Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

PAYTON

T his man. Lord, this man.

I often teased Lennie about his loss for words, but he was not lost for anything in bed. The total opposite. The way he took control? His dirty words and wicked tongue? He was demanding and so fucking sexy. Like when he was on the job. A total power top that made this needy bottom so happy that I could die right now and have no regrets.

But the best part? His kisses. No question, no doubt. The man knew how to kiss.

Even though I'd started to come down from my orgasm high, my heart was still beating a wild rhythm. And when Lennie collapsed beside me on the bed and pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could hardly breathe, I wanted to stay. Against all logic and reason, I wanted to stay.

"You okay, Angel?"

I was giddy every time he called me by that name. It was silly, really. Or maybe not. Lennie wasn't the type of guy who threw out cute nicknames for fun. Then again, he wasn't the type to marry a man on impulse, either.

Leaning back, I glanced up and caught the intense look in his baby blues. Lennie's expression was so serious, like he wanted to say something important.

I nervously licked my lips. "I…yeah. I…uh?—"

Shit.

Lennie's laugh was deliciously dirty. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Yes," I huffed. "Me, of all people."

Lennie laughed and pulled me in for another crushing hug. "Say it ain't so. I love to hear you talk."

"Really? I've been told that I can be a bit much."

"Are you kidding?" He gently kissed the top of my head and I swear my heart fluttered. "I could listen to you talk all day. You may not be a singer, but to me, your voice is like music. Being around you has been the highlight of my day for over a year."

"Lennie," I whispered as I looked up at him again. "What took you so long to tell me?"

Lennie chuckled. "I've already admitted that you're way out of my league. Why would you bother with me when you can have any man you want?"

"I don't want any man. The only man I've wanted is you."

My blunt admission hung in the air between us. Oh fuck. I started to pull away, but Lennie held tight.

"I heard you. I can't believe it, but I heard you. No take backs."

He leaned over and kissed me, silencing any further denials.

"So, what are we doing?" I asked him when he let me come up for air.

"Well, we are married—" Lennie started.

I reached down and pinched his ass.

"Ow. What? It's the truth," he replied.

"And now it's complicated," I sighed.

"Not at all. We divorce, then we date. Simple."

"That's not the right order of things," I chuckled.

"This is you and me. We do what feels right to us."

"What do you want?"

Lennie waggled his eyebrows. "Take one guess, hot stuff."

"Besides that. Do you really want to date me?"

"Isn't that what's been going on since our wedding?"

I pushed at Lennie's shoulders, and he lay down on his back. Straddling his waist, I looked down at him.

"You might wake up tomorrow and change your mind," I admitted.

"Same goes for you."

Suddenly, all the ‘what ifs' filled my head. What were we doing? Could this really work?

Bad enough we'd married each other, and now we'd gone and made everything even more confusing by having sex. Did he really want me for me, or was he reacting to the chaos of the past twenty-four hours?

He gently squeezed my waist, and I shook my head.

"I think I should go back to the spare bedroom," I admitted, my stomach clenched tight. "I need time to think about this."

"You do what you feel is right. In your heart," Lennie replied, placing a hand over my chest.

There was no denying how fast my heart was racing or the reason why. I placed my hand over his and we stared at each other. Fuck, I didn't want him to stop touching me. But I needed a moment to catch my breath. To think. Too often, I was impulsive—hello Vegas wedding—and it led nowhere good. The last thing I needed was a messy situationship, one that spilled over into my work life. And his.

It's Lennie. He wouldn't do that. You're just scared.

"Take the time you need. I'm not going anywhere," Lennie added, his eyes never leaving mine.

I nodded and reluctantly slid off him, off the bed, reaching for my pants. It was difficult to move, never mind speak.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Angel? I'm not going anywhere," he repeated.

I turned to face him. "I understand. And I'm sorry."

Lennie shook his head and smiled at me.

"Nothing to be sorry about. I have no regrets when it comes to you. None."

That was the ironic part. I didn't want to cause him any. And yet, I still walked out of his bedroom.

What was worse? I didn't look back.

Sleep eventually came, but hours later, and not for long.

My phone alarm sounded at eight. I rolled over, and my first thought was, ‘ where's Lennie ?', then I realized that I was in the wrong bed. And with the early morning light came the realization that, yet again, I'd fucked up.

Only, it wasn't marrying Len. It was pushing him away last night.

My phone pinged with a reminder about our appointment with Elias. About the divorce. Shit. My stomach was one giant knot.

Mechanically, I forced myself to get up and headed for the bathroom. After taking a long, hot shower, I slowly got dressed. Nothing flashy today. Black jeans, a grey silk blouse, and patent booties. It felt like I was dressing for a funeral. I guess the death of a marriage qualified. Even one that never existed to begin with.

But unlike our wedding, I recalled every single detail from last night. I touched my bare lips, still swollen, and smiled when I thought about kissing Len. There was passion and heat, not to mention a million butterflies. And the way he looked at me? Despite my fears, I knew it was special.

Maybe not anymore. Not after I left him lying there.

