All for You (Paris Nights #1)(36)

She nodded vigorously.

His face relaxed into a smile. “Then it works for me, too.”





Chapter 14


“I’ll take it,” Joss said. Hell, he couldn’t believe his luck. Sixty square meters and with a view right on Célie’s favorite park, the park where he’d kissed her for the very first time. The place where he’d known: Yes. She was going to forgive him, and this was going to work out.

And it was an utter dump, so the owner, who had inherited it from an old aunt who passed away, wanted to get it off his hands as quickly as possible, meaning that Joss could buy it cheap, remodel it, and flip it for a great profit, if Célie decided she’d rather live in Tahiti after all.

Something physical for him to do. Something for him to build, accomplish. Clear out the trash, get rid of the rotting floorboards. The bathroom needed a total remodel, the kitchen was like some nightmare out of a haunted house from the fifties, and he’d bet that plaster covered up some gorgeous old brick, given the age of the building and the Belleville location. There was even a fireplace, which he could keep, if Célie wanted to stay in Paris, or break and remove to add an extra square meter to the surface area—and thus tens of thousands of euros to the apartment’s market value—if he resold.

He’d build a full wall of shelving into the walls here, to maximize storage space, remove the old bath entirely and replace it with a luxury shower, open up the kitchen and put down … had those been granite or marble counters upstairs in Dom’s shop? He’d figure out a way to get her to tell him what she preferred, without letting her know what he was doing.

And then, when he had it beautiful, perfect, the most perfect apartment she could ever imagine … he’d show it to her.

And her face would light up, and she’d run her hand over those granite—or marble—counters, and she’d run to the big windows that gave her a view onto her park and the Eiffel Tower. She’d bounce the hell all over the apartment, she’d be so happy.

See? You were right about me, Célie. I can do anything. Even give you this.

And then, maybe, she’d cuddle up with him on a … really comfy couch.

Yes. Definitely a big, deep couch.

“I’ll take it,” he repeated. “Let’s get the paperwork started.”

Célie was going to love this.

As soon as he got it into a shape that he could be proud to offer her. He was damn well not showing her the dump it was right now.

***

As soon as Célie spied Joss through the window the next day, happiness leapt inside her. He was in his spot, over there to the right. His leaning stance held a lot more hardness to it these days, though, hard not just in the presence of muscles, since he’d been in great shape before he left, but in the way those muscles seemed ready for anything.

She finished up, cleaning chocolate off her hands, changing out of her chef’s jacket into a sexy, sleeveless, cream-colored silk top that draped with affectionate looseness against the curves of her body down to graze over some butt-clinging leather pants. She jumped up and down in the bathroom to try to get a glimpse of her butt in the small mirror over the sink, hoping this outfit looked as good on her as it was supposed to, but the glimpse was far too inadequate.

She poked her head out. “Have you ever thought about installing a full-length mirror in this bathroom?” she called to Dom.

He glowered at her. “No.”

“Can I organize the workers and go on strike until we get one?”

Dom stared at her.

“And a makeup mirror,” Célie said. “Or at least proper lighting. Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve put up with these working conditions so long.” Apparently she hadn’t been that worried about what someone else thought of her post-work appearance before this.

Dom groaned and swung back to his work, muttering about how “this kind of thing never happens to Sylvain.” Célie grinned, grabbed the box of chocolates she had made and slipped it in her messenger bag, then ran down the stairs and across the street.

Joss jerked away from the wall in what almost seemed the start of a hard lunge toward her, as she darted across, but he caught himself and stilled on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for her.

She sank into happiness until it was slowing her down, until it was like too much caramel and she was an ant trying to make her way across it. It bogged up her feet, it pulled her under, until by the time she reached him, she’d remembered why an ant should never get close to caramel in the first place. The infinity of sweetness might seem like paradise, but that was before your six little feet got caught in it and you ended up smushed and limp, all the life sucked out of you. Like last time.


Joss let out a fast breath as she stopped in front of him, his gaze going quickly up and down the street to either side of her, checking high and low, and then back to her.

Célie went up on tiptoes to kiss him on each cheek, feeling solemn, as if she was re-opening a long-abandoned ritual: Joss waiting for her after work, as she danced across the street to him and kissed him on each cheek and they walked home together, and she was full of happiness just to be in his company and nobody messed with her.

Joss turned his head and caught her lips with his, his hands closing around her hips to pull her in closer to him.

Oh.