And that uncertainty hangs heavy like a cloak around me as I get ready for the day and head to Spark House.

  Not long after I arrive, a frazzled Selene sashays through the lobby, suitcase in hand. She spots me and shifts course. That sensation my sisters claim is jealousy takes over and I force a smile. “Good morning, Selene.”

  “I wish it was.” Her smile looks far from genuine. “I have to apologize, London, but I have an emergency situation that requires my presence back in New York.”

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I hope it’s not serious.”

  She waves the comment away. “Nothing that I can’t handle, but unfortunately, I’m unable to deal with it remotely. I have faith you’ll pull off a wonderful event. Mitchell has my notes. I’ll be in touch sometime next week.” She leans in and air-kisses both of my cheeks, and then she’s off with two women speed walking after her. That prickly feeling at the back of my neck leaves with her.

  The rest of the morning is filled with last-minute details, putting out small fires, and managing the reservations as guests begin to arrive. The majority of the charity attendees are local, with only a handful coming from out of town.

  It’s the first time I get to see this version of Jackson—the self-made multimillionaire CEO. He’s very much the same man I’ve come to know: poised, articulate, and charismatic. I just wish I knew why he was being so remote with me.

  Dinner is to be served in less than half an hour, and I’m in the middle of making sure we have enough of the vegan and vegetarian menu options with the catering staff when Jackson pops his head in the kitchen. He’s dressed in a black tux and looks edible. “Hi, London, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Griffin and his wife just arrived, and she’s asking to meet you. When you have a minute, can I steal you?”

  Harley pops her head right behind him. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but there’s a man named Harmon who’s looking to speak with both of you.” She holds out two fingers, one pointing at me and the other at Jackson.

  “Can you handle the vegan and vegetarian menu options, and then I can meet Cosy and say hello to Harmon?” I glance from the caterers to Harley and Jackson.

  “Yup. For sure, I can do that.”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  Jackson holds the door open, and I fall into step beside him. “How are you holding up?”

  “Good. Great. You?” I run my hands over my hips in part to make sure they’re dry.

  “Also good. Everyone is very impressed. The guests are excited to meet you and your sisters.”

  “I’m used to fading into the background at these things, not being in the limelight. That’s usually Avery’s strong suit.”

  We run into Griffin and Cosy first. She’s a petite woman with dark hair and an impish grin. “This place is amazing. Have you ever had a live band here before?”

  “Do you mean instrumental? For a wedding?” I glance at her hand and am almost blinded by the rock decorating her finger.

  “No. More like a rock band.”

  “Why don’t you get London’s contact information, and you can email her about this instead of trying to plan your own event while we’re in the middle of one, sweetheart?” Griffin leans against the edge of the bar, swirling his ice cubes in his glass, wearing a knowing smirk.

  She gives him a look that would bury a lesser man. “It was one freaking question, Griffin.”

  “Thirty seconds after you introduced yourself, Cosy.” He turns his attention to me. “I’ll be contacting you by email next week because my wife is in love with this place and basically wants to move in. And don’t worry, I’ve already told her it’s not for sale.”

  “I have a soft spot for Colorado,” Cosy admits.

  “I completely understand. I can’t imagine living anywhere else,” I tell her.

  Harmon slips into the small circle and introduces me to his wife, Lucile.

  She takes my hand in hers and gives me a warm smile. “This place is truly magical. Jackson told me that you and your sisters run the hotel, and I must admit I didn’t expect you to be so young! What an amazing accomplishment.”

  “Well, Spark House has been in our family for three generations, so we’ve had a great foundation to work with.”

  “I think it’s very noble to follow family tradition. I have to tell you, London, the centerpieces are absolutely delightful. Are they made in-house?”

  I explain that I create the prototype and that we have a team who replicate them, often using recycled goods.

  “Do you ever make them for events outside of Spark House? Or sell them?”

