Forever With Me

  I wave back and breathe a deep sigh of relief when I turn the corner into my complex. I hate exercising. I hate wearing sneakers. I hate sweating.

  And I have the ass and hips to show for it.

  I mentally shrug and press the button for the elevator as Train’s “Hey Soul Sister” beats in my ears.

  Now, this I like. I could dance all day. Since I’m alone in the elevator, I cut a rug of my own and boogie around the inside of the car, then come to a complete stop and school my features just as the door opens, in case someone is standing on the other side waiting to get in.

  My dance moves are best enjoyed in private. I’m no Meredith Summers.

  “There you are!” Emily exclaims and shoves her phone in her handbag. She’s leaning against my door.

  “Why are you at my condo at the ass crack of dawn?” I ask, as I unlock the door and step inside, Emily on my heels.

  “We have two baby showers and an old lady party today.”

  “Red Hat Society party,” I reply, and toe off my sneakers as soon as humanly possible. “How can people wear those?”

  “The sister of the mom-to-be at party number one has already called me three times this morning,” Emily continues. “The MTB is allergic to watermelon.”

  “We’re not serving watermelon.” I roll my eyes and strip out of my yoga pants and Blake’s old Mariners T-shirt and walk past Emily to my shower. “It’s going to be fine. All of the details are in place for all three parties.”

  “I know, I just figured that if I’m getting calls at the butt crack of dawn, I might as well be with you when I get them.”

  “That’s kind of you,” I mutter, and step into the shower.

  “How was Will yesterday?” Emily yells out from my vanity where she’s primping her hair.

  “He was hungry, as usual,” I reply with a laugh.

  “And Dominic?”

  I pause mid-shave on my leg and frown at the foggy shower door. “How did you know I saw Dominic?”

  “Because you’re almost chipper this morning. Blake doesn’t do that to you.”

  “I’m always chipper,” I lie, and return to shaving my legs.

  “No, you’re not. I love this eye shadow! So? Was Dominic sexy or what?”

  Sexy like you wouldn’t even believe.

  “He’s okay, if you like that sort of thing.”

  Emily busts up laughing, and I can’t help but smile with her.

  Who doesn’t like that sort of thing?

  ***

  “Old ladies are better than emotional pregnant women any day of the week,” Emily whispers to me as she passes by, refilling the ladies’ teacups with fresh hot water.

  We are at our third and final event of the day, a late tea with a local Red Hat Society chapter. Eight women are in attendance today, ranging in age from roughly fifty-five to one hundred and five.

  And Wilma, the one-oh-five year old is a spitfire.

  “I pinched his rear!” she crows and cackles with glee, her wide-brimmed hat shading her happy face. The party is under a tent to keep the heat off the women, and the hostess, Miss Kitty, also rented portable air conditioners for the event.

  “Oh, my goodness, Wilma, he’s at least twenty years younger than you!” Betty, Wilma’s younger sister, laughs and sips her tea daintily.

  “You get to be my age, they’re all twenty years younger than me. I’ve gotta get my fun where I can.”

  I smile as I place a fresh plate of scones on the table.

  “These scones are delicious,” Wilma comments and takes my hand in hers, holding on tight. “You’re a doll to bring them for us, Alecia.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” I reply with a smile and rub her delicate shoulder with my free hand. “Are you all having fun, ladies?”

  “Oh, yes!” All of the women, in their pretty red hats and purple dresses nod and smile, and if I’m being honest, this is the kind of party I like the very best.

  “Well, we have surprises for you this month.” I nod at Emily who rolls out a cart full of pretty purple gift bags with red tissue paper as the women all gasp in excitement.

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Leona, a sweet seventy-something woman with mocha skin, perfectly coifed hair, and bright red lipstick smiles like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “I know that, but you are my favorite ladies, so I thought we’d bring you something extra special.”

  “Is it that Fifty Shades book?” Miss Kitty asks eagerly.

  “Uh, no,” I reply, and bite my lip to keep from laughing as Emily and I pass out the bags.

  “I’ve been listening to that on audio,” Miss Kitty informs her guests. “That Christian Grey is something to write home about.”

  “My kids bought me one of those e-readers for Christmas,” a lady named Beth adds. “I love it. This way I can read all of those naughty books and no one is any the wiser.” She nods conspiratorially with Miss Kitty, then all the ladies turn their attention to their bags.

  “Go ahead and open them.”

  The women dig in and come out with beautiful, hand-dyed red and purple silk scarves.

  “I know it’s summer, so you probably won’t get to wear them for a little while, but I just couldn’t resist.”

  “Oh honey, they’re gorgeous!” Wilma exclaims, immediately wrapping hers around her neck. “I’m always cold. I have poor circulation.” She winks at me and then gestures for me to lean in and give her a hug.

  “I have a date tonight!” Leona announces. “I’ll wear my lovely new scarf.”

  “Who’s the lucky guy?” Emily asks.

  “Ed Brenner,” she replies. “He volunteers at the historical society with me, and after making him wait for a while, I finally said yes to dinner.”

