The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(21)
Author: Alice Clayton

It had been unreal. There were truly no words.

When we’d finally broken apart, panting heavily, we just stared at each other with unmistakable lust. My lips had been swol en from his more passionate kisses, and the subtle scratches from his stubble. I had still been sitting on his lap, my legs wrapped around him. He had laid his head on my chest, nudging my head back so he could snuggle into the nook between my shoulder and breast. His strong arms had encircled me, making sure there was no space between our skin.

I’d trailed my hands through his hair again, more gently, using my fingernails to massage his scalp. This was something I’d quickly discovered that he loved.

He had sighed contentedly and asked, “How is it possible that I have only known you a few days?”

“I know. I know,” I soothed, pulling him even closer to me. The franticness of earlier had segued into a smooth and easy pace of touching and feeling and comforting and closeness. It was sweet.

“How’s your back?” he asked, not pulling away. If anything, he had cuddled closer to me. I felt his warm breath on my chest.

“It’s better. Thanks for the distraction,” I had replied, kissing his forehead, his temples, his nose, his eyelids, his eyebrows. He had sighed again, making a light humming sound in the back of his throat that I’d filed it away as “Jack’s Happy Sound.”

A horn honking brought me back down to earth, snapping me out of my memory. I brushed my fingertips over my still-swollen lips and grinned. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the rear view mirror, and my heart flipped as I remembered what I was wearing. My shirt had still been wet with coffee, so when I left I was wearing one of his shirts, a long-sleeved white thermal.

It would have fit him snugly, but I was swimming in it. He took the time to roll up my sleeves for me, while I stood in front of him at his front door. I noticed, and not for the first time, how much taller than me he was. He was easily over six feet, and he gazed down at me adoringly. He handed me my ruined shirt in a baggie and smiled at me. I wondered if things would change now. We had made out all morning, hardly joking at all.

Would we be friends now? Would we be mushy now? Would we be anything now?

He leaned to kiss me goodbye and whispered in my ear, “In case I didn’t tell you, you have gorgeous tits.”

I grinned inwardly, then placed my mouth right next to his ear. “I know, wait until you see the rest of me.”

We both cracked huge smiles and I trotted away toward my car. When I got there, I looked back and saw him still standing there, watching me.

“See ya, Hamilton!”

“Later, Sheridan.”

Yeah, things will be just fine.

Jack and I had agreed that for the rest of the day, I was working. He was in between jobs right now, although he was doing more and more press for the film. Holly also had him taking meetings all over town, making sure that the doors were open when this movie premiered. All the industry trackers were predicting a commercial success, possibly even forty million plus on opening weekend. If all went well, Jack would have significant bargaining power when choosing his next few jobs. Holly was determined that they would use his new power position to secure his career, rather than capitalize on just the next eighteen months while he was the new “it boy.” Because he wasn’t technically working right now, he was enjoying his last few months of relaxation in relative anonymity, although even that was no longer guaranteed. I thought about the pictures from yesterday, and I thought how a picture of me leaving his apartment in what was obviously his shirt could affect him.

It would have looked like we were indulging in a little afternoon delight, to which I was no longer opposed.

I was behind on my work with my scene partner, not to mention almost overdue on a project that I was working on for a client. I told Jack, emphatically, that he was not allowed to call me, email me, or send me texts until I reached out to him. He was so charming that he would pull my focus from whatever task I was trying to complete—not that I was complaining. The time we spent together this morning was crazy-town good. I needed to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground, however. It would be so easy to get carried away with all things Hamilton. Besides, I had another motive for spending the afternoon alone.

I wanted to Google him.

Ever since he’d mentioned it at the beach, I’d been considering it. I mean, really, it wasn’t too stalkerish, was it? If I was dating any other guy and I knew there was oodles of information available, just waiting for me, wouldn’t I take advantage of it? Was this creepy?

Hells bells, Loretta, just Google him for f**k’s sake.

I made myself work for a few hours when I got home, after I took a peek at my back. It was still red, but not too bad. I might milk it a little next time I saw him, score some sympathy points. Maybe even a back rub. Yeah, a back rub. His hands would trail lightly down my back, further still to my panties, and then …

Focus up, Grace.

I did work for a few hours, and then I switched over to the open mike night I had planned for the following week. I strummed my guitar, practicing the songs I had chosen. I had recently begun to write some of my own songs, but I wasn’t quite confident enough about them yet to sing them in public.

I was still singing when I noticed it was almost dinnertime and Holly would be home soon. I would have to Google later. I raced through the shower and was just getting dressed when she called to let me know she was about five minutes away. She was bringing Thai home for dinner.

I was slipping into a white linen shift when she poked her head into my room.

“Hey, ass. Dinner’s downstairs and you’ve got a package waiting for you on the front porch.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s right outside. Go get your package.” She smiled as I walked past her, raising an eyebrow. She just shrugged and pointed me toward the front door.

I walked out and saw a white envelope on the front step. I opened it, and found a Starbucks gift card. The note attached said: Sheridan,

You didn’t say anything about handwritten delivery when you cut off all forms of communication.

Turn around.

“Oh man, Hamilton, are you here?” I called out as I turned around. He caught me up into a close hug, pulling back to kiss my forehead.

“I brought you this, since you didn’t really get your money’s worth this morning.”

“You’re sil y, and I told you no communication. Obviously this would include face to face,” I pouted, relaxing a little into his grasp.