“You have to stop,” I warn Levi as he catches my earlobe between his teeth. “Your soft grand opening is in a week, and you haven’t even decided on the drinks you’re serving.”

“That’s because I have better things to do.” He draws a line with his tongue to my jaw.

“Your mother’s down the hall!” I hiss, scooting my chair away from him before he can pull me deeper into the haze that sets in whenever I’m around Levi. The same one that makes me forget about time and responsibility.

He sits back and frowns. “I’ve already put together the menu. Food is ordered. Floors are installed, and they’re finishing with the painting.”

“What about the alcohol?”

“Done.”

I stare at him through slit eyes. “Were you crying wolf?”

“Me?” He feigns innocence as he leans forward, his palm sliding against my thigh.

“I can’t believe you told me you needed help.”

“I’ve barely seen you this week. I knew the only way I’d get you to sit down with me was to get on your calendar.”

“Barely seen me?” My jaw drops, and I glance to my door before continuing. “I’ve spent the night at your apartment more than I haven’t!” I whisper.

“Yeah, but the hours we sleep don’t count.”

I lean closer. “I haven’t been letting you sleep.” My lips brush his ear.

His hand constricts on my thigh, and he chuckles. “I slept for at least four hours last night, and in my book, that’s four hours too many.” He slides my chair closer. I sigh because I don’t want to fend him off. His touch has become an addiction as much as a necessity. It calms me, soothes me, and breathes life into me.

“We should take some time off. Go to Tennessee like you’ve been wanting.”

I nod. “That would be nice.”

“Then let’s do it. And what about your birthday?”

“What about my birthday?” I ask, turning to my computer.

“You’re turning thirty, and when I asked Felicity about planning something, she said I should talk to you because you hate birthdays, and I told her that wasn’t possible because I know you love cake—granted, it would be vegan. You’d probably love cake a whole lot more with butter.”

I roll my eyes. “You and Felicity aren’t allowed to talk anymore.”

Levi pulls my chair back away from my desk, forcing me to face him again. “You really don’t like birthdays? You know thirty is still young.”

“It’s not my age. It’s just…” I blow out a deep breath. “When I was little, we went to stay with my grandma in March. They—my parents—were supposed to be gone for a week, and…” I shake my head, hating that this still bothers me. “I thought there was no way they’d miss my birthday, but they didn’t even call. And while Grammy is great, she was one of ten kids growing up, so birthdays were never a big deal to her, so I’ve just…” I shrug.

“Just what?”

I look to Levi, his blue eyes wide with patience. When he looks at me like this, it’s unnerving as much as it is thrilling—like he’s seeing past my armor and who I want to be and who I try to be right into my soul. Like he sees me and understands me better than I do my own self. “I just don’t like birthdays.”

Levi shakes his head. “I’m going to change that.”

“I was working on convincing Felicity to jump out of a plane with me, but then she went and got knocked up. And since you don’t like heights, I say we get doughnuts and cake and you take me to one of your favorite spots in Chicago.”

Levi grins. It’s one of my favorite smiles that tugs his lips and stamps that dimple into his cheek and further into my heart. He stands and brushes his lips against my temple.

“What? Where are you going?”

“I have to go check on one of the bars.”

“I thought it was all handled?”

He shrugs mysteriously.

“I really don’t want to do anything for my birthday. A cake or a doughnut or whatever, and I’m good.”

“Why are you making this about you?” he asks. “I told you—I have to go check on the bar.”

“I hate you.”

His laughter punctures my thoughts, making me forget that he’s being difficult and likely working with Felicity behind my back, instead focusing on how much I don’t want him to leave.

I stand and follow him toward my office door. “Where are you really going?”

“The bar out on the west side. A cook called in sick, so I’m going to fill in for him.” He rolls up his sleeves as he turns to face me, the sweet and spicy aroma of his cologne filling my lungs.

“You look kind of happy about that.”

“I am.”

“Have you ever considered opening a restaurant instead of more bars?”

