The Randy Romance Novelist(67)

My irritation level was at an all-time high. Rosie was late; Tasha was either touching me or touching the board members, and her campaign that she unveiled today was actually good, better than I expected it to be. It made me wonder how much of it she actually did.

I spent all day running over designs, making sure everything was the way I wanted it, and spent countless hours with a knot in my stomach. I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Rosie was pregnant, and I needed to be able to provide for the both of us, for the three of us. I’d never felt so much pressure in my life, and to top it off, I had to deal with the plastic altered leech who refused to leave me alone all night.

“Oh, Eric, you’re hilarious,” she cooed, taking a sip of her champagne.

Literally everything she said, every little chuckle that came out of her mouth, to my ears, was like a drunk Sofia Vergara trying to sing the National Anthem. It wasn’t pretty . . . at all.

I ground my teeth, trying to keep the tongue lashing I wanted to give her to myself. Gripping my drink tightly, I scanned the room, looking for the one girl I wanted to drape my arm across.

There were a lot more people at the party than I expected to attend, all people I really had no interest in talking to. Normally, I was spot on when it came to networking, and I could charm the socks off any executive, but my mind was elsewhere tonight. I wanted this campaign to be over, this competition to be finished with, and I just wanted to be with Rosie, snuggled up by her side, maybe deep inside of her.

It had been way too long since I’d been able to intimately connect with her. That was going to change soon. We were going to see a doctor and get everything straightened out.

From the corner of the room where the bathrooms were located, I saw groups of people part as a beautiful brunette made her way straight toward me. She was taking tiny steps forward, as if she was a stick figure Barbie and didn’t have bendable knees. Robot like gestures flowed through her, tiny step after tiny step, and I wondered what the hell she was doing.

I tried to ignore the awkward walk she was making and took in her appearance. She was wearing an extremely tight black dress that was entirely too low cut around her breasts, which were on display for the entire room. I immediately started to feel uncomfortable from the press of my crotch against my zipper.

It’s been way too f*cking long.

Her hair was gorgeously floating around her shoulders, and her lips looked so f*cking kissable that all I wanted to do was take her home right now.

Her beautifully highlighted eyes made contact with mine and a sheepish smile crossed her face. My heart beat faster from the way she gave me the once-over. Pride beamed through my chest at the fact that this fantastically beautiful woman was mine.

Ignoring Tasha’s relentless story, I made my way toward my girl, meeting her—well, not halfway, since she took steps Papa Smurf could match.

“Love, you look stunning.” I pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first, but then melted into me. “I’ve missed you,” I whispered into her ear.

“Have you really?” Insecurity rained through her.

“Of course I have.” I placed a kiss on her temple. I pulled away and gave her one more once-over and shook my head. “I can’t believe I can call you mine. You’re so beautiful, Rosie.”

“Thank you. It’s all for you,” she said in a weirdly sexual way and then licked her teeth.

That was odd. I shook it off and said, “Would you like to say hi to Eric? You will have to say hi to Tasha, but I promise we won’t talk to her long.”

“Anything you want, big guy.” She leaned into my year and yipped . . . like a Chihuahua.

I grabbed her hand and looked her in the eyes before we went up to Eric. “Are you okay? You’re acting a little strange.”

She leaned her entire upper half against my arm, her breasts heavy and protruding. “Oh, I’m just peachy keen . . . hot sex.”

My eyebrows rose to my hairline. “What?”

Her finger pressed in my nose like a button, while she said, “You heard me, mega penis man.”

“Are you . . . are you drunk?” I asked harshly.

“Drunk in love,” she answered. She whispered seductively, “I’m clenching for you.”

I put some distance between us and straightened my suit. “Rosie, I don’t even know what that means.”

“Henry, are you going to keep your beautiful girlfriend all to yourself or are you going to let some of us old men talk to her?” Eric said, coming up behind me.

The last thing I wanted was for Eric to be talking to us, not because I was keeping Rosie to myself, but because she was acting really weird, and I was nervous as hell as to what she was going to say.

“Rosie, it’s a delight to see you,” he held out his hand and Rosie took it. Eric kindly brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You look ravishing.”

“Thank you,” she said, doing a weird curtsey. Her legs looked like she super glued them together. “You’re looking quite handsome yourself, Eric. Too bad Henry found me first.”

“A real shame,” he winked.

I didn’t like this . . . one f*cking bit.

I cleared my throat and played with the button on my suit jacket. “Yeah, I don’t like this conversation.”

Eric threw his head back and laughed a deep, throaty sound, then patted me on the shoulder. “Got yourself a little jealousy in those bones. I like it. Goes to show you know you have something good with Rosie. She’s way out of your league, you know that, right?”