That One Moment (Lost in London #2) Read online

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not quite going home yet.”

  His scowl is back as his jaw shifts back and forth in obvious annoyance. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I mean, I have an errand to run.”

  “An errand. At nearly,” he looks at his watch, “eleven o’clock at night. What on earth—”

  “It was my birthday yesterday and I still have to have my cake. There’s a bakery around the corner that closes in five minutes, and if you don’t shut up and leave, I’m not going to get my birthday cake and I bloody well love cake.” I think I stamp my foot, but I’m too busy thinking about cake to notice.

  “Cake. You want cake?”

  I nod earnestly.

  “Well then, let’s get some cake.”

  LET HER EAT CAKE

  Fucking cake, I think to myself as I follow Vi past the Hookah Lounge. She smiles at some of the eclectic-looking patrons and my gaze simmers down her bare shoulders, all the way to the curve of her back that leads to her pert arse.

  Fucking hell, she really is gorgeous.

  Aside from her lithe and feminine body, it’s her face that captures me. She’s got these round, rosy cheeks that make her look sweet and innocent, but then her eyes portray something entirely different. They’re slanted upward just slightly in a way that makes her look sexy as hell in a feline sort of way. Her long blonde hair contrasts with her dark brows and thick lashes. The combination of all her features is sexy as fuck.

  Why are you doing this, Hayden? You should have just let her go get her own bloody cake. The last thing you should be doing is distracting yourself.

  But fuck if I didn’t get an immense sense of satisfaction when her eyes glimpsed down to my package and her pupils dilated ever so slightly. She feels it. She feels whatever this strange, magnetic pull is between us. It’s moments like this that I would give anything to close my eyes and wish away the dark choices I’ve made in my life…and have it come true. Meeting a gorgeous, luminous girl who seems like she’s got her life together is not something that happens every day. If this were five years ago, before Marisa died, I’d turn on my cocky boyish charm, grab her by the waist, and tell her to fuck the dessert…That we could make our own.

  “Here we are,” she says softly, snapping me out of my reverie. “You want one?”

  I nod and notice her rubbing her slender arms as if she’s cold.

  “Any allergies?”

  I shake my head and she orders two cakes from the small to-go window of the brick building. There’s a glass door with BOLT FROM THE BLUE CAKES scrawled on it, and inside there appears to be a darkened seating area. I shrug out of my suit coat and drape it over her shoulders. She turns her head and our eyes connect again, like they have been all night. But this time, instead of feeling annoyance, I only feel attraction. Carnal chemical attraction. Damn if it doesn’t feel good too. The employee comes back to the window with two brown boxes. I quickly grab a tenner out of my pocket and hand it over.

  “I can buy my own cake,” she says, leaning her back against the brick wall. She watches me take my change back with a coquettish look that makes it hard for me not to smile.

  “You can’t buy your own birthday cake…That’s bad luck or something.”

  “Superstitious much?” she asks, grabbing one of the boxes from my hands.

  My brows lift, but instead of answering her question, I change the subject. “So why didn’t you get your birthday cake yesterday?”

  Her blue gaze casts down and a slight look of discomfort mars her pretty features.

  “Did I hit a button?” I ask, frowning.

  She swallows and shakes off my query. “It’s nothing. I just never really enjoy celebrating on my actual birthday. It’s like…a thing with me. There’s always so much expectation for the day to be perfect and for you to hear from all the right people. The anxiety and the pressure and the specialness of that one day a year annoys me. Life isn’t like that. It’s not perfect. It’s unexpected. Birthdays aren’t always a great day. Sometimes they are sad. And now I’m rambling.” She gestures over to a small metal patio table and chairs nearby and adds, “Enough of that! I hope you like surprises!”

  As we sit down, my curiosity about her is only piqued more. She’s definitely got some strange hang up about her birthday. I know asking more questions will only make things more personal, so I decide to shift my focus to the box in my hand. When I open it, I find a chocolate frosted cupcake with a white sprinkled dusting on top. Before I remove the wrapper, I peek over to watch Vi open hers.

