Chapter Eleven

Melinda

I ran my fingertips across the cool leather seats of the private car I had become very accustomed to riding in whenever I went to see Troy. The city was lively and bustling this time of year. August was always busy, though, between those last-minute vacations people were taking, and kids getting ready to go back to school. Everyone was trying to hold onto the last several weeks of summer, shorts, tank tops, and the warm sun beating down on you. When September hit, you never knew what the weather would bring.

I had been dating Troy for two months now, starting from the moment he’d come to my office to make what we now called his “big gesture.” I’d always thought big gestures were stupid. Romantic, but stupid. Just because someone rolled up to your office with romanticized ideas did not mean they deserved a chance, but I’d let Troy in that day. He’d seriously pissed me off at first, but his words, the hopeful look on his face, the overall determination and refusal to back down—

I fell for it, and I hadn’t looked back yet. It still felt weird, though, to talk about him as my boyfriend. It felt like I was going behind my own back, having a relationship, but to my surprise it hadn’t affected my work at all.

I had finally settled into my new position, knowing exactly what it was I was supposed to be on top of. I still made it a point to be two steps ahead, enjoying the looks of shock on board member’s faces when they asked when to expect a project, only to find it in the stack of files in front of them. It was a priceless moment every single time.

Though I initially thought dating Troy would hurt my work, in fact, he turned out to be my biggest supported. He showed me how to be more productive, less stressed, and he was really cute when he did it too. I still couldn’t believe that I had said yes to him that day in the office, especially since I was pretty sure he was only trying to sleep with me again. To my surprise though, he didn’t put the moves on me at all for at least a week after that. Not until I said screw it and jumped him next time he came to pick me up at my apartment.

It really surprised me to find out that the cocky, self-absorbed man I initially met at the bar that night wasn’t who Troy really was. He had put up a wall, creating a character that he played out on a daily basis. Not all that unlike my own workaholic character, honestly. At home, though, with just the two of us, he was one of the sweetest men that I had ever met. I enjoyed every second that we were together. It was refreshing to know there were still real men out there, who respected and supported their women, and that one of them happened to be mine.

I was distracted from my thoughts as the car pulled up in front of his complex. The driver came around to my side and opened the door, helping me onto the sidewalk. I smiled at him and looked up to the top of the building, knowing Troy was up there waiting on me.

I smiled and looked back around the busy New York streets, really loving my life at that moment. I had acquired everything I wanted, and then something I hadn’t even realized I needed. Troy.

There were butterflies surging through my chest as I made my way through the lobby. It felt like the first time I was getting ready to see him, and they never seemed to go away. I was like a giggling schoolgirl every single time I visited, and though it could be distracting at times, it was something that I found exciting. Sure, I had dated men before, and even had that feeling for a couple of them, but it never lasted more than a few dates, and especially not two months into a relationship.

I climbed inside the elevator and put the key in the penthouse slot, a key that Troy had given me only two weeks in. He’d said he wanted me to always be able to at least get to his floor, because he didn’t like the idea of ever keeping me waiting. Just thinking about that sent electricity into my chest, and I smiled to myself, noticing the rosiness of my cheeks in the mirrored walls of the elevator.

When I reached the top, I walked out and turned right, taking a deep breath and knocking on his door. I leaned against the doorframe and waited for him to open up and let me in. He opened the door with a smile, looking as handsome as ever. He still had a dress shirt on, unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an apron draped over him. He was wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. He leaned in and kissed me deeply on the lips.

“You look more and more beautiful every single time I see you,” he whispered into my ear, making me blush.

“I’ve been sacrificing my employees and making skin cream,” I said sarcastically, with a smile.

“I have some for you at my company you can use,” he replied with a chuckle as he stepped to the side.

I laughed and walked into the penthouse, hanging my purse by the door and slipping off my heels. I walked carefully across the wooden floors and into the open floorplan where his living room and kitchen met. I stopped and stared at the food cooking on the stove and smirked in surprise.

“Wow,” I said. “You actually cooked dinner all on your own. Is it edible?”

“Maybe. I gotta keep you guessing,” he said, kissing me on the lips and walking into the kitchen. “Grab a glass of wine and go relax; dinner will be ready soon.”

