Starlight (The Morgans of New York) - Page 41

I’d plan on staying the night with Astrid, but I’ve rarely missed dropping Stevie off at school. I’ll book the same hotel again and let Astrid enjoy it until morning.

“Are you wining and dining a new client?”

Hesitantly, I shake my head. “No.”

“A current client?”

I rub my forehead. “It’s nothing like that.”

“What then?”

I scrub the back of my neck with my palm. I should have left his sandwich with Maren after I got her to agree to watch Stevie on Wednesday.

“You’re going on a date, aren’t you?” He smiles. “That’s what is happening, right?”

“I’m having dinner with someone.”

“Does this someone play guitar and find lost diary keys?”

“What the fuck?” I mutter.

“You owe to the fund now.” He reaches out to tap my shoulder. “It doesn’t take a detective to piece the clues together, Berk.”

“What clues?”

He taps his index finger against his palm. “Stevie mentioned that you thought Astrid was pretty, Gaines said you were suddenly into records, and Miss Rehn owns Vinyl Crush.”

I shake my head. “How do you know that?”

He mimes typing with both hands. “I looked her up online, Berk. Your daughter tossed a woman’s name out. What was I supposed to do? Ignore that?”

“It’s just a date, Keats,” I stress. “Don’t bring any of this up to Stevie.”

Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his pants, he steps closer to me. “I would never do that. My wife is the only person who knows you’re crushing on Astrid Rehn, and she’ll keep that under lock and key until you’re ready to share it with everyone.”

“It may never get to that point.”

“One step at a time, Berk.” He pats my cheek. “Enjoy yourself on Wednesday night. I’ll take good care of our little girl.”

I know he will. I trust my brother not only with my life but with Stevie’s too.

Chapter Thirty-One

Astrid

“You tricked me into wearing a suit, didn’t you?” Berk laughs as he looks me over.

I’m dressed for our second date in a pair of jeans and a white sweater. It’s an off-the-shoulder creation courtesy of my cousin. She knit it last winter, and when I slipped it on so she could take a photo, she grimaced. She claimed that she had made a mistake with the neckline, but I pushed it off my right shoulder and told her it was a keeper.

A few weeks later, she handed it to me wrapped in pretty holiday paper.

She told me it was a catastrophe, but if I wanted it, I needed to accept it as a Christmas gift.

I did with a smile on my face.

“I love how you look in a suit,” I confess. “I can change into something more formal if you want me to, but…”

I spin and wiggle my ass because I know how phenomenal it looks in these jeans.

“Jesus, Astrid,” he growls out the words. “Never take those off.”

I turn back around and drop my hands to the waistband. “Never?”

“I didn’t mean that literally.” He chuckles. “I want you to take them off.”

I play with him more by sliding my hands to the button on the jeans. “Now?”

“Yes.” His voice is hoarse. “I’m not hungry.”

I let out a small laugh. “I am. I want to take you to one of my favorite places in Manhattan.”

He studies my face. “I want to go there with you.”

“You don’t even know where it is,” I point out as I step closer to where he’s standing near the entrance to Vinyl Crush. “You’ll blindly go with me?”

He closes the distance between us with steady, sure steps. “I’d go anywhere if it meant I’d get to spend time with you.”

I pat a hand in the center of his chest. It’s rock solid. I imagine all of him is.

I shake that thought off because I can’t be daydreaming about the man’s cock. I have our evening planned out, and sex comes later after we’ve eaten and shared a drink.

He places a hand over mine and lowers his head to give me a soft kiss on the cheek. “Where are we headed?”

I tilt my chin up to offer my mouth to him. “It’s a surprise.”

He takes the hint and presses his lips to mine for a lush kiss.

When it breaks, I open my eyes to find him staring at me.

I could get used to this. To the kisses and the way butterflies flutter inside my stomach when he looks at me.

“I’m going to lock up,” I whisper. “Don’t move.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says before bringing my hand to his mouth to kiss my palm. “Take all the time you need.”

Berk glances around the interior of the small restaurant we walked to from my store. “How long has this place existed?”

I shrug a shoulder. “All I know is that it’s been here for at least fifteen years. My mom brought me here during my first trip to the city.”

Tags: Deborah Bladon Billionaire Romance
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