Love on Lexington Avenue(53)
“They’re different smiles,” she clarified. “That last one was for the perfection of the coffee.”
“What was the first one for?”
She looked up at him, and her expression must have said it all, because he grinned. “Ah. I see. I’ve had a few of those smiles myself this morning.”
“A few? How long have you been awake?” she asked, belatedly noticing he was already dressed and ready for work. She felt a wave of embarrassment as she realized she’d been lounging in his bed while he’d been up making her coffee, preparing to go to work on her house.
“You were pretty out. I let you sleep.”
“Please tell me snoring wasn’t involved.”
This time it was Scott’s turn for a secret smile, but she didn’t press him for an answer she didn’t really want.
“I’m up,” she said, already starting to move toward the side of the bed. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Stay,” he said, putting a hand on her calf, sitting on the edge of the bed to block her path. “There’s a reason I kicked you out of your house. Today and tomorrow will be the messiest, most intrusive of the entire renovation.”
“Worse than not having a kitchen?” she fake grumbled.
“Ah, but you have my kitchen,” he countered. “You can cook to your heart’s content. I’d make something for you, but I’ve got to meet the guys I have coming over to help with the floors.”
“Right. Of course. Um, thanks again for . . .”
Letting me stay here? The mind-blowing orgasms, plural?
“The coffee,” she finished.
Scott winked as he gave her leg a quick squeeze, letting her know he knew exactly what she’d been too chicken to say.
“Make yourself at home.” He stood. “Bob’s staying with you; I don’t want her underfoot today. I already took her out this morning, but she’ll probably need to go out again before I get home tonight.”
“Home—you’re coming back here?”
He stilled for a moment, looking atypically unsure of himself. “I don’t have to. I can go to my place in Brooklyn or—”
Grateful that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t exactly know what came next, she reached out and grabbed his hand, planting an impulsive kiss against his knuckles. “Come back here.” He gave a relieved smile and bent down. Claire made a halt noise when she realized he was coming in for a kiss. She pointed at her mouth. “Not happening. Morning breath.”
He made a little grunt of ascent, kissing her forehead instead, and that was almost as good. She was learning she really liked Scott Turner forehead kisses.
Claire took another sip of coffee, smiling as she heard him say goodbye to Bob. She laughed out loud when Bob came careening into the bedroom, leaping onto the bed the second the front door closed.
“Why do I get the impression you’re not allowed up here normally?” she said as Bob nudged her hand in a blatant demand for an ear rub. Claire didn’t have the heart to kick the dog off, so they compromised—she let Bob stay on the bed until her coffee cup was empty and she needed a refill.
Claire set the mug on the nightstand, immediately bending to make the bed, then straightened, wondering if that was weird. What did one do after casual sex? She’d only had a handful of boyfriends before Brayden, and they’d always come over to her house, slept in her bed. This was new to her.
She debated for a few more seconds. Making someone else’s bed seemed strangely personal and presumptuous somehow. But then she decided not making it was just plain sloppy and inconsiderate. It’s not like she was dashing out and buying a feminine throw for the bed and squirting her perfume on the pillows.
“It was casual sex,” she told Bob. “Not a big deal.”
We’ll figure it out later.
The plan to deal with the repercussions later had seemed like a great idea last night, but it felt different in the light of day. When was later anyway? And what exactly was it, in this case? Not a relationship. Definitely not love. Was it a one-time thing? The start of a fling?
“What are we dealing with here, Bob?” She looked at the dog. “How does this work?”
Bob wagged her tail.
“You’re useless.”
Claire scrambled a couple of eggs, had another cup of coffee, and showered and primped for the day. It was only after she was dressed and applying her makeup that she realized . . .
She didn’t have anything to do. Not one damn thing.
It was not a pleasant feeling.
Claire knew for plenty of people having nothing on the agenda would be a blessing. There was no boss watching the clock for her arrival, no employees counting on her. No responsibilities, obligations, or demands on her time. Claire was well aware that not having to work, first because of Brayden’s salary, then from the life insurance money, was a luxury.
It just wasn’t a luxury she was sure she wanted.
For the first couple of years of her marriage with Brayden, Claire had worked as a brand specialist for a boutique design company. She’d enjoyed the work, but ultimately the drama of office politics had started to weigh on her. Since they hadn’t needed her income, she and Brayden had agreed she’d take some time off to figure out what she wanted to do instead.
She’d initially been thinking weeks. Just a few weeks to figure out what excited her. Weeks had turned into months. But it had been easier to keep busy when Brayden had been alive, or at least to feel busy. She’d taken pride in keeping their home clean herself, rather than hiring a housekeeper like most of her friends and neighbors. She’d shopped for groceries, ensuring their fridge always had olives for her beloved, that there was always yogurt and eggs for breakfast and food for dinner on nights they didn’t eat out or order in. Her social life had also been busier back then. She’d belonged to two book clubs, volunteered at charities, attended regular lunches and happy hours with friends.
Lauren Layne's Books
- Passion on Park Avenue (Central Park Pact #1)
- Hard Sell (21 Wall Street #2)
- Hot Asset (21 Wall Street #1)
- Hot Asset (21 Wall Street #1)
- Lauren Layne
- An Ex for Christmas
- From This Day Forward (The Wedding Belles 0.5)
- To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)
- Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly #1)
- Irresistibly Yours (Oxford #1)