23. Sunny

I didn"t knowwhat was more surprising. That I actually got up the nerve to ask Cole "Triple Ice" Benton if I could sleep—just sleep—with him.

Or that he said yes.

And by said yes, I mean commanded me, "Wear pajamas."

Then walked up to his room and left the door open.

He was under the covers, all tucked in, by the time I joined him dressed in my usual baggy, red Benton Girls t-shirt, sleep shorts, and carrying my silk pillow, even though my relaxed wave extensions were a good week past needing to be removed.

The room was dim, but the entire exterior wall was covered in glass, so Vegas gave me plenty of light to work with as I swapped out the cotton pillow on the right side of the bed and crept under the covers as quietly as I could.

But not quietly enough.

"GoNoTo, sleep sequence," Cole commanded some unseen device as soon as I laid my head down on my silk pillow.

There came a whirring sound, and the windows tinted over, covering up the neon-lit night sky of Vegas as completely as blackout curtains would have.

"Good night, Cole," I whispered.

"Good night, Sunny." His voice somehow came out even darker than the room"s pitch-black.

I swallowed. And it occurred to me to say, "Thank you. I know I"m invading your space, and I saw that no sleeping over clause in the contract. So, um, thank you for making an exception for me."

No answer, and he stayed silent for so long that I gave up on getting a response. But I had the feeling he hadn"t fallen asleep on his side of the bed, even as I faded to black on mine...

...only to wake up on his side of the bed, my entire body plastered against his.

Apparently, The House liked to cuddle.

I found myself wrapped—actually, more like completely enveloped—inside Cole"s arms.

His upper leg rested at an angle over both of mine, securing them against his lower one. Both of his arms encircled me. One wrapped around my waist from below, while the other was positioned diagonally across my back, with a hand cradling my head against his chest.I could feel the ridge of his now-stubbled chin resting against the side of my forehead. And another ridge—much longer and harder—was pressing into my core.

What on earth? He must have pulled me into his arms at some point between last night and this morning. Perhaps unconsciously. His steady breathinglet me know that, unlike when I thanked him, he was truly asleep.

Either way, I couldn"t easily extract myself from his strangely complete lock-in of a hold. And the hard length pressing into my core was starting to make my body tingle.

I should probably wake him up.

This wasn"t real. None of it was real.

But the way he was holding me felt like a hug—a hug I didn"t realize I needed until I woke up in Cole"s arms.

With a contented sigh, I nuzzled my face into his chest, letting myself revel in the feeling of being held—safe, and protected from men like the one who tried to attack me last night.

For a few moments, I felt completely at peace—until an alarm blared in the distance, and with another whirring sound, the windows untinted, filling the room up with light.

Cole came awake with a jerk.

But he didn"t immediately let me go. "You"re awake."

A statement. Not a question.

"Yeah, um...good morning?"

A long, silent beat. Then he abruptly let me out of his full-body hold without another word. "You should use the guest bathroom to get ready."

"Yeah, of course."

I awkwardly took myself and my pillow out of Cole"s bedroom as quickly as I could and emptied my bladder, as instructed, in the guest bathroom, which, just like the rest of the penthouse, had a black-and-white chessboard theme.

It was beginning to feel like a reflection of how the ruthless CEO of Benton Worldwide saw the world. A black-and-white game of strategy and intent.

Anyway, the door to Cole"s bedroom was closed when I emerged from the guest bathroom.

As if to say,Exception Over.

I"m definitely going to need coffee to get through this.

I padded downstairs, in desperate need of a morning cup—only to end up staring down the GoNoTo Barista robot taking up most of the kitchen counter. Wondering how I could get the chrome monster to just pour out a simple stream of coffee into the white cup I"d place underneath its main spigot.

Maybe I should pray to it?Forswear my grandmother"s religion and pledge my fealty to my new coffee machine overlord?

"Turn the knob on the right, then press the button on your left and hold it down."

It took me a moment to realize it was Cole—not my new coffee machine overlord—telling me what to do.

"Oh, hey!" I spun around.

And immediately wished I hadn"t. My throat went completely dry, and all thoughts of coffee disappeared. I was awake. I was definitely awake.

