Peyton

Simon’s ability to switch topics had been Oscar worthy, but I wasn’t able to recover easily from either his touch or his proclamation we’d drive to New York. Thankfully, Megan appeared a bit stunned, as well, by her first glimpse at him, judging from the priceless look on her face. Her eyes went as big as saucers while her mouth hung wide.

As soon as he left, she shut the door and lowered herself into my visitor’s chair, fanning herself with her hand. “Holy. Fucking. Shit. I sincerely regret the day our forefathers chose to throw a tea party and secede from Britain because that guy is hot, and we would’ve done well to keep such men here.”

I blew out a breath, thankful she hadn’t noticed how flushed my cheeks were or how off kilter I was. I could only respond with, “Yep.”

I took my seat, trying to collect myself.

“‘Yep’ is all you have to say for the finest looking man known to, well—man?”

“He has made the audit interesting for sure. He’s not always easy to work with.” That was an understatement, considering Simon’s work persona versus his personal one. And then sometimes they collided like they had sixty seconds ago. I experienced whiplash.

“Who the fuck cares? So he’s the get-naked, shhh-baby-don’t-talk, you’ll-ruin-for-me kind of guy.”

Laughter bubbled up at her description. Although I was tempted to confide in my best friend at work about Simon, what would I say? If ever there was an example of ‘it’s complicated,’ this would be it. However, I knew she expected me to contribute to the conversation about a hot guy in the office, so I said, “That would be a shame, considering his accent.”

She grinned. “True. So, other than needing to revise my list of free-pass men my husband would allow, what else should I be doing this afternoon?”

I shook my head, knowing she and her husband adored one another and that the “list” talk was all a joke. At least she was bringing me back to normal.

“First, your lists are reserved for celebrities. And second, I think I’m done with the audit stuff. I appreciate you covering the day to day this last week and getting me those reports.” I didn’t know what I would’ve done without her.

“I think we could make an exception in order to fit him on my list. But the audit being over is good news. You still have your interview for CFO at the end of the week, right?”

As I looked at my friend’s face and watched one of her hands smooth over her baby bump, I knew there was no way I could let her down. Especially when Simon had found a work around. At this point, if I said no to the drive and interview, I’d be disappointing them both.

“Yes. It may be off-site. I’ll take Thursday off and interview on Friday.”

“Considering all the hours you’ve been putting in, that would be good. Get yourself prepped.” Her voice went down to a whisper. “When do you think the news will hit?”

“I don’t know.” Not that I could tell her if I did. Considering the interviews for CFO were being scheduled, however, it sounded as if the sale was imminent. This meant that if I didn’t get the promotion, come next week everything would be uncertain.

“Here’s hoping I don’t have to quit because they promote the asshole, Jeff.”

That made two of us.

***

Who the hell showed up at four o’clock in the morning for a twenty-four-hour drive in a suit?

Simon.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Before leaving yesterday, I’d texted him my agreement, and he’d responded with a “you’re making the right decision.” Not a smiley emoji or a ‘good.’ He was so formal whereas I now wore yoga pants and a hoodie. All of my nice clothes were in a garment bag, and a small suitcase held everything else. I also had brought my pillow and a cozy throw.

At least he didn’t have a tie on. I wondered if he even owned a pair of jeans. Still, it didn’t detract from the way I reacted when I laid eyes on him. I got butterflies. Despite it being zero-dark-thirty. He was an enigma from the norm, and I was about to embark on the next twenty-four hours with him. I was both excited and nervous as to what we were doing with this. With us. With the interviews.

Back to the ‘it’s complicated.’

He merely smiled, putting my blanket and pillow in the car for me. It was Thursday morning. Even with stops, we hoped to make New York by rush hour on Friday morning. My interview was set for three o’clock, hopefully giving me a chance to get a power nap in. However, if last night’s insomniac night full of nerves was any indication, I probably wouldn’t get much sleep.

I introduced myself to the driver, whose name was Ralph, thanked him profusely, and took one last look at my house. At least Cooper’s sad face wasn’t in the window. In that case, I’d probably be a mess. My brother-in-law had picked him up last night, and I knew he was in good hands.

But I remained irrationally emotional. I hadn’t left the state in fifteen years, so this was a much bigger deal than anyone else would suppose.

“You ready?” Simon let me slide into the spacious black town car before he got in afterward.

“Yep.” Ready as I would ever be.

As if sensing my stress, he took a hold of my hand in the middle of the back seat. “You okay?”

I nodded, forcing myself to take a deep breath. “As an adult, I’ve never been out of the state of Texas.” I imagined, to a world traveler like him, this would sound ridiculous.

“Where did you go when you were younger?”

“California when I was eight. Arizona once. We even went to the Caribbean when I was twelve. My dad didn’t get a lot of time off, but when he did, my mom would try to plan vacations.”

He squeezed my hand. “You said you attempted once as an adult to get on a plane?”

I was amazed he remembered my outburst of information. “I attempted to fly to the ‘happiest place on earth.’ Didn’t get past airport security before I bolted. Not even my nieces and mouse ears could help me overcome the fear.”

His eyes held sympathy when I met them. “You ever been to New York?”

