The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(80)

I stare at her. Oh jeez. What the fuck is this bullshit? “Umm.” I look at the dresses on the rack.

“What makes you come alive and feel sexy?” the brunette gushes. “When are you living your best life?”

Oh, Jesus . . . not this. “I’ll just”—I gesture to the rack of clothes—“see what I like.”

I begin to flick through the dresses. Wow . . . they’re all beautiful.

“Anything you like, sweetheart?” I hear Jameson’s deep voice purr from behind me.

I turn to see him with a white towel around his waist. His hair is wet, and his tanned muscles are bulging. He looks fucking edible.

The two bimbos’ eyes bulge from their sockets. “Hello, Mr. Miles,” they both stammer as their eyes drop down his body.

“Hello.” He smiles sexily.

I look at him deadpan. Is he for real? “I’m not sure. I like everything,” I snap as I turn back to the rack.

In a fucking towel . . . what next?

Ugh.

He comes behind me and puts one hand on my hip as he goes through the rack. “We’ll take this one, this one . . . this one.” He scans the rest of the rack. “And all of these from here on.”

“Yes, sir,” they both gush.

His eyes go over the shoes and lingerie they have laid out on the coffee table.

“We’ll take all of the lingerie and whatever shoes Emily chooses.” His eyes come to me, and he smiles and leans in and kisses me. “Done.”

The two women hold their breath as they watch.

His hand drops to my behind, and he gives me a firm squeeze. “Nice to meet you, girls,” he says before he saunters up the hall for his massage.

I turn back to the girls as they watch him disappear in awe.

Good grief.

I think I just met the real Jameson Miles . . . in all his glory.





Chapter 17

I stir the mushroom sauce with my mind in overdrive.

Jameson’s different . . . I’m talking Twilight Zone different. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or the beginning of the end for us. Just when I get used to his old weirdness, he ups the ante.

The masseuse has just left, and he’s in the shower again as he washes the oil off. I’m not going in there because we will end up having sex, and dinner is nearly ready . . . and I want to talk to him without my arousal high clouding my brain cells.

It happens a lot with him.

He walks back out in his towel, and his eyes find me across the room. He gives me a slow, sexy smile.

“Can you not walk around in a towel when we have visitors, please?” I snap.

He smirks.

“Those two ditzy shoppers are at home going to town on their vibrators at this very moment as they picture you in that white towel.” I roll my eyes. “Living their”—I hold my fingers up to accentuate my point—“best life.”

He chuckles as he takes me in his arms. “Jealous?”

“Yes, I am, actually. I don’t like other women looking at you. It makes me stabby,” I snap as I stir the sauce. “Cut it out with the sexy smiling around other women too.”

His lips come to my neck as he holds me from behind, and I can feel his erection up against my behind. “Let’s go to bed.”

“No, you’re eating first.” I point to the kitchen counter. “Sit.”

His eyes dance in delight, and he does as he’s told. I place his dinner in front of him. “Hmm, looks good.” He smiles.

I sit beside him and watch him for a moment as he eats. “Why did you ask Alan to move my stuff in here?”

He chews his steak. “Because I want you to move in.”

“Since when? We haven’t discussed this at all.”

“Yes, we have.” He swallows his food. “We talked about it this morning.”

“When?” I frown.

“When I told you that I wanted to do this, and you said me too.”

I stare at him, my mind a clusterfuck of confusion. “Jameson, doing this is in my mind holding hands in public and dating. Maybe meeting each other’s families.”

He frowns as he watches me.

“What’s with the sudden change? Last week you got angry with me for falling in love with you. I couldn’t even look at you after sex without you getting upset with me.”

He sips his wine, obviously annoyed. “You said you didn’t love me. Are you saying that now you do?”

“That’s not the point. You know what I mean.”

“I want us to make a go of it.” He shrugs. “So today I moved forward with my plans.”

“Plans?” I frown. “I’m not a business transaction, Jameson. You don’t move forward with your plans without talking to me first. They aren’t just your plans, you know.”

He clenches his jaw, unimpressed, as his eyes hold mine.

“There are two people in this relationship, Jay, and me loving you does not mean you get to take me over.”

“I know that,” he snaps. “So you do love me now? Make up your mind, woman.”

“Stop changing the subject. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“Yes, Emily.” He sighs as if he’s getting lectured by the school principal.