Me And Mr. I.T. (Kupid's Cove Book 2) (9 page)

I sat up and flipped my legs over the edge until my feet hit the floor. “It means that the more expensive something is, the less comfortable it is for practical use.” He picked up my pillow and blanket, tucking it under his arm. “What are you doing?”

“That bed is so big, and it must have cost very little because it’s incredibly, soul touchingly comfortable. You’re going to sleep on it, with me. You can have the side closest to the door in case you have to bolt.”

I put a hand on my hip. “Why would I have to bolt?” I asked through a yawn.

“In case I bite,” he teased, herding me down the hall to the bedroom.

I stood in the doorway, my lower lip caught between my teeth. “I don’t know about this,” I muttered without letting go of my lip.

“All I know is that I can’t sleep in here while you’re miserable out there,” he informed me fluffing the pillow on the bed and laying the blanket at the foot. “I’ll sleep above the covers and you can sleep under them.”

He pulled the blanket I had been using over his legs then patted the empty spot next to him. “There’s plenty of room. This is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen.”

It wasn’t the size of the bed I was worried about. I was worried about how sleeping in the same bed with him would not help my already pointless crush. At the same time, I had to pretend I was married to him, and I couldn’t sleep on that couch for two weeks. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, or in this case, a soft place.

“Why were you even up?” I asked, sitting down gingerly on the bed. “Don’t say because I was flopping; there’s no way you could have heard that all the way in here.”

He pulled the chain on the lamp and the room descended into darkness. “I was up because I felt guilty making you sleep out there when I had this huge bed to myself. I promise to be the perfect gentleman and not stray from my half of the bed. You sleep under and I’ll sleep over then we will in no way touch.”

I looked at him in the pale light that filtered through the curtains. He was wearing a t-shirt and boxers. It was then that I noticed the softness to him I didn’t notice during the day. He was muscular, but had a gentle chest and a tiny bump to his stomach that told me it would be a great place to rest my head at the end of the day. His face had the same bit of plumpness to his olive cheeks. In that moment, I saw the difference between Mr. I.T. and Maltrand. I liked that on the job he was professional and well dressed, but I would look forward to coming home to his relaxed look. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to force the thoughts from my head. You aren’t coming ‘home’ to his ‘relaxed’ look, Ellie. You aren’t actually married, and you need to get that through your head, seeing as how you have to lie down and sleep next to him. I half chuckled again. Yeah, like sleep was going to happen. If he noticed the uncomfortable laughter he didn’t say anything. I slid my legs under the sheets and lay stiff as a board on the pillow. He rested on his back, staring at the ceiling, in an exact copy of my posture. I tried to roll over to my side, but couldn’t because he was holding down the sheet.

“This isn’t going to work,” I sighed and I heard the snap of the lamp and then light filled the room.

“Clarify?” he asked and I motioned at the bed.

“This. You on top, me on the bottom.”

“I could definitely make that work,” he said.

I realized what I said when his brow went up and I groaned, swatting at him. “You know what I mean!”

He was grinning when he spoke again. “I love how you blush. It starts at your neck and goes all the way up your cheeks.”

I lay back down, letting my head thunk on the pillow in response.

“What do you propose we do about this if it’s not working for you?” he asked, motioning to the bed.

“I don’t know, you’re the one always proposing,” I huffed.

He was laughing silently, but I saw his shoulders shaking. Soon I couldn’t hold it in either and started giggling. I hated giving him the satisfaction of giving in and laughing, but the last eighteen hours had been stressful and I either needed a good laugh or a good cry.

He finally held up his hands after he wiped tears from his eyes. “That’s another thing I love about you. You have the greatest sense of humor. It always comes out as a burn to the target, but it’s always funny so the burned doesn’t even care.”

“Just get under the covers so we can sleep,” I begged.

He slipped under the sheet and shut the light off again. I rolled over onto my right side, protecting the parts of me I never wanted him to see, and closed my eyes.

“Good night, snookums pie,” I said, yawning.

“Good night, honey bunches,” he answered, and I didn’t even bristle. As my eyes closed, I knew I should enjoy it while I could, before he climbed from my bed, and my life, forever.

Right before I fell asleep, I swear I heard myself whimper.

Chapter Eight

I woke slowly, the sun shining through the window at an annoying angle. I snuggled further into my pillow, intent on staying in bed for another hour, if that blasted sun would get out of my eyes. I went to bed way too late last night to be up this early. The thought no sooner flitted through my brain than I remembered yesterday, and the sham marriage. I groaned and felt my pillow move under my head.

I opened my eyes and took in the blue t-shirt under my cheek, the sheet doing nothing to cover his arousal lurking beneath it. My legs were tangled around his and his arm was wrapped around my back, resting on my shoulder.

“Honestly, I woke up and found you this way.” He was chuckling and my head moved as his stomach jiggled with the motion. “I think it’s the cologne. You’re always sniffing my clothes when I get within a few feet of you.”

I swatted him and pushed myself up, using his chest for leverage. “You’re a jerk,” I said sleepily. “And you’re not cute, so stop laughing and acting like you are.”