I was wistful in my response. Although I’d resigned myself to never flying, it didn’t mean I hadn’t wanted to experience the world. “No. Always wanted to go. One of my bucket list items includes seeing a Broadway show. Maybe I’ll catch a traveling one to Dallas someday. I also would love to experience Times Square, although not at New Year’s as that always looks way too cold.”

He chuckled. “It is. Those people are insane. Most aren’t from New York.”

Because I wanted to get to know him better, I posed the question, “Would you call New York home?”

A frown flitted over his face. “I own a condo there. So if that’s your definition, I suppose it is.”

“How long have you lived there?”

“Since university, but I bounced back and forth between there and London. I own a flat there, too.” Again, he wore strange expression on his face.

“Real estate doesn’t have to define home. I suppose it’s the one place you can’t wait to get back to after a long trip.”

He swallowed hard. “Then I suppose you could say I don’t have a place I call home.”

Now it was my turn to squeeze his hand. Though I knew he claimed to have wanderlust, I couldn’t imagine being without a place you couldn’t wait to get home, somewhere you could kick off your shoes and climb into your familiar bed with your loving dog, knowing you had a stash in the kitchen of Frosted Flakes.

I stifled a yawn as I watched the driver pull out. Time for seatbelts. After buckling up, Simon reached over to grab my pillow. After settling it in his lap, he took the blanket in his hands. “Lie down. Get some sleep.”

If I wasn’t so tired, I might’ve felt more sexually curious about having my face in his lap, but as it was, I simply lay down, content when he put the blanket over me and settled his arm to rest on my shoulder. First, though, he caressed my hair off my face. The gesture was both intimate and gentle. I didn’t know what this time with him would mean, but as I closed my eyes, I felt the most at peace as I had in a long time.

When I woke, we were in the full light of day. It took a moment for me to orient myself so I could sit up. Simon was looking at me as I smoothed down my hair, and I hoped I hadn’t been snoring. “What time is it?”

“We’re four hours in. You need a pit stop?”

I hesitated, but I did need to pee. The coffee from this morning had consequences. “Sorry. I know we’re trying to make good time.”

“Don’t be sorry. Ralph, the lady needs to stop. If you can find a place which has both petrol and food, that would be brilliant.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Granger.”

We pulled off the freeway ten minutes later. It felt divine to stretch my legs once I was out of the car. We were at one of those large gas stations with fast food attached. My stomach rumbled, serving notice it was time for something other than coffee.

After making it to the ladies’ room just in time, I stepped out of the stall and took a peek at myself in the mirror. Good Lord. My hair was a hot mess, and I looked as if I could use another eight hours of sleep. I finger combed my tresses back and corralled them with an elastic band before splashing my face with water. Next, I rinsed my mouth, thinking I should’ve brought in my toothbrush.

Feeling moderately better once I walked out of the restroom, I noticed Simon standing by the cash register. He appeared as if he was about to step into a meeting, not back into a car for twenty hours. It really was unfair he always looked so good. I snagged some gum, a soda, and a candy bar, bringing them up front. He quirked a brow at my choices but smiled at the barely legal cashier, who appeared a bit dumbstruck over him. No Laverne here.

“Add these to my purchase, please.”

She rung us up, and he insisted on paying, selecting a bottle of water for himself.

“Oh, what about Ralph?”

“He already grabbed a coffee. Shall we?”

We walked back out to the car when the smell of fast food hit me. Specifically hash browns. “Do you mind if we go through the drive-thru?”

There was that smirk again. I bet the man didn’t eat anything fried, let alone use a drive-thru. If this was a game of get-to-know you, this drive was the speed round. There was no way to spend the next twenty-four hours with one another without getting real. And right now, I really wanted hash browns.

“Not at all.”

Five minutes later, I was settled in for the ride with my egg sandwich and hash browns. Even Ralph had ordered a sandwich, but not Simon.

“You’re not hungry?” I popped one of the round, more tater tot than actual hash brown, things into my mouth.

“No. I ate this morning.”

“What did you have?” It was clear he stayed fit, but how strict was his diet?

“A protein shake and some fruit.”

“No Frosted Flakes?”

“I reserve those for special occasions.”

“Do you want to try a hash brown?” I wondered if I could tempt him. Perhaps it was a metaphor for something bigger when it came to the two of us.

I thought he’d decline, but instead, he leaned in and captured the hash brown with his teeth where I’d been holding it between my index finger and thumb. I felt his lips ghost my skin, and I was on fire.

He seemed unaffected by the action. “Is this what you typically have for breakfast?”

“No. I eat healthy, too. Most of the time. Or more like fifty-fifty if I’m being honest.” I certainly tried most days. Weekends, however were a free pass. If one was in one’s pajamas, then what was the point of being healthy?

“I wasn’t criticizing. Just noticing the look of bliss that came over your face when you took your first bite.”

“Probably because I haven’t had it in a while. What are you planning to eat?”

“I have a cooler of items in the back. Fruit. Cheese. Protein bars. I packed plenty. Feel free to help yourself.”

“No junk food?”

He leaned over, stealing another hash brown. “Nope. But we can stop for lunch anywhere you choose.”

