“Do you want to put that on your list?” Please put it on your list, my dick chimes in.

“You giving me orgasms because I’m Edward Scissorhands and I can’t do it myself?”

“Sure.” Any excuse for Chloe to let me touch her would suffice. “Orgasms? Now you’re getting ahead of yourself,” I tease.

Chloe snort laughs into my dress shirt and when she pulls away it’s covered in tears and probably snot. I don’t even care. Having this moment of levity with her, even if it’s because she got the world’s most bizarre manicure, is nice. She lifts her hands to wipe the tears from under her eyes but she can’t get them without poking herself in the eye.

“I can’t even…” Chloe’s words trail off when I press my thumbs under her eyes and wipe the wetness away. She blinks, her wet lashes tickling my thumbs.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You bet,” I say, my hands still cupping her cheeks.

She takes in a shuddering breath and lifts her gaze to mine. We stand there for what feels like forever, neither of us wanting to move from the moment. We’re so close, it feels like there’s nothing left to do but lower my head one more inch and claim her mouth.

I gently press my lips to hers, wanting it to be a reassuring kiss, but it turns deep and hungry in an instant.

My hands move down Chloe’s sides, grazing her breasts, sliding over her hips before making their way to grip her ass. Her soft moan nearly undoes me. I’m envisioning Chloe on my desk with her legs spread wide when Bea’s voice fills the room.

“Fred Hinkle is on the line.” For the first time since this whole thing started, Fred is the last person I want to talk to right now.

I reluctantly release Chloe. “I’ve got to take his call.”

“Yeah.” She nods with a dazed look on her face.

“You going to make it home okay?” Neither of us address the fact that I’ve called my brownstone home. It is Chloe’s home currently, but this is the first time I’ve referred to it as that. The satisfaction of knowing she’ll be there when I get home is startling.

“I’ll be fine.” She gives me a small smile.

“I’ll have Marcus pick you up.”

“Okay.” She nods. I place a kiss on her forehead, then quietly close the door behind her before picking up Fred’s call.

“Fred,” I answer, my thoughts still on Chloe.

“Barrett,” Fred’s voice booms into my ear, “how was the weekend?”

“It was great. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t make it, Frankie was upset about her appearance, you know how women can be.”

“Yes,” having just witnessed Chloe’s meltdown about her nails, “I understand.”