That’s what you get for thinking about Jared Mitchell’s kisses while running.
She reclaimed her rhythm. Then, she kicked the pace up a notch as she turned away from the Intracoastal Waterway and sprinted up her block.
Her eyes narrowed as she approached her front porch. If she got her hands on Jared Mitchell, she would shove a six-pack of mixed berry juice boxes into his waiting arms and demand he put an end to this ridiculous game.
She stopped by the front steps and scooped up the juice. Pouches this time. The note read: Drink on the beach?
She crumbled the slip of paper. Then she pushed through the front door and quietly tiptoed down the hall. After Emma caught her smuggling Jared’s gift into the house on Monday, Lucy had rescheduled her morning run for sunrise. Her friends felt compelled to comment on all aspects of her dating life. And while she appreciated commiseration—her ex was the biggest jerk on the planet—they didn’t need to know a billionaire was dangling a juice-box date in front of her.
And she was tempted to say yes just to see his lips wrap around the straw.
Hold your slippers, Cinderella. He’s not your prince.
Only a billionaire playboy looking for someone to entertain him for a while would woo her like this. Real men brought flowers.
She frowned and walked into the kitchen. Her ex had sent her flowers. All the time.
Along with notes handwritten by the florist explaining why he had to cancel their date, or how he had to spend the night at the hospital. After he’d moved to Boston, she’d realized he had sometimes considered his new girlfriend’s apartment the “hospital.”
I should update my dating profile. No flowers. And no presents.
She slipped into the pantry. Cradling the six-pack of mixed berry pouches, she closed the sliding door until a thin beam of light poured into the walk-in space lined with shelves. Another inch and the door would squeak and ruin her plan to hide this morning’s offering. She turned to the shelf and moved one of the large, plastic, airtight containers to the side. Then she deposited the juice on the shelf.
“You can hide your loot behind the sugar, but Nicole and I are on to you,” Emma called from the kitchen.
Busted. Lucy sighed and opened the pantry door.
“And we’re keeping count,” Emma added. “That’s the third set of boxes this week.”
Lucy stepped into the kitchen. “He sent pouches this time.”
“Who? The Juice Fairy?”
“Jared.”
“You have a billionaire juice fairy?” Emma reached for the coffee pot and filled her mug. “I don’t suppose you could turn him into the Tinker Bell of champagne? If he’s going to leave something on our doorstep each morning, I vote for D
om Perignon.” She raised her mug to her lips and grinned.
Lucy narrowed her eyes. “I’m not asking him—”
“Jared Mitchell, the Dom Fairy.” Emma’s bottom lip brushed the edge of her mug. “Your personal Dom Fairy.”
“He’s not mine.” Lucy sat on a barstool and rested her elbows on the counter. “We shared a moment at Hope Morgan’s party. He thought he rescued me. I spewed nonsense about wild sex, and he asked to share another juice box.”
Emma set her mug on the island with a thunk. “You discussed wild sex with Jared? Tell me everything.”
“Wild, tantric shower sex.” Lucy closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against her palms. “Which was stupid, ridiculous, and impossible. We were in Mr. Morgan’s home. I was working.”
“That’s why it was impossible? The location?” Emma shook her head. “We’ll get back to that. I want to know why Jared Mitchell, a walking, talking advertisement for orgasms, is wooing you. After you mentioned shower sex, did you tell your brother’s gorgeous and uber-wealthy friend that mixed berry juice is the way to your heart and your bed?”
“No—”
“Because if you did, I’m taking over your dating life. You clearly can’t be trusted.” Emma held out her hand. “Give me your phone right now. I’ll start by reviewing your profiles on all those apps you’ve joined.”
“I didn’t ask Jared to leave me presents. It’s just a thing. I gave him one the other night. We talked. And now he has this crazy idea that he’s my hero.”
“He’s not,” Emma said flatly.