“I’ll be waiting,” Helen sang as the doors rolled closed.

…

Story stood in line at the crowded bakery, Daniel directly behind her, mentally berating herself for acting childish. She didn’t have any claim on Daniel, nor did she have the right to dictate whom he chose to date. The night he’d asked her to stay through the summer in New York, she’d told him she didn’t want him to change. And she’d meant it. Right? The alternative would be him seeing only her and she couldn’t possibly be ready for that kind of commitment so soon. It still didn’t make the idea of him with the cute nurse or Hayden any more tolerable.

On the uncomfortably silent walk to the bakery, she’d come to a startling realization. She was scared. Scared to even consider the option of staying in New York to see where things went with Daniel. Scared of her reaction to the very thought of him with someone else.

Fisher’s revelation that he’d met someone else hadn’t cut her as deeply, and she’d spent three years with the man. Her ex-fiancé hadn’t managed to shatter her heart, but his dishonesty had blasted her full of insecurities. Insecurities that would make it difficult to be with a man like Daniel. If she let herself slide down that slippery slope into a relationship, one that went beyond the physical, she would open herself up for a world of pain.

More customers piled into the already-jam-packed bakery, forcing her and Daniel closer together. Every inch of her body tingled with awareness as his chest made contact with her back. Obviously, her body vehemently disagreed with her brain’s decision to slow things down. She wanted him so badly, it felt like a constant ache that refused to dull. Her body didn’t care that he’d been with too many women to count, that they’d all benefited from his skillful touch. How he made her feel was all that mattered.

The only problem? She was starting to have a hard time separating the physical from the emotional. Somewhere along the line, he’d gotten to her. Bad. And right now, having him this close, she craved him like oxygen.

Involuntarily, her head tipped to the side to expose her neck to him, and a moment later she felt his breath there, warming her skin. Her eyelids fluttered. Goose bumps broke out along her bare arms. One of Daniel’s arms curled around her waist hesitantly, pulling her back against him when she didn’t protest. When his warmth cradled her completely, she sank back against him with a sigh. Daniel’s head dropped down onto her shoulder as if in relief.

“Sunshine,” he murmured near her neck. “I can’t see past you to anyone else. Please believe me.”

“It’s not a matter of me believing you. I’m just not ready,” she whispered shakily. “I like being with you. I want to spend time with you while I’m here. Can’t that be enough?” Daniel’s answer was cut off when they reached the front of the line. “Give us the healthiest thing you have, please,” she instructed the baker, making Daniel raise a questioning eyebrow. Story pursed her lips. “Oh, he’s not getting away with this.”

Daniel thankfully didn’t bring up their earlier conversation as they left the bakery. Wanting to ease the tension, she started to ask him about work but her phone rang, interrupting her. Her mother. She ignored the call and groaned upon seeing that her mother had called three times since this morning.

“I’m curious about your mother.” Daniel’s mouth quirked up at the side. “I can’t imagine Jack getting married. She must be one hell of a lady.”

Story smiled, relieved at the casual topic. “She is. I don’t remember much about them being married, though. I was so young.” She sent him a mischievous look. “Although I do remember the day my mother and I refer to as The Reckoning, if you’re looking for blackmail material.”

“Always.”

“I had a feeling.” Her laughter cut off when Daniel took her hand, then steered her off the street into a park. She looked at him questioningly.

Daniel shot a quick look at their joined hands and shrugged. “This is nice. Just a little longer, okay?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Story nodded. “It was a Monday. My mom always made French toast on Mondays, which is how I remember. Jack had forgotten their five-year wedding anniversary.” Her heart skipped when Daniel linked their fingers and squeezed. “My dad came home to find my mother outside, passing out his very rare, very expensive Cuban cigars to the entire neighborhood. The pool boy, mailman, and dog walker included…some of them had already started smoking them, including my mother. It was like a giant community smoke-out.”

His head fell back as he laughed. “I’d have given anything to see his face. He treats those cigars like they hold the meaning of life. You know he’s never once let me have one?”

“Really?” She pulled him to a stop underneath a shady tree. “Well, he’s not home right now and I know where he keeps them.”

