Brooklyn

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"Jesus, Harrison. Will you quit leaving socks on the kitchen floor," I mutter to myself, shaking my head as I scoop them up. Harrison Reid is easily the sexiest man alive, but he's not the neatest. If I have to pick up one more dirty pair of socks from the floor, I'm going to scream.

"Morning," he says from behind me, and I spin to face him with his dirty socks in my fist. His smirk is wide and gorgeous and before I can give away just how much he affects me, I stick out my tongue and shove the socks against his chest.

"You're gross," I tell him, working hard to keep a straight face. The sparkle in his eyes tells me he's in a playful mood and I don't have it in me to stay upset.

"You're crabby," he chuckles, grabbing the socks and tossing them down the laundry shoot in the hallway before returning to the kitchen.

He's right. I'm letting stupid little things get to me. I think it's easier to focus on what I can fix because there are so many things I can't.

"Ugh," I say on an exhale. "You're right. I'm sorry. Can I make you coffee?"

"No, Brook," he says softly with an understanding smile. "I'll make you coffee. I think you need it more than I do,"

"It's my job," I say quickly, again because I like to feel in control. But as soon I touch the cabinet knob, his hand covers mine. A shiver runs through me. I've told myself countless times not to overanalyze our situation, but it's hard not to think how good feels to be so close to him. My hair is twisted up in a messy bun; it would be so easy for him to press his lips against my skin.

"Sit down, Brooklyn," he says barely above a whisper, but he's so close his breath touches my ear. "Let me do this,"

I let out a breath and drop my hand from the cabinet. His follows, falling to the counter in front of us. I turn to face him.

"I need to talk to you," he says seriously. "It's pretty important,"

My heart pounds. The sparkle has dulled from his eyes; something is wrong. I take a seat at the table as he begins to make a pot of coffee.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask softly. Is he firing me? "I know I was running a few minutes late to pickup Sophie the other day, and I really am sorry. It won't happen again,"

"It's not that," he interrupts, walking over with two mugs of coffee. He sets one down in front of me, then pulls up a chair beside me and sits down. "I need to go overseas for business,"

"Okay," I say as I bring the mug up to my lips and take a drink.

"Tomorrow," he says and I nearly choke on my coffee.

"But that's so soon," I frown. I'm not sure if I'm more upset that Harrison will be gone or at the idea that I'll be on my own with his daughter for so long.

"I know," he swallows. "Do you have a passport?"

"What?"

"A passport. You'll need one to come to Paris," he says.

"Yes, but that's not a good idea, Harrison," I shake my head. As if I don't already feel like he's doing me too big of a favor by letting me live with him.

"C'mon. You, me, Soph. It'll be great," he smiles. "Have you ever been?"

"No, but..."

"No buts," he says with a smirk so big I can't help but mirror it. "Come with me. You and Soph can hang out, shop, eat, see the sights, and we can hit the town at night when I get back to the hotel. It's gorgeous at night. I can't wait to show you,"

He's so genuine. He's so, so perfect. 

"Ugh, Harry," I drop my head onto my arm lying on the table. I'm overwhelmed by his generosity and what this is all turning into.

"Yes. How dare I take you on a vacation!" He says, teasingly. I turn my head to face him, my head still on my outstretched arm, and open my eyes. "I'm so mean," he says softly, but his eyes widen as he continues to tease me.

"Okay," I smile. "But only for Sophie, because she'll need me,"

"Fair enough," he smiles. "You'll just have to put up with me then,"

"I suppose so," I tease, raising my head up as he reaches inside his suit jacket and pulls out three plane tickets. "Flight leaves at 5 a.m.," he says. "We'll need to pack for Sophie, too,"

"Got it," I say, draining the rest of my coffee as he stands up and set his empty mug in the sink. He grabs the ends of his tie and heads and walks into the bathroom just off the kitchen, leaving the door open.

"I got you a new phone. It's on the counter," he calls from the bathroom. I frown and immediately walk into the bathroom behind him. I stare at him in the mirror until our eyes meet. His hand are still on his tie, working a perfect knot.

"You did what?"

"So that asshole Nick can't bother you anymore. You can cancel your other line. Cut all possibility of him finding you,"

"If he wants to find me, he'll find me. It's only a matter of time,"

His hands fall from his tie and he spins to face me. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are big and full of worry. My heart swirls with big feelings that I've always tried so hard to stomp away; I don't want to anymore.

"Brooklyn," he starts, his eyes searching mine. 

"You can fly me to Paris and say it's because you want to take me on vacation, but I know what you're doing," I swallow and keep my eyes on his. "You think I'm gonna run,"

"No," he says quietly, reaching up to cup my cheeks gently in his hands.  "I actually don't. You told me you wouldn't and I believe you. I actually really, really just want you to come to Paris with me. Pretend or not, I actually really like being with you," he tells me seriously. "You're funny and fun and amazing with Sophie. There's no one I'd rather be with than you two,"

Wow. Okay. My mouth opens but I can't find any words, so I reach up to fiddle with the knot in his tie instead. 

"Is that okay?" he asks nudging my chin up with his index finger to meet his eyes.

"Yeah," I manage with a small smile. He's chipping away at my defenses; I don't need them with him anyway. This man is sweet and good and I need someone like him in my life.

For a moment I think he's going to lean in and kiss me. For a moment, I tell myself I'd let him...that I want him to more than I'd ever say aloud. 

But then the moment shifts, passes. 

"Good. I promise you'll have fun," he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead before stepping away. "Do you mind picking up some snacks for the long flight? High altitudes make me hungry," he says, bouncing his eyebrows as he walks away. 


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