Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Give me the information,” I say.
“Are you going to get her? Skye will be so happy!”
“I’ll figure something out. The information, Tessa.”
“Right. She’s puppy number 347. A Heeler mix. Black with white markings.”
“You remember her number?”
“I have a way with numbers,” she says again.
“I’m glad you do,” I tell her. “I’ll call my driver in Boston and have him pick up the pup. Don’t tell Skye, though. I want to surprise her.”
“Braden, thank you!” Tessa gushes. “If there’s anything I can ever do for you, please, I’ll do it.”
I chuckle slightly. “I can’t think of anything at the moment. Thank you for letting me know about the puppy, Tessa.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you. Skye’s the luckiest woman ever. Bye.”
I text the information to Christopher quickly, hoping it’s not too late.
An hour and a half later, I get a text back from him.
Congratulations. It’s a girl.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I return to my Boston penthouse early in the afternoon on Saturday.
I’ve purposefully thrown myself into my work the last two days in Manhattan, purposefully not called or texted Skye. Purposefully stayed off Instagram.
I needed a clear head to finish up the business with Foster McCain, and while I was in Manhattan, I took care of some other loose ends as well.
Try as I might, though, my thoughts never fully strayed from Skye.
She’ll most likely be angry that I haven’t been in contact with her. Why shouldn’t she be?
Normally, when I’m seeing a woman, I don’t mix business with pleasure. I don’t think about her at all while I’m working. Only when we’re together. So naturally, I don’t call and text often when we’re not together. I’m determined not to do things differently with Skye, which is why I haven’t communicated with her since her text about the pearl choker.
The difference, though?
I’ve wanted to.
Every time I look at my phone, I think about giving her a quick call or sending her a quick text. Even just checking Instagram.
Every time I check email—which is a lot—I think about writing to her, just to see how she’s doing.
I stayed strong, though. I did not.
Skye’s puppy is adorable and already a terrific playmate for Sasha. She’ll keep Annika and Christopher on their toes. I spend a few minutes playing with her and letting her lick my face before I head to my bedroom to shower.
My date with Skye for the gala tonight is still on, and I’ll be there at six as promised.
Once I’m clad in one of my tailored tuxes and in the car with Christopher at the wheel and a bouquet of bloodred roses and the plain black eye mask from New York sitting next to me, the nipple clamps securely in my pocket, I finally succumb. I’ll check Instagram. That will tell me what Skye’s been up to. I click on her profile.
She’s been busy. The first post is a selfie of her pretty face sans makeup and shiny with sweat after a yoga class.
Who loves yoga? I do! Check out the relaxing atmosphere at Wildflower Yoga. #yoga #treatyourself #youknowyouwanto
I smile. She looks so fresh and happy. The post shows a real person, not a fake Addison Ames clone in a posed post.
Skye is going to be good at this. Really good. Better than she can even imagine at this point.
The next post is Skye at a bakery in front of a display of baguettes. Her smile is addictive.
Need bread? Check out Le Grand Pain! Best baguettes around! (And if you need a special cake for your bachelor/bachelorette function, LGP can hook you up!) @LeGrandPain #sponsored #bakery #bread #baguettes #getyourglutenon #breadisgoodfood #soiscake
I smile at the hashtags. She’s on fire.
A new post pops up just then.
Damn. Skye, in the dress. The dress I had made. The dress I will most likely destroy again. Her makeup is flawless and her lovely hair is swept up into a messy bun that showcases that gorgeous neck of hers.
She’s not wearing the choker.
I grit my teeth. Did she forget?
Wearing my Cherry Russet lip stain by @susannecosmetics again. My go-to color is perfect for everything from a day at home to a formal evening! #sponsored #lips #kissme #formal #littleblackdress
The color is lovely on her sexy lips, but did she forget I asked for bloodred?
A not-so-subtle reminder of who’s in charge may be warranted.
Christopher pulls the car up to Skye’s building. I grab the roses, secure the mask over my eyes—to give myself a little mystery—and head up to her place.
I try to eliminate the pounding of my heart as I secure the mask in place and knock on her door.
She opens the door.
Her jaw drops.
Though I’m tempted to drop my own jaw, I lock it firmly in place.
It’s not easy, though.
Skye looks devastatingly beautiful. The dress and the hairstyle I’ve already seen in the post, but she’s one hundred times better in person. Her long, lean legs are bare, and her pretty feet—toes painted red—are strapped into silver sandals.