He was laying there with his hands behind his head, not even attempting to hide his arousal. “You thought I was cute when you cuddled up to me at five a.m.”

“Pffftttt,” I said, straightening my pajamas and standing, “I wasn’t cuddling up to you. I was sleeping, and you got in my way.”

He let out a bark of laughter as I slammed the bathroom door, pacing in front of it. Where in the hell did he think he had the right to let me cuddle with him?

“Argh,” I yelled and heard his laughter from the other room. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you,” he called.

“That’s crap! Whenever someone says that, they’re lying!” I yelled back. I snapped the water on in the shower to cover up the sounds I made relieving myself. No way was I going to let him hear me use the toilet. I stripped my pajamas off and stood under the spray, letting the warm nettles wake me slowly while I envisioned him sitting out there with a smug look on his face as he… I threw my hands up in the air. Did whatever he did in the morning. When I got out of the shower, I planned to have breakfast and get to work. He could do whatever the hell he wanted to do, as long as he didn’t do it anywhere near me.

Too bad we weren’t actually married. His trouser snake looked to be of the python origin and parts of me were sad I would never find out for sure. I snorted, turning my head into the water to rinse the soap from it. I was relatively certain that the few moments of enjoyment with him wouldn’t be worth it in the long run. Then again, if I could somehow separate how I feel about him from the sex, it might be worth it. I never had a problem with casual sex before, so why would I have a problem with it now? I had more than my fair share of experience in bed. I’m not proud of that necessarily, but maybe for once I could use it to my advantage.

I shut the faucet off and the water dribbled for a few more seconds than stopped. I looked down at my body and shook my head. No, there would be no casual sex with Maltrand, there would be no casual anything with him. He did things to me that I have never felt before. I’ve woken plenty of mornings wrapped around a guy, but I’ve never been embarrassed about it before. Even when I should have been dying of awkwardness, I never did, because they were one-night stands I would never see again. Frankly, the knowledge that his arousal was in response to how I made him feel splayed across him, made me proud.

I dried off then stood in front of the nearly full-length mirror. “Why would you feel proud that he was turned on by you? You’ve turned on plenty of men in the past,” I reminded my reflection. I grabbed my brush and started on my hair, as I pondered further why I feel so flirty and accepted around him. I dried my hair, brushing and blow drying the ebony tresses. Today was day one of my marriage and I wanted to look attractive for my husband. I laughed aloud at the woman in the mirror before I stuck my tongue out at her. It might be smarter to look at it more like day thirty on the countdown to my divorce. The only thing ‘day one’ about it involved the time I had to spend getting to know the employees here better, and finding the thief among us. I swiped on some foundation, a little eye shadow, and lip-gloss, convinced it was the best I was going to look after a late night and early morning.

I cracked the door, looking left and right for him, but he had already left the room. I kept my towel wrapped around me and tiptoed to the closet; a walk-in and big enough for each of us to have half of it, with room to dress in the three-way mirror. I closed the door behind me and pulled down a long floral print dress from the hanger, after I pulled on undergarments and nylons. I suppose most women don’t wear nylons these days, but call me old fashioned. I like the look they offer, and with the new thigh high option, it’s easy to look professional no matter the situation. Whether the job took me to the boardroom or the beach, I had a pair for every occasion. Satisfied with the way I looked I snapped the light off in the closet and walked down the short hallway.

“I smell coffee,” I called as I walked toward the full-size kitchen off the dining room.

He stood lounging against the counter, a cup at his lips. “Your sniffer is strong, young one.”

I laughed, genuinely amused by his humor. I poured a cup then dropped in a sugar cube followed by a healthy splash of cream I found in the fridge.

“I got a laugh out of you,” he commented. “I’ll take it for now. It’s better than growling.”

I refused to bite and turn his words into a reason to snap his head off. “I only growl when people marry me off without asking first.”

“So if I asked would you say yes?” he asked, setting his cup on the counter.

I held up my ring finger. “Last time I checked, you already put a ring on it.”

He shook his head and twisted the band around on his own finger. “I mean for realsies.”

“What are you, fifteen?” I asked, just so I could dodge the question.

He laughed and I noticed for the first time that he wore a pair of khakis and a Kupid Enterprises polo shirt. I motioned at the outfit with one finger while I drank from my cup. “Ready for work?”

He took the cup from my hand and put his arm around my shoulder. “I am, and you, my dear wife, look gorgeous. I thought we would have breakfast downstairs before we start our day. Consider it our first public appearance as husband and wife.”

He winked and handed me my purse, which I immediately laid back on the entry table. “I’m not hungry.”

He set one hand on his hip. “Are we going to do this again?”

I sighed. “Do what again, oh wise one?”

“The whole, “I don’t need to eat because I’m watching my figure” thing.”