My heart took off running and my stomach dropped out. Leaning over the sink, I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Lennie was so protective, possessive even, and yet, when I wanted to leave, he was gentle, like he knew if he pushed, I'd run faster and farther. He knew. He fucking knew me. That was the scariest revelation of all.

I reached for my makeup bag and began to do my face, the routine a necessary tonic for my nerves. Concealer—given the dark circles under my eyes—and touch of blush, and mascara. I'd save the lip gloss for after breakfast. That is, if I could eat.

It was going to be hella awkward when I walked down those stairs.

Grow up, Payton.

I'd had plenty of one-night stands. It was just sex. Then I looked at my reflection, at the lovesick expression on my face.

Just sex, my ass.

With one last look, I gathered up my stuff and headed back into the bedroom. I packed away my lace pants and then realized I'd left the top in Lennie's bedroom. It was ripped anyway, so it's not like I could use it again. Pushing the image of Lennie desperately trying to get me naked out of my head, I grabbed my suitcase and headed down the stairs.

Walking down the hallway to the kitchen, I spotted Lennie at the stove. In slim-fit jeans, a navy crewneck sweater, and bare feet, he was humming a tune and cooking. His hair was still wet, sticking up on end, and he had a tea towel slung over one shoulder.

My heart literally ached looking at him. Too late, he glanced up and caught me staring.

"Morning," he smiled and turned off the burner.

"Morning."

I sauntered into the kitchen but hesitated at the last moment. It was not like me at all.

"Espresso?" Lennie asked.

"Please and thanks," I replied and walked over to the stove. "Anything I can help with?"

"The gravy's done. Biscuits are in the oven. Hungry?"

Oh darling, not for food.

"Lennie, I?—"

"Don't, Payton. It's fine. You're entitled to change your mind, all right?"

Lennie was back in brisk work mode. And I hadn't changed my mind; I freaked out. But I was too scared to tell him.

He turned away and started making our espressos, then placed them on the breakfast counter. I stared into the pot of gravy and absently reached for the spoon, stirring it. The smell was wonderful, but my stomach was clenched so tight there was no way I was going to be able to eat.

When a timer pinged, I glanced around for his potholders. Until Lennie placed his hands on my hips and gently moved me out aside so he could pull the biscuits from the oven.

"Can you grab two plates?" he asked me.

Now that I'd cooked in his kitchen, with his Nonna, I had familiarity with where everything was located. I opened the cupboard door near the fridge and grabbed two large plates, then passed them over to Len.

"Thanks. Go have a seat and I'll plate this up," he replied. "I hope you enjoy this. To be honest, I buy the frozen biscuits, but I made the gravy from scratch."

God, how could he make normal conversation after last night? But this was what I wanted, right? Back to normal. After all, flirting with a man I worked with was one thing. A relationship was a whole other story.

Like a zombie, I shuffled over to the breakfast bar and slowly sat on one of the stools.

"How did you sleep?" Lennie asked. "Do you want juice? Water? I've got?—"

"Okay, stop," I blurted out. "Can we talk about what happened last night instead of acting like it never did?"

Lennie placed a hot biscuit on each plate, cut them in half, and then spooned over the gravy. When he picked up the plates, I noticed the slight tremble in his hands. He set them down slowly and took the seat beside me.

"I thought you wanted space," he replied quietly. "And that meant not talking about it."

I stared at the food in front of me. "I can't do this."

"Look, as soon as we're done with Elias and Zoe, I'll drive you home."

"Not that! The food smells delicious, but I can't eat. My stomach's tied up in knots. And it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes, you, Leonardo!" I stared at him. "Why did you have to kiss me like that?"

"Like what?" Lennie chuckled, which only made my temper spark. "Like, I wanted to? And hey, you kissed me back."

"Why is this so funny?" I demanded.

"There's nothing funny about this situation, Angel. But your reaction is. We kissed, we came, it was nice. You don't want to make anything more of it, so I'm not." He paused. "Salt? Pepper?"

"No, I don't want salt or pepper! Nice? Nice! I've never been so insulted in my entire life!" I snapped.

"Payton, you need to take a deep breath and take a large sip of your coffee, okay?"

"I…you…don't?—"

This man had me totally out of my depth. And, out of words.

"Relax and eat your breakfast, sweetheart."

"Don't tell me to relax," I huffed. "And I'm not your sweetheart."

I wish.

Lennie's head fell back, and he stared up at the ceiling. "Dio mio."

He reached for his cup, took a long sip, and sighed. Then he put one arm around the back of my chair and leaned over. So close, I could smell the soap he used, warm and spicy, and the sweet coffee on his breath.

"What did I tell you last night?"

"When you were coming, or afterward?" I replied tartly.

"Don't sass me," Lennie growled. "What did I tell you?"

"That you're—" I paused and reached for my espresso, my hand shaking. "You're not going anywhere."

I took a sip of coffee to distract myself from his intense perusal. But when Lennie sweetly kissed the top of my head, I started choking.

"You okay, Angel?" he asked me as he patted my back.

"Good. Fine," I croaked, barely able to get the words out. "Give me warning next time."

"Sorry. My bad. You're too damn irresistible."

How could I argue with that?