“Story…” He’d become distracted by the string of her bathing suit once more, worrying the red material between his fingers. “This is a red bikini, isn’t it? It’s the only thing you’re wearing underneath those clothes.”

“Uh-huh.” She ran her hands up the front of his shirt. “I’m not meeting Hayden for another hour. Let’s go home. I’ll let you take it off me.”

Looking utterly conflicted, he raked his bottom lip through his teeth. “Baby, please don’t do this to me.”

“We want each other, Daniel.” Her mouth hovered over his, lips brushing gently. “Why are you being stubborn?”

“You know why.” He gave in to the moment, growling as he took her mouth in a quick, searing kiss. “Being with you in that way is… Sunshine, it’s incredible. But it’s not everything. I need more with you.”

She ran her fingers through his hair and urged him down to meet her for another hot kiss. Lips, tongues, and teeth mated frantically, licking and tugging until Daniel broke away with a groan. “Ah, God. Look at you.” His eyes pinched shut. “I have to go.”

“Why? This is crazy.”

As he backed away, the look on his face said I can’t believe I’m doing this. Story was pretty sure her own expression mimicked his. For the second time, she watched him walk away from her, looking seriously turned on and sexy as hell. Maybe even more so for denying her. She didn’t want to admit it, but his plan was starting to have the desired effect. Every time they were together, she wanted to give in just a bit more. She saw a little more of him each time, the part that no one else could see but her.

He was proving to her that he was capable of being more than a woman’s plaything. And in turn, Story realized, he was proving it to himself.

Chapter Sixteen

Story stood inside the vast wonderland of color and texture, also known as Hayden’s closet, unable to properly appreciate the plethora of designer labels. Absently, she fingered the material of a gold-sequined ball gown, wondering why someone would spend that much money to be uncomfortable. She curled up on a white leather bench placed strategically along the closet’s wall, effectively ending her halfhearted hunt for a dress to borrow.

Hayden poked her head in from the bedroom, wearing underwear and half a face of makeup. “Hey now, you better get busy. We’ve only got a couple hours before the party and you’re still in yoga pants. Unless you’re trying to start a new trend, I’d go with something a smidge fancier.”

Story wrinkled her nose and stood once more. “Don’t you own a single article of clothing made out of cotton? It’s ‘the fabric of our lives,’ you know.”

“Oh, now. You’re just cranky because Daniel hasn’t come groveling at your feet like you thought he would. How long has it been now?”

“Five days,” she replied, throwing a silk scarf at Hayden for bringing up the sore subject. “Five long, nookie-free days and nights, my friend.”

“Oh, the humanity!”

Story fought a smile. “Hey, now, if I recall correctly, I left you outside Quincy’s last week with two seriously sexy, seriously single cops.”

“Correction. One seriously sexy, seriously single cop—nice alliteration, by the way—and one mus

cle-bound, potty-mouthed dickhead named Brent.”

“Noted. I shall endeavor to do better next time.” Hayden sniffed and plucked a dress off the rack, leaving Story once again to thoughts of Daniel. She’d filled her time by exploring the immense borough of Manhattan and going to visit Jack, letting him teach her the “art” of chess and catching him up on parts of her life he’d missed over the last decade.

But despite the valuable inroads she’d made with her father, nothing could stop Daniel from occupying her thoughts. So when Hayden had called her this afternoon to invite her to a cocktail party being thrown by her parents, she’d jumped at the promise of being distracted. To engage in mindless conversation and think about something, anything, besides him.

Dammit, she really thought he’d have caved by now. But she hadn’t heard a peep from him since the day in the park when he’d left her panting after him on the sidewalk. Apparently, he was determined to stick to his plan to give her some space to think. If the last five days had taught her anything, it was that she hated space. Space and Story were incommunicado.

“So, have you actually taken the time to think about his request or have you just been moping around like a puppy with one of those giant cones on its head?”

“Moping with a giant cone, mostly. Some thinking.”

“And?”

“And, it’s crazy! I dated Fisher for three years and now? I feel like I barely knew him. I’ve known Daniel all of a week.” She blew out a breath. “Maybe an extra month isn’t that huge a deal in the grand scheme of things, but it feels…big. Soon and big.”