  “Good for you,” I tell her happily.

  “How about you, honey?” Wilma asks. “Do you have a date tonight?”

  I turn wide eyes on Emily, who just smiles and waits for me to answer with the others.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “I have a very handsome grandson,” Wilma replies. “He’s sixty, though, so that might be a bit too old for you.”

  “Just a bit,” I reply with a laugh.

  “My grandson is thirty,” Miss Kitty says with a thoughtful look on her face. “He’s going through a messy divorce and has three kids, but I think you two would get along wonderfully.”

  Not even if it were Armageddon and he was the last man on Earth.

  “Oh, no thank you.”

  “So, you’re just going to go home alone tonight?” Wilma asks with a sad face.

  “Well, no, I’ll be spending the evening with Ben and Jerry,” I reply.

  “She reads the naughty books too,” Miss Kitty says behind her hand to her sister, not bothering to be quiet.

  If only my sex life were really that interesting.

  ***

  He’s going to be late.

  I check the time on my phone for the fifteenth time in the past twenty minutes and scowl.

  I hate late.

  The front door of the Starbucks near my condo swings open and I glance up. My jaw drops and my mouth goes dry at the sight of Dominic as he pulls his sunglasses off his face and scans the small coffee shop for me, his blue eyes heating when they rest on me.

  He’s in a black T-shirt and jeans. The kind of jeans that mold around firm thighs and a tight ass and make a girl forget how to think.

  Damn, what this man does to a pair of jeans. I rarely see him in jeans.

  It’s a sight to behold.

  “You’re almost late,” I inform him, as he approaches my table, making his lips twitch.

  “But not quite,” he replies, and leans in to kiss my cheek, then places a bag on the floor by his chair. “Do you mind if I order a quick coffee?”

  “Not at all,” I reply, and fist my hands in my lap so I don’t reach up and cover my cheek where his lips just were. I’m like a freaking lovesick teenager.

  Check that. Horny teenager.
r />   It’s disgusting.

  I pull my notes up on my iPad and read through them while Dom orders his coffee and returns to me, carrying two cups, and places one next to me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Your tea,” he replies and sips his coffee.

  “How did you know what I drink?”

  “I asked the barista,” he replies with a smile. “Not a coffee drinker?”

  “I hate it,” I reply with a shrug. “I prefer strong tea with honey.”

  “So noted,” he replies softly. “How’s your head?”

  I tilt my head and watch him for a moment. “Headache’s all gone. Your magical leaves worked.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “There’s no magic. My grandmother used to do that for us.”

  “Us?” I ask before I can catch myself. What happened to keeping this strictly professional?

  “My two cousins and myself. We all lived on my grandparent’s vineyard.”

  “In Tuscany.”

  “In Tuscany.” He nods and takes my hand in his, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and laces his fingers with mine.

  “I’m sure it’s beautiful there.” My eyes are locked on our hands.

  Pull away, Alecia Marie. Right now.

  “Mm.”

  My eyes find his again and I have to blink and shake my head to pull myself out of his trance.

  This man is potent.

  I pull away and return to my iPad. “So, we need to go over the vendors for the wedding.”

  “I’d like a list of the vendor’s employees as well,” he replies without missing a step.

  “Why?”

  “I want my security team to run background checks.”

  “That’s not necessary—”

  “Yes. It is.” He holds my gaze firmly. “This is my family, Alecia. My very public, wealthy, celebrity family. I have hired security, and they will run background checks on all of the vendors. Even you.”

  “Me?!” I toss my head back and laugh. “I’ve been working with the Montgomery and Williams families for two years.”

  “Why is that?” he asks and the smile immediately leaves my face.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I think it’s a valid question.”

  “I think it’s an asshole question.”

  He quirks a brow. “If you like.”

  I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, all warm and fuzzy feelings toward Dom out the damn window.

  “I work for them because I do a damn good job of it. I know their preferences, and I have a good relationship with them, especially the girls. I’m not star struck by them and I don’t allow my staff to be. I like them, damn it, so if you think I’d hire vendors that would put any of them at risk—”

  “I didn’t say you would.”

  “But you think I continue to work for them because, what, it gives me a rush to work with celebrities? Let me fill you in, Mr. Salvatore, I plan weddings and events for politicians, professional athletes, actors, and owners of Fortune 500 companies you can’t even pronounce the names of.”

  “I’m quite good with languages, actually.”

  “Screw you. Do you think they’d continue hiring me if I wasn’t excellent at what I do?”

  “No.”

  He’s perfectly calm, sipping his coffee while I rail at him, pissed and offended, and it occurs to me that it was a test.

  I deflate and brace my head in my hands.

  “I passed that test, I take it?”

  “With flying colors, yes.”

  I glance through my fingers to find him grinning at me.

  “You’re not funny.”

  “I enjoyed that.” He shrugs, his muscles straining under his T-shirt. His arms are tanned and strong, his hands long-fingered and I can’t help but wonder if he plays the piano.

  “Do you play the piano?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You have hands for it.”

