Page 45 of Missed Communication
Open your door.
I’d already convinced myself that shutting down his irresistible flirting was the best choice, but I’m not going to leave him out in the hall in the middle of the night. I fling back the comforter and pad off into the living room, checking the peephole before opening the door.
“You should be in bed.”
“Should is the key word,” he sighs, but an adorable little smirk tilts his lips. “I only brought my clothes for tomorrow.”
Jamie holds up a suit bag, and even without knowing what the hell he has planned, there’s no way I’ll tell this man no. I open the door wider, and once he enters, he folds the bag over one of my dining chairs as I lock up.
“I have a closet, you know.” I snag it from the chair and march into my bedroom, hanging it in my closet. I expect him to follow me, but when I turn around, he’s not there. I return to the living room and he’s leaning against my dining table. “So… what are you doing here?”
“Come on. We need to get some sleep.” He pushes off the table and takes my hand, guiding me back into my bedroom. As he pulls back the comforter, he insists, “You need your rest.”
Confident I’ll wake up to a dick in my pussy at some point tonight, I eagerly get into bed when I really should tell him to go back to the hotel. He rounds it, then strips off his jeans and tosses them aside. Gripping the nape of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, tossing it next to his pants, then gets in bed with me, turning off his phone before placing it on the other nightstand.
None of this makes sense. I ask again, “What are you doing here?”
As he shifts onto his back, he offers an outstretched arm and pats his chest. “Get comfortable. I’m not going to be able to sleep until I know you’re already out.”
I turn out the light and move closer, resting my cheek on his firm chest. Jamie wraps his arm around me, pulling me to him. It’s a risk, but I sling my leg over his, making him my own personal body pillow. His slow strokes up and down my arm are soothing, not sexual, lulling me to sleep. His breathing evens out, and I instinctively snuggle closer.
“Thank you,” I murmur sleepily. I haven’t felt this comfortable since I left Canada, and there's exactly one reason why—Jamie. I shouldn’t get attached to spending the night with him, but there’s no harm in indulging myself tonight.
He kisses the top of my head, keeping his lips pressed against my hair as he whispers, “From now on, let me take care of you.”
I pretend to doze off as his promise ruminates with me. As a divorced woman, I’ll never let Jamie take care of me financially; I’ll never let him be a duplicate of my ex. I don’t want money to ever be an issue, and I have no intention of leaving my job. But if he wants to feed my soul, I’ll let him.
23
Jamie
The morning light glows through the curtains, and I shift my face away from it. The subtle movement has Aubrey stirring in my arms, sighing something unintelligible. I hold her tighter, savoring every last second before an alarm goes off. Staying over was purely selfish on my part; I’m tired of sleepless nights. It’s only been a month since the last time I woke up next to her, but it feels like years. If I take her up on the offer to stay for the week, how the fuck am I going to sleep alone in my own bed this weekend?
Carefully reaching for my phone, I turn it on. Within seconds, there are hundreds of news alerts, but it’s mostly international stories. There’s one that catches my eye—Alejandro Sánchez has a press conference scheduled for today. I set a reminder on my phone so I can watch later. Through the whirlwind of everything that happened at the summit, and the last month getting ready to move, my focus has been on everything except meeting him. I haven’t told Aubrey that the Mayor of San Francisco is my father, but I have a feeling she’s already figured it out based on what I’ve shared with her. Alejandro will probably want nothingto do with me, which is why I’ve put off meeting him for so long—fear of rejection.
Aubrey’s alarm on her phone chimes, and she grumbles, “Can we call in sick?”
“I’m sure you can, but won’t it be a little suspicious if I do? It’s only my second day.”
“Fine, I guess I’ll also go to work.” She shifts to look at me. “What’s on your calendar today?”
“I’m meeting with the social media team this morning, then you and I are supposed to meet before lunch. I may need to reschedule though, since there’s a press conference I want to watch.”
“Really? For what?”
“The, uh… Mayor Sánchez has called a press conference.”
Her brows pinch. “For what, though? He’s not up for reelection for another two years, and I haven’t heard anything coming from his office recently.” I’m about to admit I have no fucking clue what it’s about because I didn’t bother to even check, when she quietly asks, “Do you want to watch it together?”
“You have a busy day, you don’t need to sit through a random press conference with me.”
“It isn’t random though, is it?”
“No,” I sigh.
“Then come by my office before it starts, and we’ll watch together. But depending on how long it is, we may have to order out for lunch.”
“There’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”
