You need to think bigger. What would make you happiest?”
“I like helping people. I like to think I’m making a difference in someone’s life.” She shrugs, suddenly reticent. She looks down at the napkin in her lap. “You were right, you know? When you said I need to feel indispensable. That I need to feel I matter, and that I won’t be . . . thrown away.”
My chest constricts at the reminder of that insensitive comment I made yesterday. Her quiet reminder of it now makes me feel as if I’ve just been kicked in the solar plexus. I fucking should be. “I was a prick to say that to you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
She glances up at me, her gaze tender, apologetic. “I didn’t mean any of the awful things I said about you, either. But you were right about me, Jared. I’ve been taking care of my mom and Katie because I like knowing they need me.”
“No.” I reach over and wrap my fingers around hers. “You’ve been taking care of them because you’re a good person. You’re strong and loyal, the kind of person everyone wishes they had in their life. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”
She smiles, turning her hand so our fingers are laced together. “I think you’re pretty special, too. I thought I had you figured out the moment I met you, but I was wrong. You’re so much more than you want people to believe.”
“I’m not.” I pull my hand away, uncomfortable with her praise. Especially when there are too many things she doesn’t yet know about me. Things that would bring this moment crashing down around me. “Just because I’ve given you a few spectacular orgasms, don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m not the same self-absorbed, overbearing asshole you first met.”
She slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know many self-absorbed, overbearing assholes who sponsor art programs for underprivileged kids.”
I’m shocked she remembers I told her that. Then again, nothing should shock me when it comes to her.
“Tell me about the rec center program you mentioned.” She lifts the burger and takes another bite, patiently waiting for me to speak.
“Dominic Baine’s fiancée, Avery, persuaded me to get involved in that. She and I met at Dominion gallery the same year she hooked up with Nick.”
“I know her work,” Melanie says. “She’s an incredibly talented artist.”
“Yes, she is. She’s also got a kind heart, like you. The rec center in Chelsea means everything to Nick and her. It’s the first center he built, and the one where they test out new programs and events for the kids. She’d been wanting to install an art program for a while. Not the typical paint-by-numbers bullshit kids might expect, but something to truly inspire as well as instruct.”
“It sounds amazing. What’s your role in the program?”
“I help fund it, primarily. I also call in favors and twist arms within the art world to bring in creators to talk to the kids and teach an occasional class. I have to admit, I’m proud of the people I’ve been able to introduce the kids to. These are artists the public would generally only recognize by their works on display in important galleries and museums.”
She grins. “Wow. What a self-absorbed, overbearing asshole you are, Jared.”
I chuckle, marveling at the ease with which she can draw me into her light. “If you want to know the truth, I’m doing it for Kathryn. Helping the kids at the rec center—especially good kids who just need a break, like Alyssa—makes me feel I’m doing something worthwhile. Alyssa’s got a real gift for painting. With the right guidance and opportunity, I think she could turn that natural ability
