Negligee Behavior (23 page)

“Stop it,” she chided and leaned forward. “I know exactly where your thoughts are going, and you’re wrong.”

“And where should my thoughts go?” he challenged, his voice harsher than he intended. “You blew off my letter and then show up a week later—”

“I never received your letter.” She traced a painted nail over his mouth. “My mom’s crap assistant neglected to give it to me. We found it today. I read it, oh, three hours ago to be exact.”

Relief coursed through his body. Marco grabbed her hand and pressed it into his cheek.

“Is that so?” he asked, his voice husky now.

“Yes.”

“So you read it?”

She nodded.

“And you’re not appalled by me? Or disgusted in my decision to leave the firm?”

“Of course not,” she said softly. “You’re doing what makes you happy. And I searched on the web for you like a mad fool for hours, Marco. You weren’t responsible for that woman’s death. You were a defense attorney, for Pete’s sake. Of course you’re going to take some cases you’d rather not.”

“I didn’t want to take any. Law wasn’t for me. I pursued it because of my dad. He always wanted to be a lawyer. When he realized I’d argue for hours with a fence post, he encouraged me to pursue the field.”

“And it wasn’t for you.” Her fingers stroked featherlight along his hairline. “Shit happens.”

“You just swore.”

“Yes, a bad habit I picked up from a couple of crazy bartenders I met.”

“They sound interesting.”

“Well, one interests me a bit more than the other.” She pushed her fingers into his hair. “Seriously, though, Marco. Why spend your life doing something that doesn’t make you happy?”

He pressed a kiss into her palm and closed his eyes. God, he didn’t deserve her. She was too understanding. Knew him too well, as if they’d been together years instead of just a couple turbulent, amazing weeks.

“Besides, you have a fantastic little bar here. Getting busier every day.”

“Damn, you have no idea.” He shook his head. “We’re interviewing for three more waitress positions tomorrow.”

“Make it two.”

He froze and pulled away. “I’m sorry?”

“Make it two,” she repeated and leaned forward, brushing her lips across his. “I want to work here on the weekends.”

His pulse slowed and then sped up again. “You want to commute from California?”

“No.” She brushed another kiss across his mouth, and lingered in a way that had the blood rushing south in his body. “I want to commute from your house.”

He caught her wrist when she moved to pull away. His gaze searched hers, looking for any sign that she was joking.

“You want to live with me?”

“If you’ll let me.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a wad of folded papers. “I printed out a list of schools that are hiring music teachers in the area, and if I can’t get a job at one of them I’ll just teach private lessons.”

His mouth opened and then closed. She wanted to move to Henderson?

“Why?” He touched her cheek, sliding his hand around to cup the nape of her neck. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I refuse to have a long-distance relationship with the man I love.”

“You love me?” Swept by an unfamiliar possessiveness, his fingers tightened around the nape of her neck.

“Yes. Of course,” she whispered, searching his face. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.”

“I wondered…and on the phone—”

“I love you, Marco. I love you more than I love my piano, and that says a heck of a lot.”

“More than your shirt with the cat playing the piano?”

She tsked. “Now you wouldn’t be mocking me, would you, Mr. Vargas from Vegas?”

“Hell no, princess. There are many other things I’d rather be doing than mocking you,” he muttered thickly, before tugging her onto his lap and crushing his mouth down on hers.

His tongue delved past her lips, desperate and hungry to find hers. To have that connection that he’d missed all week. That had nearly driven him mad without.

“I love you so much, Brandy,” he whispered and reached for the button on her skirt.

She drew in a shuddering breath and her eyes filled with tears. “I read the words in the letter, but to hear you say them…”

This woman would be his wife. He knew without a doubt. Already his mind flicked with the possibility of what kind of engagement ring she’d like.

“I know that look,” she teased and stood up. “Let me get out of these clothes.”

Obviously she had no idea where his thoughts lay. Good. That meant he’d get the pleasure of surprising her with the ring.

“Hey, princess?” he said softly as she started to undress.

“Yes?” She looked up at him.

“Leave the cat shirt on.”

A devious smile crossed her face. “I always knew you liked it.”

“Yeah I do.” He pulled her back onto his lap and murmured, “It grew on me.”

She wiggled on his lap and dropped a kiss on his nose. “I know something else that’s growing on you.”

Marco laughed and nuzzled her neck. “And what are you going to do about it?”

She lowered her mouth just above his and murmured, “Oh, I’m sure I can figure out something.

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