She laughed. “Of course. If an old lady is ever interesting enough to get you some money, go ahead.” She took the pen and scrawled her name at the bottom.

“Thank you.”

“Now run along and make sure you do justice to this wedding.”

“I will, Joss. It was nice to meet you.”

He grabbed his stuff and headed back into the mansion as that old artistic urge rose up inside him, dusty from disuse. It was still there. Buried by too many years of complacency, but something about this encounter had inspired him.

For now, he had a wedding to finish.

 

The rest of the evening flew by without an issue. By the time Taylor had said goodbye to Jose and Marcus, her entire body throbbed from weariness. Damn, she’d been on her feet with no break for eighteen hours. But satisfaction filled her.

This had been her biggest wedding of the season, and she’d pulled it off by herself. Knowing she’d done her part well for Sunshine Bridal soothed her conscience. She may not have wanted to be a wedding planner, but when she’d taken the job, she’d sworn she’d be the best she could. Sure, she wasn’t like Avery—a focused, ruthlessly organized leader who lived for the business. And she’d never be the nurturing, calm consultant that Bella was for her clients. Taylor brought her own sense of style, creativity, and fearlessness to a wedding that was unique, like Jose and Marcus’s.

For her, it was enough. Her mother and father would be proud.

She finished up with the staff and hobbled toward the exit, where Pierce was waiting for her. They shared a glance, then began laughing.

“Your head or your feet?” he asked.

“Feet. Are your fingers cramping again?”

“Yep. Why’d we decide to get into this gig? Money?”

Taylor snorted. “I wish. At least it was a good night.”

“Yeah, it was.” He paused, fiddling with his equipment. “You heading home to bed?”

Her body perked up at the question that reeked of hidden meaning. She studied him, noticing his forced casualness and the way he tugged on his ear when he got nervous. God, he was adorable. He wanted sex, but they were still careful about putting pressure on the other.

Two weeks had passed since their sex agreement. At first, they’d tried to be polite to one another and pace themselves. But as another week passed, it became easier to end the day by having incredible, mind-blowing sex together.

She’d stopped analyzing whether this situation was good or bad, or if they were spending too much time together. It worked, and that’s all that mattered. The moment either of them was unhappy, they’d change the dynamic.

Easy peasy.

The idea of collapsing in his arms and sharing his bed was too tempting to resist. “I can head to your place, if you promise to give me a foot massage,” she threw out.

His head came up. A slow smile curved his lips. “I think I can manage that. Maybe you can give me a hand job.” He realized what he’d said and turned red. “Ah, crap, I meant a hand massage!”

A laugh escaped her. She loved it when he got embarrassed—it always reminded her of the slightly awkward kid he’d been in high school. She reached out to brush the hair out of his eyes. “Either one is good for me. Let’s get out of here.”

They drove to his place. He pulled out their usual postwedding snack menu, and they munched on crackers, cheese, fruit, and leftover pesto pasta.

She pulled back the bowl and glared when he scooped up half the portion in one bite. “Why is it so hard for you to share?” she grumbled, trying not to shove in a big mouthful. God, she got so hungry after these late nights. Amazing that with all the food that was served, she never got to grab much. She was always too busy.

“I share,” he said with his mouth full. “You’re the greedy one.”

“Name one example when I was greedy,” she challenged, reluctantly giving back the bowl to prove her point.

He lifted his hand and ticked off each finger. “The time you hid your giant Hershey’s Kiss from your sisters so they couldn’t ask for a bite. And when you got that new hamper so you could hide your clothes and pretend they were dirty so Bella and Avery wouldn’t borrow them.”

“Sister examples don’t count! No one shares with their sisters.”

“Fine. How about when Ms. Finnegan picked you as the winner of the ninth-grade art show and asked if you wanted Deena in the picture for the school newspaper? You said no.”

Her fingers squeezed the Ritz cracker until it crumbled. “Are you kidding me? Deena hated me and said I’d never win, so why the hell would I share my moment of glory with her?”

“When you won two fish at the county fair, you wouldn’t give me one.”

She glared. “I didn’t want them to be lonely! Are you still mad about that? You’re the one who refuses to share his dessert. You don’t even let me have a bite!”

“Because I know you’ll end up eating the whole thing.”

His calm answers only made her more irritated. She could think of plenty of examples that proved she shared. She just couldn’t come up with them now because she was tired. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she retorted, shoving a grape in her mouth. “I’ll just state for the record that I’m extremely generous in the right circumstance.”

He gave her a smirk. “Oh yeah? When is that?”

His fingers caressed a grape, and strong white teeth carefully bit it in half. He chewed the flesh slowly, obviously enjoying it. Some of the juice trickled over his full bottom lip. Those green eyes were trained on her, and the sensuality of the act hit her full force. She stared at his very talented mouth, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to jump him from across the counter.

Her tummy tightened and dropped to her toes. He was still in his work clothes, but he’d ripped off his tie and had unbuttoned his shirt. Crisp white shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his sinewy wrists and muscled arms. His jaw was clean shaven. Halfway through the night, he’d tied back his hair, but his coal-black strands now hung loose, giving him the sexy look of a pirate.

“Sex,” she said.

He blinked. Paused his chewing. “Sex?”

She pursed her lips and nodded. Narrowing her gaze, she slowly stalked him, keeping her gaze locked with his. Already, her body was perked up and ready to play. She stopped in front of him and slowly trailed her fingers down the line of his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned. “Yes. I happen to think I’m a generous lover. Shall we test the theory?”