  She’s got a soft smile on her face like she’s sharing some private memory with herself as she peels back the wax paper. She chews on her lip excitedly before opening her mouth and sinking her teeth into the white frosted cupcake. Her eyes close in ecstasy.

  “I win,” she groans, the streetlight casting a warm glow on her platinum blonde hair.

  “Win what?” I ask, attempting to conceal my look of amusement.

  “Life,” she beams, then licks the bit of frosting stuck to the arch of her lip.

  I huff and take a bite. “Okay, I might see what you mean now.” I have to physically restrain myself from closing my eyes and moaning.

  “Told you,” she says, extending her cupcake to me. “Let me try yours.”

  “No!” I exclaim defensively.

  Her blue eyes turn to saucers. “Are you joking? Why ever not?”

  “It’s mine. You’re winning life, I’m winning the afterlife. This cake is life-changing. I’ve died and gone to heaven…and they serve cake.” I turn back to my coveted dessert, but secretly smirk at her exasperated huff.

  “I can’t believe you!”

  I shoot her a dangerous glower. “I’m not a sharer…of many things.” I slide my eyes down to her bust in a possessive stare and then sink my teeth into another bite.

  Her amused face falls in response to my serious expression. Her eyes are locked on my mouth as I chew, and she draws her lush lower lip into her mouth and bites down on the pink flesh. My gaze drifts to her lip and then shoots back up to her stunning blue eyes.

  Christ, this is so wrong.

  “But it’s my birthday,” her voice is husky as she shifts to the edge of her seat and rolls her shoulders forward, extending her line of cleavage.

  That, coupled with her flirtatious smile, makes me feel things in all areas south of my neck. Suddenly, I am desperate to kiss her. “You said yesterday was your birthday.”

  She shrugs her small shoulders that are nestled inside my large jacket. “Close enough.”

  Just then, my eyes widen as I realise I’ve lost track of time. I glance down at my watch the second 11:11 ticks over to 11:12.

  “Fuck,” I growl.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head, my previous mood evaporating instantly. “Nothing. Here,” I hand her my cupcake and refuse the offer of hers.

  She looks hurt and confused, her eyes full of questions, but I don’t have time to worry about that. I lean over and alternate gripping the cuffs on my wrists and curse myself for losing track of time, tonight of all nights.

  “Are you about done?” I ask, my tone short and clipped.

  “Quite,” she snaps and slips out of my jacket, depositing it on the table in front of me. She chucks the barely eaten cupcakes into the nearby bin and begins walking back toward her flat.

  Fuck. Now what? I snatch my jacket up and hustle to catch up to her, tossing it back over her goose-pimpled shoulders. “Would you please keep this on? It’s brass monkeys out here.”

  “I don’t need it!” she snaps and turns to face me. “Look Hayden, thank you for walking me to get cake, but I can’t keep up with your mood swings. I’d just like to say goodnight.”

  I exhale and slice my hand through my hair. I’ve hurt her feelings. That wasn’t what I was going for. I just got caught up. “I just—” I start but stop because I don’t know how to say all of that without sharing every sordid detail.

  �
��You just what?” she stamps her foot. I idly make a mental note that that’s the second time she’s stamped her foot at me and it’s cute as fuck. But I shouldn’t be noticing how anything she does is cute.

  “I just have a lot going through my mind, Vi. You heard my speech tonight. It’s no bloody secret. 11:11 is kind of an important time on my radar and I missed it.”

  “What do you mean, missed it? What would you have done?”

  I shake my head knowing that there’s no way I’m going to unload all of that on her. I haven’t unloaded all of that on anyone. Not even Doc.

  “Fine, Hayden. I told you I have questions and am curious, but you’re obviously not able or interested in sharing yet…So, like I said, probably just best we say goodnight.”

  I nod my head and follow her lead as she turns to continue our journey back to her flat. As we walk, Doc’s “Countdown Challenge” keeps churning over and over in my mind. He’s fucking spot on. Telling my story to a ballroom full of blank faces was miles easier than telling even one shred of my truth to Vi.