Four hours later, at the designated place for the driver swap, I chose Panera for lunch. Although I did love me some fast food, breakfast had been enough. Now I needed real food in the form of a half sandwich and salad. Simon chose soup and a sandwich. We climbed back into the car and settled in for lunch. After that, he pulled out a laptop.

I frowned, thinking I should probably check email as well. The action of working clicked off another two hours before I became restless. We weren’t even halfway there.

As if sensing my mood, he glanced over. “You all right?”

“Yep.” Nope. I was bored. I’d never been cooped up in a vehicle this long. It couldn’t be pleasant for him, either. Suddenly I had a burning question on my mind that couldn’t wait another second. “Why are you doing this for me?”

He shut his laptop, giving me his full attention. “Because I think you’re the most qualified—”

I cut him off. “No. Why are you driving with me? You could’ve flown and avoided this.”

“Maybe I needed to ensure you didn’t turn around at the ten-hour mark.”

I blew out a breath, stretching my legs out in front of me. “It is tempting. I’m not used to being in a car this long.”

“What shall we do to distract you?”

His teasing tone and sexy smirk inspired a few very naughty ideas.

He must’ve read them on my face. “Keep looking at me that way.” Now it was his turn to blow out a breath.

Could I help it if I wanted to press the boundaries, see if he was as affected by me as I was with his presence? “What way is that?”

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“Maybe I do.”

His expression darkened before he snagged my legs up to his lap and slipped off my shoes.

“What are you doing?” This was the moment I sincerely hoped my feet didn’t smell. Not cool.

I worried up until the point his hands went to work on the arch of my foot, and I practically moaned.

He paused, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes.

“Sorry. The massage feels really good.” Talk about mixed signals. Then again, as he rubbed my feet, I wasn’t sure I cared. The man was going to reduce me to a pile of mush.

“Don’t apologize.”

Given how easily I offered them and the fact he couldn’t, I wondered if I’d offended him.

“I like that sound of pleasure coming from you,” he explained.

He hit a sensitive part of my foot, which had me biting my lip. Suddenly, I wondered if he had an intention of inspiring that sound later.

***

At the twenty-four-hour, thirty-six-minute mark we finally pulled up in front of a high rise in Manhattan. I felt as if I’d been hit by a truck. I might’ve been awestruck by the modern structure, marble-and-glass lobby, or decadent décor if I hadn’t been deliriously exhausted. I’d tried to sleep again. Simon had offered his lap, then his shoulder. But to no avail. All I’d managed was an hour or two here or there.

He, on the other hand, didn’t look any the worse for wear. He took my bag and led me into the elevator. At that point, it dawned on me I hadn’t seen a sign for the hotel. “What is the name of this place?” Not that I cared a lot, but I found it strange the lobby didn’t resemble a hotel, either.

“Park Tower Two.”

Although I might not travel, I’d heard of some brands but not this one. “What hotel is that?”

“It’s not. It’s a residence building.”

“Whose?”

“Mine.”

Okay. Now we’d gone from mixed signals to a full-on neon sign telling me this had just become very personal. The elevator dinged at floor thirty. I had no choice but to follow him off and down the hall. He took out a key and opened the third door to the left.

“This is your place?”

“Yes. Come on. You’re knackered and need to get some proper sleep. You want some water? There should be some in the fridge.”

I stepped inside the spacious condo, noting the tasteful living area of a couch and loveseat facing a picturesque window with a view of the city. It was an open floor plan, including a kitchen sporting modern appliances and a sit-in island with two stools. While he was busy checking the thermostat and walking back to where I assumed the bedroom was, I opened the fridge. It was fully stocked.

As I grabbed a water bottle, I felt completely confused about having been taken to Simon’s place. The burning question was why?

“Let me show you to your room.” He came back and tugged on my hand to lead me down the hall. “There is an en-suite bathroom.”

We walked into a huge master bedroom that also had a window view of the city beneath. “But this is your bedroom.” Why wasn’t he getting this was weird?

“It’s okay. I’ll be up for a while, and if I want to nap, I’ll take the guest room.”

His hand remained in mine while he watched me carefully. Unable to restrain the words burning in my mind, I had to ask. “Why here and not a hotel room?”

He frowned before pulling away and grabbing some towels out of the hall closet. “Here are some fresh towels. There are toiletries in there, too. Help yourself. I’ll order lunch for around one pm in case you get hungry.”

“Simon, why here?”

He turned, the expression on his face telling me he was having a tough time finding the words. “How about we discuss it after your interview? Unless you’re uncomfortable. In which case, I can have you in a hotel down the block in the next fifteen minutes.”

Vulnerability. It lingered in his eyes. I had a choice: either see this how this played out or leave never knowing. “I’ll stay.”

I had no clue if he needed more time to come up with a reason, or if he simply didn’t want to let things get too complicated before I had my interview for the CFO position. Either way, I was a too exhausted to ask him any more questions on a subject he himself didn’t seem ready to address. “Okay. I’m going to take a shower and sleep till noon.” That would give me a few hours.

He stepped closer, laying a hand on the side of my face. “Sleep well.”