Sloane
Adrian’s hand was on the small of my back when Marcus’s name lit up my phone.
“Tell him the contracts look good,” Adrian said, voice low against my ear. His palm stayed where it was, warm through the thin silk of my blouse, thumb brushing just above the waistband of my skirt. “And tell him I’m staying for dinner.”
I answered on the second ring. Marcus sounded tired, airport noise in the background. “Adrian there yet? He said he’d swing by and go over the final pages.”
“He’s here.” I kept my voice even. Adrian’s hand slid lower, settling on the curve of my ass, fingers pressing just enough to make my breath catch. “We’re looking at them now.”
“Good. Don’t let him leave until everything’s signed. I trust him.” Marcus laughed, soft and oblivious. “Love you. Be home Thursday.”
“Lo