“Yes, sir,” I said smiling. “That is definitely a request I will not say no to.”

“Busy day?”

“When is it not a busy day? It’s all right, though. Keeps me on my toes and helps me collapse into sleep at the end of the day,” I replied, pouring the wine and walking down into the living room.

“If you’re collapsing into your bed at night then you, my dear, have reached a successful point,” he said. “It’s a rite of passage, because now you actually get to sleep instead of being up all night trying to get ahead.”

“That is very true,” I chuckled.

His place was spacious, eclectic, and very put together at all times. It almost looked like he never lived in it, but I knew that was part of his charm— his inability to function in a messy space. The floor-to-ceiling windows with the amazing view were the obvious focal point of the place, but as you looked around there were some interesting personal touches.

I wandered around the living room, sipping my wine, and studying the art on the walls. It was colorful and large, giving more depth to the sterility of the white furniture. I was kind of curious as to whether he had decorated the place on his own or had had someone do it for him, because it didn’t seem to match his personality at all.

“You need to let me help you decorate,” I said. “This is such an amazing space, but it doesn’t feel like you at all. You need a woman’s touch, and not just in the bedroom.”

“But that’s my favorite kind,” he said, laughing. “Besides, doilies and throw pillows aren’t my thing. I’d like to keep my man card just a bit longer.”

“Oh, come on,” I replied archly. “Do I look like the doily and throw pillow kind of girl?”

“Not from the outside,” he said. “But you could totally be a closet throw pillow girl, secretly stashing them in your closet and pulling them out when no one is around.”

“You caught me,” I laughed. “And I actually replace everything in my house with things I have crocheted myself.”

“I knew it,” he shouted.

I laughed loudly before walking over and sitting down on the couch, rubbing my hands across the soft leather beneath me. I sipped my wine, wondering what he had cooked for dinner, and quite frankly, whether it would be edible or not. I turned toward the kitchen and laid my head on the back of the couch, watching Troy as he danced around the kitchen. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was actually comfortable there. I could not help but notice just how sexy he looked holding a kitchen utensil and whistling to himself as he prepared dinner.

I bit my lip as my eyes moved down his back, watching the muscles ripple under his fitted blue button-up, scooping down at the small of his back. The curves of his ass were accentuated by the perfectly fitting black trousers, and I thought for a second about skipping dinner and just going straight to his bedroom. I could already imagine getting those clothes off him, running my hands down his chiseled body, feeling the smoothness of his skin in the palm of my hands. Just imagining it made my crotch warm and I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs in front of me.

“Do you like merlot?”

“Huh,” I said shaking the fantasy from my mind. “Oh, yes. Yes, I like merlot.”

He shook his head and turned around. I let out a breath and smirked to myself, realizing I’d almost just gotten caught checking him out like he was a piece of meat. I was starting to understand why men got caught doing it all the time; that body was definitely distracting me from any form of relaxation that might have come my way sitting there in the living room. It didn’t matter. I was enjoying myself in a way I had never done before. I watched him as he placed the different food on serving platters, tasting each one and showing his pride in the nod of his head. I smiled at his confidence, but didn’t let him see that I was watching him.

He pulled the plates and silverware from the cabinet and carefully and meticulously set the dining room table. He moved the forks and knives around until they were in the perfect position and then stood back to make sure it was just right. After he put the food in the center of the table, he looked up at me and smiled, waving me over. I smiled big and stood up, careful not to spill my wine. I finished the last bit of it and handed him my glass before sitting down and scooting my chair forward. He opened the merlot and stared across the table into my eyes as he filled my glass and handed it to me. His confidence was arousing, and I felt a surge of electricity in my chest as our hands brushed each other’s. He smiled coyly before pouring his own glass.

There was an intensity in the pit of my stomach that was almost taking my breath away. Everything about him was taking over my mind, and I had a feeling in my chest that I was having a hard time figuring out. I took a big gulp of my wine and tried to hide the red of my cheeks. I could lie to myself all I wanted, but the truth of it was, I knew exactly what that feeling was. For better or worse, two months in, I was already falling in love with him.