Also, wondering out loud, before my coffee-less brain could catch up with my mouth, "How is it not against the law for you to appear anywhere in nothing but a pair of running tights?"

Cole looked down. "You"re aware I"m also wearing shoes and socks."

"You"re aware, the only thing anybody can see is all of that?" I circled a splayed hand in the general direction of his insanely well-defined torso. "Does The House enjoy shining his abs directly into my eyes before I"ve even had a chance to figure out how to make a coffee?"

Cole smirked. "Now you know how I felt when you wore that pink leotard."

"Touché," I admitted with a little bit of an inner preen."Revenge is a dish best served Cole."

Cole arched an eyebrow. "Did you just come up with that?"

"Yes!" I confessed, clasping my hands together. "And I"m so proud of myself!"

Cole"s lips twitched with something that looked an awful lot like amusement. "Do you want me to be nice and make you a cup of coffee before I go downstairs for my run?"

I scrunched my brow. "You know you don"t have to signal you"re being nice every time you do it, right?"

Instead of answering, Cole clasped my shoulders and moved me out of his way before he made me an admittedly delicious cup of morning cappuccino with the barista almond milk I"d pulled out of his black refrigerator.

"You"re not going to make yourself one?" I asked when he did a series of maneuvers to turn off the machine. Like an astronaut.

"Every day but Saturday, I work out from six to six forty-five. Then I shower and go downstairs for breakfast at one of our restaurants.My way of assuring the Benton waitstaff is at their best every day."

"Also, yum, breakfast."

Cole just looked at me like the idea of eating food without an employee evaluation agenda was completely foreign to him.

"Okay, then." I shook my head. "See you at one thirty-seven this afternoon?"

"Most likely later than that," Cole answered with a clenched jaw. "I work until six on weekends."

"And on weekdays?"

"Nine."

"Wow." I knew I wasn"t one to talk, but I felt compelled to point out to the CEO, who wasn"t currently trying to make up for a horrible six-figure mistake, "That"s a lot of work."

He rolled his neck, as if my observation was cramping it somehow. "Undoing the damage my father did required a lot of work."

"Sure, sure," I agreed, nodding. "But didn"t you, like, already do that work? I only skimmed that end-of-the-year State of the Business email you sent around in December..." Instead of a holiday greeting, like a total corporate robot, I silently added. "But I"m pretty sure I recall something about record profits."

Cole regarded me for a long, hard second. Then said, "You should join me."

"For work? I"m not sure how that would?—"

"For breakfast."

"Oh!" My heart lit up at the invitation—not to mention my tummy. But then, I winced down at my pajamas. "I don"t have anything much better than this. Basically, my whole wardrobe is themed around whether I could wear it to a Benton Girls rehearsal, too, so my brunch outfit game is very Midwestern tourist. I imagine you would wear..."

"I wear a suit whenever I step out of the penthouse, unless it"s for a game of golf, yes," he finished for me."I'll have Agnes send something up. Meanwhile, you can go downstairs to health services and get your blood drawn."

"Thank you," I said, wanting but sensing it would be useless to argue with him about whether poor Agnes needed to be texted before six a.m. to sort out a breakfast outfit.

Like a dutiful little ex-showgirl who had just signed a relationship contract, I went downstairs to a third floor medical concierge suite I didn"t even know existed to get my blood drawn for my STD panel.

Then I checked all my messages on the way back to the penthouse on the no-longer-dead phone I"d charged overnight.

There were several text messages from Tony.

Mi amor, I won the fight! Where are you?

Did you go home? Cherenity wants to say hi. Look at us. Aren"t we iconic???

I couldn"t help but smile at the picture taken in the concrete hallway of the warehouse"s "backstage." He had a black eye and several bruises on his upper torso, but he was grinning widely, with his arm around the waist of his much taller girlfriend—who yes, did look like the spitting image of a 1960's version of a certain entertainment icon.

Okay, looks like you went home. You"re not murdered, right? Right??? Oh, shit, now I"m scared.

His increasingly worried texts were followed up by a much cheerier one around five that morning.