Levi shrugs. “Not really.”

“How come? You love food; you love to cook.”

“Because I already have shitty hours. A restaurant would only make that worse, and I wouldn’t be able to cook because I’d be running it.”

“I guess I can let you just keep cooking for me in that case.”

A slow smile stretches across his face, carving those faint lines that look like parentheses. I’m starting to realize I’m striving to make it appear. “Get off at six tonight, and I’ll make you dinner, but there’s a dress code.”

I narrow my eyes. “Let me guess, naked?”

“That would break at least a dozen health code laws. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment, and Levi laughs. “That’s your required attire for dessert. For dinner, you have to wear this.” He points to a bag he’d brought in and set near my door, claiming it was samples for the new bar’s restrooms.

“What? What is it?”

In response, he smiles coyly. “I have to go. I’m going to be late. I’ll see you at six.” He leans down, catching my lips with his, and then he’s gone.

I stare into the bag, where a large, white box is wrapped with a silky red ribbon. I lift it out and prop it on my lap, pulling the bow free with a single tug. Under the heavy lid is a sheath of black fabric and a hint of lace that I lift to discover one of the most beautiful and sexy cocktail dresses I’ve ever seen. And suddenly, this day can’t end soon enough.

My desk phone rings an hour later, and I stare at the receiver, praying it isn’t going to be an issue that might postpone this evening. I’ve been ready to go since Levi left.

“Glitter and Gold, this is Brooke.”

“Brooke, this is Allison Hastings, the editor in chief with Unfiltered, the top selling women’s magazine in the country. How are you today?”

“I’m well, thanks. How are you?”

“I’m very excited to speak with you. I’ve been following your blog for the past couple of weeks, and I’ve really enjoyed it. You’re witty and informative, but at the same time you share a level of sympathy and compassion that seems to connect with your audience.”

I sit back in my seat, attempting to discern where this conversation is heading. “I don’t know if I have an audience per se.”

“You not only have an audience, you have an active audience.”

My palms itch with sweat, nerves making my heartbeat erratic. There’s something in her tone that borders too closely on admiration.

“I’d like to chat with you about coming to work for us and continuing your work. The magazine would, of course, pay for your expenses to try new things, travel to new places, and sample new products. We would have a monthly story but also a weekly edition online.”

“That’s … um, wow.”

She laughs. “This is just the tip of the iceberg. I have all kinds of ideas for you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, I’ll be in town next Friday. Why don’t we go to dinner? I can tell you why you’ll love living in California, the first reason being you’ll never have to run into your ex again.”

“California?”

“That’s where we’re headquartered.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t let that deter you. I don’t want you to think about moving or apartment hunting or any of that. I want you to think about all of the things you’d like to try and make a list of them so we can jump right in.” The rest of our conversation passes too quickly. I stop focusing on her words because guilt is infringing upon my excitement at the possibility of making a career out of writing. No more brides. No more broken centerpieces, last-minute dress alterations, incorrect dates, or unavailable dates for venues. It would just be me, writing about experiences and adventures.

In California.

Between my excitement to meet Levi and the turmoil of thoughts that my call with Allison Hastings has caused, I log out early and change into the dress he bought me. I’d never considered what it would be like to receive a dress from a man. If I’d find it controlling or romantic, and now with the rich fabrics falling over me like the dress was made for me, I realize there’s a thoughtfulness behind it that makes it surpass romantic straight to swoon-worthy.

I don’t bother with packing my laptop because I know there’s no chance I’ll be using it tonight. I step out of the office with my work clothes sitting in the bag my dress came in and notice Levi’s car parked beside mine.

My heart rate peaks, and butterflies spread in my stomach.

He opens his door, stepping out in a pair of black slacks and a pale-blue dress shirt. He stops when he sees me, his gaze drinking me in slowly.

I cross the parking lot, which is nearly empty. Though there’s still too much work, three new employees have started. Only one is ready to take on clients, but the others have helped with multiple tasks, allowing us each to breathe and leave at more reasonable hours.

