Chapter 3-1
1390 Words
Chapter 3
MYLES HAD THE POPCORN on the stove and some of the kitchen chairs hauled into the middle of the living room floor by the time Piper came back out. He tried not to notice how the little tank top hugged her curves, but failed miserably. It wasn’t that there was more skin exposed than there had been in the dress. It was the intimacy of seeing her in pjs. Didn’t matter that he’d seen Skye in the same ones. He sure as hell hadn’t been fantasizing about her for the last six months.
Piper crossed her arms, plumping up the breasts he was trying not to ogle.
“You want a sweatshirt or something? I didn’t think about you getting cold.” Please say yes. Myles had every intention of being a gentleman, but his will-power was only so strong.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh.” He lifted the edge of the comforter and finished draping it over the chairs. “I made you a blanket fort.”
“A blanket fort?” The edge of confusion in her smile told him she didn’t get it.
“You did tell me once that was your favorite scene in The Holiday. I thought it’d be fun to watch it with you from a blanket fort.”
“That’s—”
Stupid? Silly? Crazy?
“—awesome.” She flashed him the smile that’d been haunting his dreams. “What can I do to help?”
“Go nab the rest of the pillows and comforter from the guest room.”
He grabbed her one of his sweatshirts, while she was at it, then went to check on the popcorn, which he barely saved from burning. By the time he’d dumped it all in a bowl and added salt, she’d also robbed the pillows from his room and some from the sofa and made a cozy little nest beneath the impromptu canopy in front of the TV. She’d also put on the sweatshirt—thank God.
He queued up the movie and crawled in to join her, loving that she immediately snuggled in. And then he could feel all those curves he was trying not to think about, despite the sweatshirt. But at least he had his arm around her. She balanced the popcorn on her lap, tossing some into her mouth as the title credits started.
“This was a fabulous idea,” she said.
“I had at least a couple dozen different plans for our first date during the hiatus. Karaoke among them.”
“Oh yeah?”
“But ultimately I decided I wanted you all to myself.” Myles turned his head, taking advantage of the fact that her hair was still pinned up to press another tiny kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear. Her shiver made him smile.
Piper turned her head, leveling those big brown eyes on his. “And what exactly are your plans for me, Mr. Stewart?”
“Something along the lines of making up for lost time,” he murmured.
She was the one who tipped forward, closing the distance between them. Myles hummed low in his throat as she fitted her mouth to his, no hesitation, just a slow, easy exploration. There’d been no time for this with any of their stage kisses. He knew the heat that lingered just below the surface, just waiting to hit flashpoint. He’d felt it the night he’d kissed her the first time, outside Speakeasy. Had dreamed of it in the months since. But he didn’t press. He’d follow whatever pace, whatever tone she set.
She shifted, twisting to better face him. Myles blindly set the popcorn aside, dimly grateful they hadn’t gotten around to opening the Cokes as she wrapped her arms around him and took the kiss deeper. He slid his hand beneath the sweatshirt, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin tank beneath.
Just a little touch.
Snaking his hand beneath the tank, he spread his palm against the small of her back. Piper let out a sexy little moan and opened to him, her tongue darting out to dance with his.
For a moment, Myles thought his butt cheek had gone to sleep from sitting on the floor. Then he realized his phone was vibrating in his pocket. He growled in annoyance, wishing it to silence.
Piper broke the kiss. “Do you need to get that?”
“Right now, I don’t care if the world is ending outside those doors. I’ve got good sturdy locks. They’ll keep the zombies out.”
“But what if it’s something to do with the Sunday edition?”
He tucked a lock of hair that’d fallen free back behind her ear. “I both love and hate that you thought of that.” Heaving a sigh, he wiggled until he could get his phone out of his back pocket. It’d stopped ringing, but the readout said the call was from Simone. “Crap. I should probably call her back.”
Piper sat back, straightening her sweatshirt and grabbing the bowl of popcorn.
“Just don’t—I’ll make this quick.”
Her feline smile made his blood heat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Myles crawled out of the blanket fort because there was no way he’d be able to concentrate with the temptation of Piper right there. “You want anything while I’m up?”
“Napkins. The popcorn is a little greasy, as all good popcorn should be.”
“You got it.” He hit the call button as he headed to the kitchen.
Simone answered on the first ring. “Bad time?”
“Kind of. Is this important?”
“Uh oh. That’s your you-better-not-c**k-block-me voice.”
“I do not have a tone for that.”
She laughed. “Don’t be lyin’. I knew you straight out of college.”
“I cannot be held accountable for my actions in the French Quarter at twenty-four. What do you need?”
“There was a development in the front page story for tomorrow. I wanted to go over the proposed changes. I’ll be quick.”
“Go then.”
He passed Piper some paper towels and switched on his editor mode. Simone was right. The whole conversation took less than ten minutes. He made his decisions and gave her last minute instructions for putting the paper to bed. Cameron Diaz’s character had just arrived at Rose Hill Cottage by the time he hung up. But for just a moment, he stood there, trying to switch the inner newspaperman back off. Because talking to Simone had brought the whole goddamned mess with his investor back to the forefront of his brain.
“Myles?” Piper had crawled out of the blanket fort. “Everything okay?”
He tossed the phone onto the end table and forced a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” Crossing to her, he laced his hands behind her back. “Now, where were we?”
She stopped his mouth with two fingers. “You forget, I’ve seen you act. Seriously, what’s wrong?”
Myles hesitated.
“I mean, you’re free to tell me it’s none of my business, but when people I care about are upset, I like to try to help.”
He loved that instant support, loved, too, the idea that he was someone she cared about. But did he really want to drag her into all of this? “It’s not that. It’s just—Hell. I’m not gonna be able to turn it off. Let’s go back to the fort for this story.”
“All things are better in a blanket fort,” she agreed.
He paused the movie and they set up on opposite sides this time, each leaning against a chair. Myles picked up one of her feet and began the foot rub he’d promised. “So, you know I’m editor of the paper. What you may not know—what very few people know—is that I also own it.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Aren’t newspapers usually owned by big conglomerates or whatever?” Her question trailed off on a moan as he dragged a knuckle down the arch of her foot. The sound almost derailed his brain entirely.
What was he saying? Oh, right.
“Often. Small-town ones less so. When I left Philadelphia, I wanted to take a struggling small town paper and turn it around. I wanted my stamp on it. My vision. The only way to ensure I was able to do that was to buy it outright.”
“That must have been crazy expensive.”
“It was. I couldn’t get a traditional loan to do it, and I didn’t have enough capital of my own. So, I had to take on an investor.”
She was an attentive audience, listening without interruption, as he spilled out the whole sorry tale.
“Basically, I’m out of options, unless I take Tucker’s suggestion and hit up Vegas.”
Amusement lit her eyes at that idea. “Well, you could go find yourself a showgirl on the strip. Or you could take the more obvious answer.”
“Which is?”
“Marry me.”
- Writer