Okay, texted Pru. She says you"re booed up IN THE BENTON PENTHOUSE!!! Why didn"t you tell me you and Cole Benton were engaged???? Bitch, ENGAGED!!! Call me! Call me! You should have led with that, even if I was crying. Anyway, Mimosa Brunch with Pru and me?

Next came a voice text from Pru, asking whether I was alright and what I was doing in North Las Vegas for approximately forty minutes in the middle of the night before returning to Cole"s penthouse suite a little after one in the morning. (Pru didn"t consider you a real friend unless she could lovingly stalk your location with one of her black-op phone tracking apps whenever you were apart.)

Then came another voice text, asking why did Tony think I"d been murdered and whether I wanted to do Saturday brunch.

After several mental calculations, I typed out...

Hey hey, just checking in. Already miss seeing your face most days. Everything"s fine, tho. I was supporting Tony. And before you ask, he"s not bearding again. He just had a fight. Sorry, can"t go to Mimosa Drag Brunch with you. I already have plans with Cole.

I pressed send on the text just as I got back to the penthouse suite and keyed in the code. Hopefully, that was enough to satisfy Pru"s curiosity about why I called her last night without leaving a—Holy moly!

I stopped short inside the doorway. I found a living room filled with boxes and wardrobe bags emblazoned with the names of stores I'd never stepped foot in before.

Because I knew I couldn't afford anything they were selling.

What in the world?

After a casual inventory of the items, I discovered there wasn't just stuff for me to wear when I was out and about with Cole. There were also exercise clothes, jeans, loungewear, and underwear. Lots and lots of underthings. Enough bra and panty sets to stock an entire Victoria's Secret fashion show, including silk teddies. My cheeks went into total burn mode.

"The clothes are too much," I told Agnes when Cole's assistant called to get my breakfast order.

Apparently, Cole didn't like to waste even the time it took to put in an in-person order.

"I won't be needing most of this stuff. Can I just pick out a couple of things to get me through the next few weeks and send the rest back?"

"If Mr. Benton approves that request, I'll be happy to arrange that for you."

I twisted my mouth, seeing exactly what Agnes had done there. "But there's no way he'd approve it, right?"

"It's not my place to speak for Mr. Benton, but I highly doubt it."

"Okay, fine." I gave in with a huff."But can I ask if this is usual? Like, does he always buy entire high-end designer wardrobes for the women he dates?"

I could sense Agnes's hesitation, and I wondered if she'd even answer. But then Agnes lowered her voice and said, "The truth is, most of the women Mr. Benton dates come with designer wardrobes. The full package, so to speak. I've never had to arrange for a toothbrush for one of Mr. Benton's dates, much less an entire wardrobe."

"Oh, okay." My voice sounded far away, even to my own ears. And a queasy feeling churned in my stomach, threatening to send the coffee back up. But I swallow the nausea down to say, "Well, thanks for the clothes. They"re, um…really nice."

Then I quickly hung up the phone before I could ask Agnes any more questions I didn"t truly want answered.

Still, her words continued to ring in my ears as I sat down to breakfast—really, seven thirty on a Sunday was too damn early for a meal to respectably call itself brunch.

"The truth is, most of the women Mr. Benton dates come with designer wardrobes. The full package, so to speak."

What did he even see in me, then? Why did he offer me a relationship contract when it was so obvious I was nothing like the women he preferred? I thought of Juliet, with her petite body and chic haircut. Not to mention that beautiful coat, which definitely hadn"t been happily taken from the Benton Girl wardrobe when they updated the holiday show costumes six years ago. Was that his type before his grandma requested he get engaged to me as her dying wish?

My negative spiral was interrupted by the arrival of a waiter with our entrees and another to refill our coffee cups.

Maybe I shouldn"t have been surprised that Cole didn"t say much to me as we ate.

He ate in mechanical silence, only stopping occasionally to checkhis phone. As if he"d rather be anywhere else than on a fake breakfast date with me.

I stood up the tenth time he paused eating to check his phone, even though my breakfast was only half finished.

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking at me directly for the first time since I'd arrived.