  When we round the corner to her alley way entrance, she says, “Thanks for the ride…and for the cake.” She slides my jacket off and hands it to me, looking a little sad. “I wish you luck with all things.”

  As I grab my jacket, our fingers graze and the spark that I felt earlier is back. I swear her chest rises with a gasp as our eyes connect. Then she narrows her baby blues with a renewed sense of determination. Just like that, I’m no longer concerned about 11:11. I’m concerned about all things Vi.

  Desperate not to say goodbye to her, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Would you want to help me with something?”

  Her brow furrows. “Depends what it is.”

  I rustle my jacket in my hands and nervously look down at it as I reply, “Look, I know I’ve been a bit of a prat tonight, but I have this challenge that I’m supposed to complete. I’m thinking if it is you who helps me, maybe you will get why I’m being like this toward you.”

  She swallows nervously. “What kind of challenge?”

  Christ, she looks terrified of you, Hayden! “Well, you said you are curious about my story…So if that’s true, then hopefully it wouldn’t bother you too much. But basically, I have to tell you about the days leading up to my erm…attempt.”

  She nods seriously without uttering a word. God, I feel like a fucking fool. This is awkward and horrible. I hate Doc. He’s a fucking wanker. “It’s not pretty…and it’s not easy. It’s dark and it’s fucked. I was in a bad place.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “This is a bad idea. I’ll find somebody else…” I continue nervously, hardly recognising her reply.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Or I’ll tell my doctor to get stuffed. He’s a little unconventional, so—”

  “I said I’ll do it!” she exclaims, swatting me on the arm and snapping me out of my internal chastisement.

  “Could have just said so,” I mumble, grinning secretively at her. I rub my arm where she whacked me, feeling somewhat shocked by her strength. I look into her eyes and am surprised to see a look of confidence that wasn’t there before. “Okay then,” I reluctantly agree, noting the determined set of her jaw.

  “I would like to hear your story, Hayden Clarke,” she adds. Her breaths come deeply as if she knows what she’s agreed to and is invigorated by the challenge. The pain. The anguish of it all.

  My chest feels heavy at the intensity behind her blue eyes. The willingness and complete trust she’s got in me to share this with her is…a lot. “Then I have a very serious question to ask you.”

  “Go on,” she says, curiously arching one brow.

  “May I have your phone number?” Fuck if I’m not anxious just asking for her bloody digits. I’ve been out of the game too long.

  She shoots me a saucy smirk and it relieves me. I give her my phone and she punches her digits in. When I reach to take it back, she pulls it out of my grasp just before giving it over. Her brazen playfulness in this moment is a huge fucking turn on. It’s like someone who laughs instead of screams when they sky jump out of an airplane. And the fact that it’s coming from this willowy sexy blonde is just mind-boggling.

  I tuck the phone back into my pocket and step closer to her. My eyes lock on her chest as she backs up against the aged, brown brick building beside her door. I love that her self-possessed poise drops when I am nearer. I love witnessing the effect I have on her.

  Her back hits the wall and she looks taken aback. “What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes dancing around my face nervously. A spark of excitement glimmers in her baby blues.

  “Things between you and I are about to get very heavy, Vi,” I start, flicking my eyes back and forth between hers. “And before all of that happens…Before I drag you down the rabbit hole with me, I have something very serious I’d like to do.”

  “What?” she croaks, her voice husky and trembling.

  “Tonight I just want to be a man, who walks a gorgeous woman to her doorstep…and kisses her senseless.”

  She nods her permission slowly, her eyes sparking with shocked excitement. Without pause, I drop my jacket to the ground and slip my hands around her face. I stare down at her luscious, peach lips. Her hands grip my white dress shirt just above my hips, and I devilishly grin at the tickling sensation of her tiny hands on my sides.

  “I haven’t kissed a woman for a while. I want to be sure I do this properly,” I say, my voice gravellier than I intended it to be.