“You look…” He shakes his head. “Hang on. I need to make a call and order a dozen more of these dresses.”

I laugh, grabbing his phone, though I know he’s kidding. “Why are you here so early?”

“Well, I happen to know almost everything about this city. Where the best attractions are, the best comedy clubs, night life, the best bars, coffee, but…” He steps closer to his car and reaches inside, retrieving a dozen purple irises that are joined with sprigs of green and white. “I had to ask my mother where the best flowers were, and she told me I was too late. That the best flowers sell out first thing but that I might find something halfway presentable if I left right away.” He hands the bouquet to me, his fingers brushing mine, and he doesn’t move away or pull back, stretching the moment. The sweet grape-soda scent from the irises makes me smile, and the gesture makes me blush. I haven’t received flowers in years.

“These are perfect.”

He raises a hand, tracing my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. There are too many feelings. Too much emotion.

“I thought you were supposed to be working?” I ask.

Levi lifts a shoulder, his smirk adding a familiar level of ease, bringing humor and comfort. “It was a slow afternoon.” He leans closer. My heart stutters and flails, considering something sarcastic or witty to say in an attempt to calm my nerves and racing thoughts. His lips are warm and soft over mine, slowly erasing my fears. Then his tongue slides along mine. It’s like a fine wine—a bottle saved for a special occasion because it’s hearty and smooth and rich, filling me and warming me all the way to my bones. His fingers press into my lower back, and the pressure of his hand along my jaw increases, asking for more before he takes it.

When Levi pulls back, his pupils are dilated, his thoughts likely participating in the same war mine are—one where his hot skin is consuming me, filling me, breathing me, and the rest of the world is shut out.

“We’re getting messy. Your mom is going to catch us.”

He slides his hand from my jaw to the back of my neck, pulling me forward and kissing me again, pulling me under a wave where I forget which way is up and why this might be wrong. My body aches to feel him against me, and my will is past perforated, edging on being torn.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, running his nose along a short path behind my ear.

I follow him to the passenger side of the car, where he opens the door for me and offers his hand. I take it, though I don’t need to. It’s becoming difficult to not touch him when he’s near—and impossible to not touch him when there’s an offer. I slide into the plush seat, the richness of the leather molding around me.

“Where are we going?”

“To a vegan Mexican restaurant that’s supposed to make me forget about my love of cheese and meat.” Levi starts the car, the engine a low rumble.

“We can go to a regular restaurant. It’s pretty simple for me to order what I want, but you won’t be able to change your order to get what you want.”

He shakes his head. “I have what I want.”

My heart goes into a tailspin.

The restaurant is on the main level of a high-rise. All glass and bright colors.

My gaze snaps between the menu and Levi, waiting for his reaction to the diverse menu.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a grenade.”

“I just know how much you love food. I don’t…”

He reaches forward, placing his hand atop mine. “Brooke.” His voice is silky and rich, so soft it beckons my full attention. “You’re worth it. You’re worth everything.”

Dessert is even better than dinner. We spend hours losing ourselves in each other, my thoughts consumed with Levi until it’s so late my eyes burn to keep open.

I roll over to ensure my alarm is set for the morning, and see a text from Allison, thanking me again.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks, trailing his fingers against my bare skin.

“An editor from a magazine called me today.”

“Oh, yeah? For what?”

“To offer me a job.”

His hand stills. “Is this a good thing?”

“I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“It would be leaving what I know, and that’s really scary.”

“But it might be a fear worth facing.” He tucks his face into my neck, his breaths tickling my shoulder blade.

“They’re based out of LA.”

His arm wraps around my middle. “Did you ask her about the possibility of working remote?”

The question seems so simple. So logical. “I didn’t really ask many questions. The entire conversation took me by surprise.”

“Well, let’s make a list in the morning, and you can call her back.”

I melt against his chest, my thoughts finally settling.