"I don't know," I answered, fingering the diagonal ruffle on the coral-colored silk romper I'd decided to wear to breakfast. "I was thinking of going upstairs to watch some Soft Life reels to figure out what to do with myself now that I don"t have a job. Or maybe I"ll go to the community center and work on the routine for Wednesday"s afternoon class. You know, actually do the half a job I have left? Unless, you"ve had the door locked to the dance classroom and told the building manager I can"t work there, either."

"No, you can keep that one job," he answered with a sharp look. "But you"re aware we still have thirteen minutes allotted for breakfast?"

I shrugged. "Sorry. I guess getting ignoredhas killed my appetite."

A beat passed, and then Cole very deliberately set down his phone. "You think I'm ignoring you?"

"I don't have to think anything. I've been living it for the last seventeen minutes."

Cole drew back, his eyes narrowing.

And I realized how absolutely whiny I sounded. Boo-hoo! I"m not allowed to work to pay you the money that should have never been stolen in the first place. Wah-wah, you"ve been quiet for seventeen minutes while I wallowed in my negativity spiral.

"I"m sorry." I shook my head. "I think I"m just tired from last night. I should probably go back upstairs and sleep..." I waved in the general direction of my head. "…whatever this is off."

Cole regarded me, then said,"Sit down."The commanding tone—and the icy stare that went with it—was back.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off with a reminder. "We're in public, Sunny. Sit down."

I sat down. He was right. Getting into a petty argument in one of the Benton restaurants wouldn't exactly sell our romance.

When I was once again seated, I waited for him to lambaste me for almost making a scene, but instead, he leaned forward. "You have great legs. Actually, you have great everything, but the outfit you're wearing really highlights your legs."

"Thank you?" I said carefully, appreciating the unexpected compliment but wondering where it was coming from, considering I just blew up at him like a spoiled brat for not paying me enough attention.

"The thing is," he said in a tone I could only describe as detached academic, "I want those legs around my waist, holding onto me tight while I take you. I can barely look at you. I can barely think—actually, that"s not true. All I"ve thought about for the last seventeen minutes that I"ve been quote-unquote ignoring you is tearing that outfit off your delectable body."

For a moment, I was struck speechless. But then I remembered the tenth phone check that had snapped my fragile ego. "Then why do you keep checking your phone, like you have more important places to be?"

He picked up his phone and turned it toward me. There was a clock open on it, one that was running backward. I squinted at it, confused, not understanding why he was showing me his screen.

But then I realized that when the clock ran out, it would be...almost two p.m. Twelve hours since Cole informed me he would like for us to have sex.

"You're, ah…" I couldn't finish, I was so embarrassed.

"Highly anticipating taking a late lunch hour today," he finished for me. He put his phone back in the suit"s inside breast pocket. "You think I'm ignoring you. I'm doing everything in my power to keep my hands off of you."

I couldn't hide the wicked smile that came to my face. I, too, was more than a little turned on by the prospect of hooking up with Cole later in the afternoon. Ever since I woke up, I"d been thinking about the erection digging into my core. So it was nice to know I wasn't the only one affected by the delay.

I slipped my foot out of my shoe. "I'm sorry to hear you're suffering, Cole." I raised my leg and pressed my foot lightly into Cole's crotch. "But here, maybe I can help you…."

I kept my body language casual for the outside world, but I pressed my foot even farther between Cole's legs and was instantly rewarded when I felt him go hard underneath the bare pad of my foot.

"Sunny…" His tone was a low warning.

"Sorry, sorry," I said again, this time not meaning it. I pulled my foot away and put it back in my shoe with a saucy smile. "I probably shouldn't have done that. I wouldn't want you to lose control."

Cole sighed and set down his fork.

"I'm going to let you leave our breakfast date early, but whatever you decide to do with the rest of your morning..." He leaned forward, his green blazing into mine. "…be back in the penthouse, waiting for me on the couch in that coral romper, at one thirty-seven p.m."

An incongruously hot chill went down my back, and I felt myself clench below in anticipation. I smiled, rising from the table. "Okay. See you later, Cole."

You know, me not being his usual type might not be such a bad thing, I thought smugly as I walked away with a new attitude.

"That behavior"s going straight on your punishment list," he said behind me.

And God help me, I couldn"t help the weird, delicious thrill that ran up my back.