The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(84)

Minutes passed before Shannon turned to look at me. "Okay, so now that the heavy shit is out of the way, what the hell happened to you this week? Marisa? Office space? Monday's meeting? Do you actually doubt my investment strategy, or are you a massive dickhead?"

"Massive dickhead." I studied Andy's movements as she spoke to Tom, following her precise gestures and eager nods that encouraged him to continue speaking. He was definitely growing a beard for her, and chances were high that he'd be Instragramming photos of oddly shaped radishes at Whole Foods by Monday.

"I'd rather not hire another assistant, considering the past five have walked out claiming PTSD. I mean, seriously, dude. I don't have time for that shit. Do you think I sit around all day looking for combat-tested personal assistants?"

"I know, I know," I sighed. Andy was sipping a mixed drink, and the desire to find out what it was and hear all about the factors leading to that decision struck me. "Maybe I don't need an assistant. Andy's running a lot of projects now. I need someone to handle my calls and calendar. And manage my expenses."

"Maybe Tom can—"

"No," I interrupted. By my watch, Tom had five minutes before I was firing him and his beard. "I…I think Tom's busy enough with you. Maybe Theresa can help."

"Sure," Shannon said. "She handled Angus, after all, and Matt's a field of daisies in comparison. But you have to know—she doesn't take any shit."

"Yeah, that's because she knows what she's doing. She wouldn't have let that copier jam for four days, and she wouldn't have let me try to take it apart. She's the only reason Angus wasn't a homeless bum."

"All right," Shannon said, indicating the conversation was over. "I'll handle it Monday. But if anyone else walks out because you're a massive dickhead, I cannot be held accountable for my reactions, and my reactions will involve taking off my shoes and beating you with them."

She nodded and walked away from the window seat, leaving me to continue watching Andy. After fetching a fresh beer from the refrigerator, I returned to see Tom leaving the apartment alone. The thrill of getting him out of the picture was short lived when I realized I didn't see Andy, and without much consideration for what I intended to do, I went looking for her. Shannon's home office and guest bedroom were both dark and vacant.

Back in the hall, I stared at the closed door to Shannon's bedroom. She didn't like me going in her space as a kid, and I sincerely doubted she would be happy to find me there now. As I weighed my desire to locate Andy against my fear of Shannon and her sharp heels, a hand shot out from the bathroom, hooked my elbow, and dragged me inside.

"You've been staring at me for two hours." Andy crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the sink. It was an observation delivered with the same tenor she used to order an iced green tea. Lemon, no sweeteners.

God, I wanted her. I wanted all of her, and I knew at that moment I'd give up most anything to get out of my Bermuda Triangle and have her.

"Yeah, I was wondering…did you decide if you have room in your weekend for fried clams?"

"I don't know yet."

"When will you know?" I asked.

"When you tell me why you have me under surveillance."

I glanced at the expanse of bare skin from the plunging neckline of her sweater up to her jaw, and I remembered the way her body reacted to my teeth on her ear. Setting my beer bottle down, I pushed away from the wall and approached Andy until we were a breath apart.

I shrugged. "I stare because you don't give me much else." My knuckles grazed her upper arm and I waited for her to push me away or tell me to stop.

"You walked away from me," she said hotly, her head cocked.

That was how she saw it? Fantastic.

I lifted my hands to her face and kissed her, pouring all of my frustration and misery and desire into the tangle of our lips. I tasted the tart cherriness of Andy. My hands went to her hair, angling her head to take more, taste more, tell more. I needed her to know everything I wasn't able to put into words, all the things I couldn't explain or understand myself.

It wasn't enough to weave my fingers through her hair and consume her mouth. I wanted her skin in my hands. Her waist was slim and silken where my fingers kneaded her beneath her sweater. She must have craved the same contact because her fingers slipped between my sweater and shirt. As she pried open the buttons of my shirt, her touch was a searing reminder of what I missed this past week.

Breaking our connection, I gazed into Andy's heated eyes and smiled when I saw her beautiful and flustered. She was different, at once dark and light, and a warm flush hinted at her cheeks.

"There you are," I whispered, my hands framing her face, my thumbs stroking her delicate cheekbones.

"I've been here the whole time."

"No," I murmured. "No, you don't let me see you."

Andy's lips pulled into that tiny smile, and she wrapped her hand around the nape of my neck, drawing me to her and capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss. Her lips communicated more in one kiss than any combination of words. She wanted this.

She wanted me.

My hips pinned her against the sink, but it wasn't enough. I needed her to know how much I wanted her. I palmed her ass and Andy roped her arms around my neck when I lifted her off the ground and backed her against the wall. Her legs coiled around my waist and she flexed against my erection, and we groaned at the sensation sparking between us. Her nails bit into my neck, unleashing a fine tremor of pleasure over my nerves when our lips met again.