  “That’s not all my hands are good at.”

  I bite my lip and continue to stare at his hands as he runs the very tips of his fingers up and down his coffee mug.

  I bet those hands are good at lots of things.

  “Did you also hire your own security?” he asks.

  “Mm.”

  “Excuse me?” He chuckles, and I blush furiously.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’ll have the head of my security contact them so they can coordinate.”

  “I’m going to want to meet with both teams next Friday on the site and go through the choreography of it all. Nothing can fuck this up.”

  “Agreed.” He pulls a muffin out of a brown paper bag and peels the paper off the bottom, then passes me half of it. “Here.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Did you have breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “Here.”

  I sigh and take the muffin from him, knowing that arguing is futile. “Thanks.”

  “I hope you like chocolate.”

  “I’m female.” I chuckle and take a bite of the delicious pastry. “It’s in my DNA to enjoy chocolate.”

  “I have a wine that goes perfectly with a nice dark chocolate.”

  “I know. The late harvest Cabernet Sauvignon. You don’t bottle much of it.”

  He narrows his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee before responding. “You know your wine.”

  “I do. I love wine, but it’s also part of my job. I can’t serve bad wine at events.”

  He reaches down and pulls the bag onto the table and sets it before me.

  “For you.”

  Inside is the limited edition white wine that I covet every summer.

  “Oh,” I breathe, stunned. “I love this.”

  “I know.”

  I glance up in surprise.

  “When I brought it to Brynna and Caleb’s wedding last summer you practically drooled over it.”

  “It’s so great. I try to order some every summer. I’ll share this with Emily.”

  “Who’s Emily?”

  “My assistant. This is her favorite too.”

  He runs his forefinger over his bottom lip. “I’m sure I can find a bottle for her as well.”

  “Thank you.” How am I supposed to resist a man who brings me my favorite wine and is generous enough to offer the same to my staff?

  “When are you going to come out to the vineyard to work?” he asks quietly.

  I’ve been avoiding this. I love his vineyard. And I’m attracted to him. And that’s just not a combination that makes me comfortable.

  But he’s right. I have to go out there.

  “Does Wednesday work? You don’t have to show me around. I’m sure you have staff who can help me out.”

  “I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of,” he replies noncommittally.

  “Thanks. Well, I have another meeting in Seattle in an hour, so I should go.”

  “Of course.” He stands and holds his hand out for mine, helping me to my feet. “Do you need directions to the vineyard?”

  “No, I know where it is.”

  He nods and holds the door open for me.

  “Where are you parked?”

  “Oh, there wasn’t any parking when I got here, so I’m a block over. You don’t have to walk me.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  “You’re rather stubborn, aren’t you?” I ask, as we walk toward my SUV.

  “That’s what mama always said,” he replies with a laugh. “But she also taught me to make sure a woman reached her destination safely.”

  And, queue the butterflies.

  “Chivalry isn’t dead after all,” I mutter.

  “It shouldn’t be.”

  I unlock the doors and he opens the driver’s side for me, leans in to lay the wine on the passenger seat, and takes in the back of my packed vehicle.

  “What do you have in there, cara? It’s packed.”

  “Decorations, samples. Stuff. I never know when I
might need something.”

  He turns back to me with a smile, but when his eyes catch mine, his face sobers. He reaches toward me and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, then gently cups my jaw in his palm and lightly traces circles on my cheek. My nipples pucker, my breathing increases, and he licks his lips as his eyes drop to my mouth.

  He’s going to kiss me. I lean in, just an inch, craving his lips on mine, yet knowing this is such a bad idea.

  The worst idea ever.

  I don’t want him to kiss me.

  I so want him to fucking kiss me.

  But rather than tip his face down to mine, he backs away, takes a deep breath, and gently pulls his fingers away from my face, leaving me yearning for him.

  “I’ll see you Wednesday, cara.”

  I bite my lip in disappointment, but offer him a quick grin.

  “Wednesday.”

  And with that, he turns and walks back the way we came, his hands in his pockets, those jeans moving deliciously over his ass and his black T-shirt showing off every muscle in his back and shoulders and every part of me is screaming for him.

  Such a bad idea.

  Chapter Four

  “Good morning,” I say with a smile as I answer my phone via the bluetooth on my car.

  “Hi Alecia, it’s Meg.”

  “How are you today?” I ask and change lanes. The traffic on Interstate 5 is surprisingly light this morning heading south. I’m just passing by Fort Lewis, and with each passing mile, I keep getting more nervous.

  This is a welcome distraction.

  “I’m stressed out. Why didn’t anyone tell me that getting married was such a pain in the ass? I should have just followed Leo’s lead and gotten married in Vegas.”

  “Getting married in Vegas suited Leo and Sam, but I don’t think that’s your style.” Meg’s mega rock star brother, Leo, married his long-time girlfriend Samantha Williams just last month in Las Vegas when the whole crew, all of the Montgomery and Williams siblings and their significant others, were there for a combined bachelor/bachelorette party for Will and Meg.