My So-Called Sex Life (How to Date, #1)(51)

She smiles softly. “Thanks.” I’m about to turn around and resume our race to the dining car when she reaches for my arm. It’s a friendly gesture, nothing that could be interpreted as more by anyone watching. But I feel the fondness in it. The heat too. “And I’m really glad your balls aren’t casted. Because,” she says quietly, then checks the scene behind her before she finishes with, “I want you in my bed again tonight.”

Fuck yes.

That’s enough of a ground rule for me for now. Another night.

“I’m there,” I say.

I might want more than sex, but I’m nothing if not a realist. I’ll take what she’s offering, and I’ll give her another night of the best she’s ever had.

As an attendant yanks open the door to the dining car for us, I wipe the smile off my face. A man doesn’t smile this hard unless he’s gotten laid, and I’m not going to sandwich-board my sex life for the tour group—my sex life that just earned a sequel.

I fucking love trains.

Inside the dining car, a man with an expensive haircut, a strong jaw, and clearly custom-fitted slacks and shirt greets us. “Good morning, Mr. Huxley and Ms. Valentine. We’re thrilled you could join us.”

This dude has rich motherfucker written all over him. He must be JHB himself. “Thrilled to be here…Mr. Bettencourt?”

His dark eyes twinkle. “Yes. J. Hudson Bettencourt.”

When he gestures for us to follow him to the table, I shoot a look at Hazel like wow. Her eyes pop open, and she mouths oh my god.

This is unexpected, seeing the reclusive guy himself, but maybe he’s one of those billionaires who likes to show up unannounced, though I don’t actually know what billionaires like to do.

He’s the first one I’ve met.

“Here’s your table,” he says, stopping at one full of readers.

“Thank you so much,” I say.

Hazel seconds the sentiment.

Then he joins Amy at a table. Shortly after, she pops up and cups her mouth. “And this morning is our special reader brunch where we dive into readers’ favorite question—where ideas come from. But first, enjoy your breakfast, everyone.”

JHB seems to be enjoying his meal once Amy joins him at the table in the corner. He’s attentive, focused on her the whole time.

I catch Hazel’s eyes as we eat, tipping my forehead toward them, asking silently, What do you think is up?

“Get it, Amy,” Hazel whispers, with a crystal-clear answer.

“The billionaire and the single mom,” I add.

“Meant to be.”

We’re seated again with the Book Besties, Nikon Man, and Redhead College Girl, and once we’ve finished eating, Jackie sets down her coffee cup and declares, “I’m ready for my first question.”

After a glance to check that I’m ready too, Hazel tells the woman, “Go for it.”

Jackie holds up her hands as if to show she’s unarmed before she starts in. “Look. I’m one of those people who doesn’t mince words. I don’t hold back. I say what’s on my mind.” Jackie’s normally enthusiastic, happy-go-lucky, so this intense side of her is new. “And I want to know if Lacey is ever going to get together with—”

I brace myself for what’s coming next. Will Lacey and Nate, the rich dude down the hall, ever get it on? Our readers had been shipping the ER doc and the broody suit ever since we pubbed our first co-written romance.

“With Noah?” Jackie asks.

I did not see that coming.

Noah? The doctor Lacey works with? For real?

Hazel snaps her gaze to Jackie, mirroring my confusion. “Noah?”

With an emphatic nod, Jackie says, “Yes. I always saw her with the cute-but-surly ER doc. Noah’s sarcastic, but in a way that you could tell he had it bad for her all along.”

What is she talking about? Noah does not have a thing for Lacey. Noah’s just her annoying work colleague.

I scratch my chin, confused, looking to Hazel for her thoughts.

Apparently, this character matchmaking is shocking to her too, since she’s shaking her head. Then she asks, “You think Noah has been into Lacey?”

Jackie nods, big and long. Maria chimes in next with an oh yes.

But Alecia tuts her friends, before she says to us, “I’ve got a dinner at Ruth’s Chris Steak House that says these two are wrong, so could you please, please, pretty please with a well-done ribeye on top write the dang book with Lacey and Nate? So I can say I was right, I was right, I was right.”

I flash a smile at Hazel, who flings one right back at me. They say in our secret writer code that the readers are wrong but we don’t want to be rude to them. We mastered the signals when we worked together.

Funny to be using it again.

Though, funny’s not the right word. More like warm, or even…comforting.

“Those are the three most satisfying words in the English language,” I say, deflecting for both of us. I’m not going to tell the Book Besties that they’re dead wrong about Lacey’s love interest. We were writing her with Nate, not Noah.

But Lacey’s fictional guy hardly matters since her book is dead.

I’m relieved that Steven the Nikon Man has no interest in Ten Park Avenue. He motions me closer once the servers have cleared the table. His wife must have taken off, since he’s alone. “Been dying to ask you something. It’s about the scene in Vienna in A Beautiful Midnight when the hero races through the city center on his Vespa.”