Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)(26)

“Good, you’re home,” Dad said as he shut the door behind Svetlana. “Everly, it’s lovely to see you again.”

Somehow Everly was at my side, although I hadn’t seen her cross the distance between us. Svetlana eyed the two of us, her expression blank. Everly slipped her hand into mine.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Richard,” Everly said, her voice warm as summer sunshine. “Or maybe I should just call you roomie.”

Dad grinned at her, while Svetlana’s face remained impassive.

“Roomie. I like that. Just for a short time, so no need to be concerned. I don’t want to impose, or intrude on your space.”

“Of course,” she said. “There’s more than enough room. And you know Shep is happy to have you.”

“I appreciate it very much,” Dad said.

Svetlana’s eyes were on me, now, and Everly tightened her grip on my hand. Just a slight pressure, but I felt it. A subtle shift of her feet, and her body angled closer to mine. There was a certain possessiveness in her stance. I could feel it, and I had no doubt Svetlana could see it.

A pleasant sense of arousal swept through me, momentarily distracting me from the conversation. My pulse quickened and blood rushed to my groin. There was something about the way Everly quietly claimed me as hers in front of another woman that I enjoyed.

“Shep?”

I blinked, disconcerted. What had Dad said? I cleared my throat, but before I could answer, Everly rubbed her hand up and down my arm.

“Thanks, but we both had a long day and I haven’t even started to unpack.”

“Yes, of course,” Dad said. “Don’t let us keep you. I have an early appointment tomorrow, so Svetlana was only joining me for a nightcap.”

“Good night, Dad,” I said, refusing to acknowledge the harpy. “Everly?”

She squeezed my hand again and smiled at me. God, she was good at this.

Dad led Svetlana into the living room. I noticed her eying Everly’s bean bag chair. Marking territory, indeed.

Everly winked at me, then turned on her heel and walked—no, she didn’t walk. It wasn’t quite a skip, but there was a spring in her step that made her seem a little bit bouncy.

And bouncing made me think of her tits.

I cleared my throat, as if that could clear my head. This was proving to be more distracting than I’d anticipated. I went to my office and sat down with my Scotch. I’d give Everly some space while she unpacked.

We were both adults. This didn’t have to be a big deal.





11





Everly





There had been a brief respite in the substantial tension between me and Shepherd when he’d gone to his office and I’d gone to the bedroom to unpack. There were two walk-in closets—one completely empty and outfitted with shelves, drawers, and plenty of space to hang my clothes. Half the bathroom was similarly ready for my temporary occupancy. It made me wonder if he always kept his things to the left half of the bathroom, or if he’d cleared space for me.

But as the last hour of evening ticked toward bedtime, I found myself growing increasingly nervous. I kept glancing at my phone, my desire to text Nora and Hazel at war with my desire to pretend this wasn’t really starting to freak me out. In the end, the freak-out won, and I group-texted the two of them.

Me: I’m here. I unpacked. Now what do I do?

Hazel: What do you feel like doing?

Nora: What does the bathroom look like?

Me: Bathroom is gorgeous. Why?

Nora: Does it have a tub?

Me: Yes, a big one.

Hazel: What does the bathroom have to do with anything? I think Everly is bored, not in need of improved hygiene.

Nora: Take a bubble bath.

Me: That does sound nice.

Hazel: Good idea.

Nora: Leave the door open a crack and see if he peeks.

Me: No!

Nora: Why not? It’ll be fun. Bring your phone. I want live updates.

Me: Why would I do that?

Nora: Why wouldn’t you do that?

Me: Not helping, Nora. I’m sitting on the bed I have to sleep in tonight. With my BOSS.

Nora: You signed up for this, E. Bubble bath.

I sighed and put down my phone. A bath did sound nice. And his tub was enormous. My apartment only had a shower. It wasn’t often that I got to take a long, hot bath.

I went to the bedroom door and leaned out, listening. I’d heard Svetlana leave well over an hour ago, and Richard seemed to have gone to bed—or at least to his room. Shepherd was still in his office, as far as I could tell. Nora’s suggestion of a bath was sounding better and better. I needed to relax, or I’d never get to sleep.

The bathroom really was gorgeous. Gray and blue tile. Fluffy white towels. Everything sparkled. I turned down the lights for ambiance—they were on a dimmer, which made me wonder why all bathrooms didn’t have lights on a dimmer—and turned on the water.

I set my phone on the ledge next to the bathtub. Of course I wasn’t going to leave the door open and live-text Nora and Hazel. That was just silly. I just wanted my phone for something to do while I soaked.

But then again, it was getting awfully steamy with the water running. Maybe leaving the door open a tiny crack was a good idea. Just to make sure there wasn’t too much moisture. It would have been a shame to create a mildew issue in this beautiful bathroom.