  She nods slowly and lifts her chin. I pause a mere centimetre away from her lips and change course to her cheek. I drop a feather-light kiss on that cheek, breathing in her blissful womanly scent. What is it that women have that makes them smell so incredibly divine? And Vi better than any other I’ve ever smelt? It’s like a combination of expensive shampoo and sweet sugary fruit. I quickly move over and kiss the other cheek, allowing my lips to trickle down to the curve of her jaw and then to her chin. I flick my tongue out on her chin and trail it slowly upward, grazing the tip of her lower lip. Her mouth drops with a throaty gasp, inviting me in. But I hold back. I am savouring every delicious second of this and I won’t be rushed. I press my lips to her forehead before placing another soft drop on her perfect button nose. Then I finally pull back to take in and appreciate her sexy awed expression.

  “Is that all—” she starts, but I crush my mouth to hers before she can finish her smartarse remark.

  Swallowing the sweet taste of her sugary lips sends shivers up the back of my neck. I plunge my tongue in, desperate for a more satisfying sample. Her tongue responds to my request, pulsing and kneading in a perfect rhythm of ecstasy.

  Fuck, she tastes as good as she smells. If that cupcake earlier is the afterlife, then Vi’s lips are eternity. Her grip tightens on the belt of my trousers and she pulls my hips flush against hers. If she didn’t know how much this kiss was affecting me, she sure does now. I press her up against the wall with my groin and she actually moans into my mouth.

  Blast it all.

  Her hands roam up my sides to my shoulders. Then they slide down to my triceps, to my forearms…to…

  I pull back, jerking my cuff-covered wrists from her grasp. She’s panting heavily against the wall. Her mouth looks raw and swollen. Her hair is mussed and wild, doing nothing to tamper my needful desire for her.

  In short, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my entire life.

  I bend over and pick my jacket up off the ground, covering the evidence of our encounter. “Thank you,” I say and turn on my heel, striding down the dark alley and cursing myself a thousand times over for every moment that lead up to that one.

  WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER

  “I’m not kidding, Bruce…You should have seen his face. He looked like I slapped him. I have no bloody clue what I did wrong, or what he was thinking in that moment. Maybe I’m a crap kisser?” I groan and cover my face with my thin afghan as I stretch my legs out to prop on the
top rail of my balcony.

  After a fitful night’s sleep and thinking of Hayden Clarke the entire time, it’s a new day at last. Bruce and I have been out for our morning stroll, stopped over to the dog shop for a new chew, and now we’re lounging on the balcony, soaking up some rare London sunlight. Anything I could think of to keep myself busy. Brick Lane Market is noisy and bustling with Saturday morning shoppers, street vendors, and traffic. It was a good distraction while it lasted.

  Bruce pauses on his new chew and licks his lips, looking at me curiously. “Do you think I’m a crap kisser, Bruce?” I drop down off my patio lounger and grab his wet muzzle to kiss him right on his nose.

  He takes this as an invitation to “Bruce Hug” me. Bruce Hugs consist of him walking into me until I’m forced to lie down. Then he flops his entire body on top of me. He’s heavy as hell and he’ll Bruce Hug me for ages if I let him. I think lying on top of me gives him a sense of security by enabling him to keep me right where he can see me.

  “All right, Bruce, off you go. I’ve got to get a move on. Leslie is expecting me.” He sneezes in protest.

  A bit later, I’m stepping out of my flat, freshly showered, and wearing a pair of denim skinny shorts, brown braided leather flats, and a jeweled print crop top. It’s a beautiful day outside and Leslie’s flat is only a ten minute walk, so I’m able to enjoy my stroll through our neighbourhood. My father wanted me to have a vehicle, but with a Tube stop just around the corner, I talked him out of it. It really doesn’t make sense when there’s only street parking here and my office is so close.

  I arrive at the large warehouse that houses Theo’s custom furniture on the lower level and his and Leslie’s flat up above. There are large windows looking into his workshop, and I press my face against the glass to get a good look. It’s filled with various elements of his process and some partially completed projects. Around the corner is a window that looks into a small showroom with an attached office. Leslie has said it’s an appointment only type of studio and I immediately see why. From everything I can see, his work is exquisite. He has somehow captured the beauty of a rustic country style with a fresh and modern design. I imagine his work is coveted and high-priced.