I shoved him backward and he caught himself before he hit the wall. I stuck my finger in his face and it shook with fury. “First of all, who said I’m watching my figure? Those are your words, not mine, which tells me you think I need to. Second of all, I didn’t say I don’t need to eat. I said I wasn’t hungry. There is a difference. Did you consider that maybe I don’t want to go to breakfast with you because you’re being a jerk, and I can’t act like a loving wife in front of other people?” The last question came out in a very high octave.

He held both hands up and had the good sense to look ashamed. “You’re right, I apologize. For the record, I don’t think you need to watch your figure. In fact, I rather enjoy watching your figure, and the way it teases me so subtly. Maybe that admittance will get me in trouble, but I don’t think there’s much that won’t. If you don’t want to go to breakfast, I understand. I’ll bring you whatever you would like from the café before I start my day.”

I walked to the couch and sat, my legs tucked against the edge. “I sound like a real witch, don’t I?” I asked, putting my head in my hands. I felt the cushion depress when he sat next to me and then his arm went around my shoulders again.

“No, you sound like a stressed out marketing director who has had a lot thrown at her in the last twenty-four hours. I’m not helping by saying stupid stuff without thinking. I’ll make a promise to think more and try to aggravate you less.”

I dropped my hands and looked up into his face. He was so damn handsome I wanted to kiss him right then and there, but instead I gave him half a smile. “And I’ll promise not to fly off the handle at every little thing you say. I’m carrying a lot of weight on my shoulders and it’s hard to let someone else help me carry it.”

He smiled and ran a finger down my cheek. “You might be surprised what a relief it is to share the load with someone else. Just think about it, okay?”

I was lost in his eyes, but said, “I’ll try.”

He leaned in, as though our lips were magnets neither of us could fight. When his lips touched mine, he tasted of coffee, with a hint of cream and sugar. I tangled my fingers in his hair and he held my face in his hands, taking control of the kiss. I sighed, the sound heightening the intensity of the kiss tenfold. He laid me back on the couch and made love to my mouth, our fingers wrapped in each other’s hair. How I wanted him. His touch, his kisses, his love. I froze at that thought and he noticed, immediately.

He ended the kiss and propped himself up on his palms. “I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he said, sitting up and helping me up.

“You weren’t the only one,” I said, my fingers touching my tender well-kissed lips. “Sometimes I can’t stop myself from taking the comfort you offer. Is that wrong?”

He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “No, it’s not wrong, not as far as I’m concerned. We all need comfort. Sometimes we need to feel close to someone else. Life can be lonely, I know that first hand and I’m tired of it. I spend so much time working because I have nothing waiting for me at home.”

I nodded, unable to look away from the honesty in his eyes. “Me, too. When I do get home I know you’re right next door, but it feels like it might as well be a thousand miles away.”

I finally tore my eyes from his and stood. “I guess I wouldn’t mind some coffee and maybe a bowl of cereal with fresh fruit.”

He grabbed the keycard off the table and tucked it in his back pocket, then held out his hand. “I think we can arrange that.”

I took his outstretched hand, and its warmth wrapped around mine tenderly. We walked to the private elevator and rode it to the lower level of the hotel, where the breakfast café sat on one end, and the restaurant and nightclub on the other.

“I’m not sure I could ever get used to living like this,” I mused and he raised a brow at me as he rested his hands on the gold railing that ran around the square elevator car.

“Living like this?” he asked. “Being married, or?”

I held up one hand. “The ‘or’. I meant living in a penthouse suite with everything I could ever want at my fingertips.”

He studied me before he spoke. “Why do you think it would be hard to get used to?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe because I don’t remember a time when I haven’t had to work for everything I have. I’ve never been handed anything, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“So you think Kate and Gideon are too luxurious?”

I shook my head and sighed, frustrated that I couldn’t get my point across. “No, not at all. I know Gideon has worked for everything he has. Katie, let’s face it, she’s had a tough go in life and she gives back as much as she gets. I don’t know. I’m having a hard time explaining this, but then so much has changed in my life I’m having a hard time explaining that, too.”

The elevator doors opened to let us out and he walked next to me, his hand holding mine the way newlyweds would do. I knew we weren’t actually newlyweds, but this morning it didn’t seem so hard to pretend as if we were. Walking alongside an attractive man who is attentive and caring, made it easy to fall into the lie, and believe it. I had to remind myself on that long walk to the café that our marriage was a sham.

“You aren’t thinking of leaving Kupid Enterprises, are you?” he asked as we walked.

I looked up at him and the look on his face told me he was one hundred percent serious with the question. “No, whatever gave you that idea? Kupid Enterprises isn’t just a job to me. Kupid Enterprises is my life. Everyone I work with is my family. There’s no job in the world worth leaving a place that’s my home and part of who I am. I’m not sure what I would do if Gideon ever fired me.”

He turned his head and kissed my temple, right in the middle of the breakfast café with at least two dozen people milling about.

“You’re never going to have to worry about that happening, but it’s a relief to hear you aren’t leaving. If you ever want to talk about how you’re feeling, or about the things that are changing, I’m here to listen.”

I looked up at him and squeezed his hand. He looked down at me and winked, then plunked a kiss on my lips that took me by surprise, but made me want so much more.