Chapter Nineteen

Reagan

For a moment, I can hardly breathe. Taryn…played a trick on me? And a damn good one. The only thing wrong with it is that I didn’t think of it first. From across the room, I meet her eyes, and we both burst into laughter, sharing everything via silent communication just like a couple would do. And it feels so damn right. I grin as I push my way through Nixon’s executives.

“I can’t believe it,” I say. “You got me. And even though it didn’t go as intended, I think the end result is even better.”

“I tried,” she says, blushing and biting her lip.

Hitting Dante with the exploding cake is the best thing that’s happened in a long time. He got a little taste of his own medicine, and no one has to suffer the consequences because he clearly did it to himself.

“Trust me, I think it was even funnier,” I say, soothing her. “I mean, I understand Dante wasn’t the intended recipient…but the look on his face! I thought he was going to explode, just like the cake.”

“Yeah,” she says, releasing a girlish giggle. A spectacular look crosses her face, and I want to kiss her so much I have to clamp my lips shut. I’ve never seen her look so happy. All it does is make me want to keep putting that expression on her beautiful features over and over. And I could be just the man for the job. We fit together like a glove. Each one of us complementing the other. “It was pretty great.”

“Pretty great?” I throw my arms around her and pull her into a close hug. “It was epic.”

Taryn pulls away, and I wonder if she’ll ever get used to leaning into my compliments and admiration instead of always deflecting.

Her cheeks turn from pink to bright tomato red. “I’ve been acting kind of out of character since we re-connected, and I’m not sure what to think about it.”

I stare at her – really look at her. The way her silky hair falls to her shoulders, the way her eyes sparkle and flash from laughing so hard. Suddenly, it hits me – Taryn wants to impress me. She’s trying to get in my head and think the same way I do.

A shiver runs down my back. Taryn isn’t the aloof goddess I thought she was before – she’s an actual flesh and blood woman, with a mischievous streak.

And somehow, that makes me like her even more. Want her even more. Life with her would never, ever be boring.

“I hope you’re not mad,” Taryn says. “I know I probably ruined the meeting.”

“Take it up with Nixon. I’m sure he’s fine, though. I thought he might pop a cork laughing. And anyway, you killed two birds with one stone. You pissed off Dante and got him to leave. I’m sure after he wipes off most of the fallout, he’ll slink back to the Mona Lisa to shower and change. He’s so arrogant, he’d never walk around town where someone could see him looking less than perfect.”

Taryn looks at me with an expectant expression. “You sure you’re not angry?”

God, how could I be angry with you? I stare at her in disbelief. You’re perfect, and I’m falling head over heels for you. You’re obviously perfect for me…exploding birthday cakes, exploding orgasms, exploding emotions.

“Reagan?” Taryn asks. “Are you mad?”

“Hell no,” I say. “But I am starving…feel like having dinner out?”

She glances at her watch. “I should really get back to the shop. I have a lot to do to finish planning my runway looks.”

“All the clothes will be there when you get back. Sometimes it’s best to come back to a task with fresh eyes.”

Taryn chews on her lip, clearly waffling. “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” I say, being selfish. “You owe it to yourself.” Stepping forward, I pick up a chunk of ruined cake from the bright pink box. “And I don’t think this is very nutritious.” I take a nibble of the cake and moan. “Mmm, angel food. That was always my favorite when I was a kid. My mom made a strawberry version to die for.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she agrees. “I skipped lunch, so I am pretty famished.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close. “Thanks for being so funny,” I say. “And trust me – I’m a pro so I would know.” Taryn’s hair smells like vanilla and oranges, and I want to bury my face in it and drink her in. It’s so hard to stay away from her, even in a room full of people I still feel like she and I are the only ones here. All of the chatter fades away when we’re interacting.

“Oh, I know,” Taryn says, giving me a sly look. “I’ve had some time to learn your tricks. I’m glad you approve. I might surprise you yet, Reagan Caldwell.”

As I guide her out of the room, I catch Nixon’s eye. He looks at us with obvious confusion on his face, and I can practically read his mind: Bro, tell her the truth. Anything worth having is worth going after, remember?

I know I should care about being forthright. But now, the only thing I care about is spending as much time with Taryn as humanly possible before I go back to NYC and my old life. It’s like I just started living again and I don’t want to think about closing the door to my own happiness.