Passion on Park Avenue (Central Park Pact #1)(71)

“So.” She turned and faced him. “Um.”

He smiled. “You don’t have to.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I just meant you don’t have to say anything,” he said, setting his mug aside and coming toward her. “I’m not boyfriend material. Not right now.”

He stopped, setting a hand to her cheek. “No regrets about last night. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whispered, turning her cheek into his hand and closing her eyes, relishing his scent. His warmth.

He kissed her softly, before stepping back. “See you around, Naomi.”

She swallowed, a little puzzled to realize there was a lump in her throat. “See you.”

Naomi left his apartment and walked woodenly down the hall. Blindly, she climbed into the shower, hoping the warm water would wash away the sense that this was all wrong. That she was being an idiot.

And that maybe he was, too, for not having the courage to ask someone to stick with him. To tell him he was worth the sacrifices that came with his situation.

When she realized she was being an idiot, Naomi hurriedly shut off the water. She dried her hair in record time, tugged on yoga pants, and pulled on Oliver’s college T-shirt once more.

Two minutes later, she was out the door, five minutes after that, she was at the grocery store, then back to her apartment to pick up the bottle of cheap champagne she kept in the fridge.

It was just before ten when she knocked on Walter’s door with the toe of her sneaker, since her arms were full of grocery bags and a bouquet of confetti roses she’d bought on a whim.

Oliver opened the door, his expression nonplussed. “Naomi? What are you doing here?” Automatically he reached out to take one of the bags. “What’s all this stuff?”

“Eggs. Hash browns. Bacon. Some sort of cinnamon bread that looked too delicious to pass up. Orange juice and bubbly, because what’s a brunch without mimosas,” she said, pushing past the stunned man.

She went on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You couldn’t go to brunch, so I brought brunch to you. And Walter. Good morning, Walter,” she said, turning and seeing him in his favorite easy chair by the TV.

He glanced over, lifted his hand in greeting. “Naomi.”

She smiled at Oliver. “See? Off to a good start. Okay, how are your scrambled eggs skills? Mine are mediocre, but I’m really good with bacon—”

Oliver hauled her toward him, cutting off her bacon bragging with a searing kiss.

It was long and hard, and loaded with emotion. They were both breathing hard when he pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. “Thank you.”

She brushed her mouth over his softly. “You’re welcome. Now feed me?”

He grinned in response, off-loading the rest of the bags as she went to search for a vase for the flowers. “Walter, how do you like your bacon? You a crispy kind of guy?”

“Sausage. You got any sausage?”

“Work with me here, Walter,” she said, giving the man an exasperated look.

He looked over and smiled, and Naomi was surprised to feel herself smile back.

This wasn’t even remotely close to how Naomi had envisioned her relationship with the Cunningham men.

And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so . . . happy.





MONDAY, NOVEMBER 5

Yes, I know it’s last minute. Yes, I understand—nope, absolutely understand your agency prefers twenty-four hours’ notice . . . yep, and I appreciate you making an exception. Yes, six o’clock tonight would be perfect.”

Oliver spent another minute groveling on the phone with the caretaking agency before making another phone call, this time to one of his favorite restaurants that he hadn’t been to in . . . way too long.

Sure, Monday nights weren’t the most popular date nights, but he wanted to surprise Naomi. To show her that he could meet her halfway, to find a way to make them work.

The woman had gone above and beyond. First with brunch yesterday, not even batting an eye when it had devolved into an expected tantrum from Walter. Then this afternoon when Oliver had gotten hung up with a client at the same time Janice had a sudden, severe tooth pain, Naomi had casually offered to stay with Walter so Janice could get to the dentist.

Just like that, as if it were no big deal. As if they were partners in this, even though he had no right to ask it of her so soon in the relationship.

Oliver knew he was dangerously close to falling in love with the woman, and the only thing holding him back was the nagging sense that she was holding back.

That was what tonight was for. Just the two of them. Nice wine. Fancy clothes. No hard-boiled eggs. Not even puzzles.

To give them a chance, he needed to get them beyond the walls of 517 Park Avenue, to show her—to show himself—that they could make it in the real world.

After making dinner reservations, he made one more call, this time to Naomi. She didn’t pick up, which wasn’t all that surprising, considering his dad frequently demanded all of someone’s attention.

He nearly sent her a text, letting her know that he’d gotten alternate care for the evening, since Janice—on pain pills following an emergency root canal—would likely be ill-equipped to deal with Walter.

He decided instead to surprise her, stopping on his way home to get her flowers. She’d insisted on leaving the roses from yesterday at his place to “brighten it up,” and he wanted something for her place—a congratulations on the new office.