  “Oh yes! Actually, I have an Etsy store, and often we’ll put a few up for sale after the event is over. There’s a link to my site on the website under my profile.”

  “Wonderful! I’ll be sure to have a look after the event.”

  Avery makes her way through the crowd and is pulled in for introductions. She excuses us, citing that we’re needed, but that we’ll be back to mingle a little later. I allow her to thread her arm through mine and guide us toward the closest exit. “Is everything okay?”

  “You’ve been gone for an hour, and it’s just me and Harley running the show.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “I know, which is why I came to get you. Once dinner is done we can socialize.” She sounds stressed.

  We get the dinner situation sorted and trade off shoveling whatever food we can into our mouths before we’re on duty again.

  Over the course of the evening, my sisters and I are introduced to one influential business associate after another. Even with all the research we’ve done, it’s a challenge to remember everyone’s name and what business they’re associated with.

  By the end of the evening, the auction has raised over one million dollars. It’s an incredible success, and we have no less then twenty-five new business cards and a lot of interest from guests who would like us to host their own events, from birthday parties to team-building programs. It’s overwhelming and amazing in equal measure.

  By midnight, the guests have disappeared to their rooms, and Avery and Harley are making sure the auction items are properly tagged and secured, while I head back to the office to shut down the computers and ensure everything is in order for tomorrow morning. I grab my purse and dig around for my phone, intending to send Jackson a message before I leave. I barely had a chance to speak with him tonight, and I’m hoping I’ll get an opportunity to at least debrief about the event, and maybe find out what in the world is going on with him. I’m about to pull up his contact, which has several missed messages attached to it, when the sound of footfalls momentarily distracts me. “I’ll just be another minute or two, and then I’m ready to go.”

  “Not without saying good night, I hope.”

  I fumble my phone and it clatters to my desk. “I was just about to message you.”

  Jackson stands in the middle of the office, his bowtie hanging loose around his neck, his tux jacket open, one hand tucked into his pocket. His gaze is hot as it moves over me. “Are your sisters still here?”

  “They are. Somewhere. Maybe in the kitchen.” Possibly eating leftover dessert, as they like to do.

  He crosses the room. “You were amazing tonight. I truly love watching you shine, London.”

  “Thank you for making this possible.” I’m aware that on the grand scale of things, this is a small, intimate event and that most of his charity events make twice as much, or more.

  “Based on the discussions I had with many of the guests tonight, I have a feeling Spark House is going to be very busy for the foreseeable future.”

  “You’ve opened so many doors for us.”

  “You opened all your own doors, I was just here to hold them for you.” He comes around my desk and stops when he’s right in front of me. “I’m sorry if I’ve been off since I arrived, but I needed to be able to remain professional until the event was over, and the only way I felt that was possible was to keep my distance.”

  “Is that why you basically ghosted me since New York?”

  He frowns. “My intention wasn’t to ghost you, London. After our time together in New York, I realized I needed to take a step back, and now that the event is over, I’m letting Mitchell and Trent take over where Spark House and Teamology are concerned. I don’t think my involvement will be necessary after the success of tonight.”

  “Oh. I see.” I’m finding it very difficult to swallow past the lump in my throat. I knew this would happen eventually, and I’m honestly surprised that he’s been so involved in the first place. I’d hoped that it had less to do with the actual charity event and more to do with me. “I’m sure your time is better allocated elsewhere, and I sincerely appreciate all you’ve done for me. I mean for Spark House.”

  “That isn’t what I wanted to tell you, London. That was just the preamble.”

  “Oh.”

  He gives me a small, gentle smile. The kind I’ve learned he adopts when he finds my reactions amusing for whatever reason. I’m not finding this particular conversation all that amusing right now. “Maybe I wasn’t as clear as I should have been in New York. I’m not stepping back because I don’t want to be involved, I’m doing it because I need to let someone less personally invested take over.”

  “So you ghosted me the past few weeks because you’re too invested.”

  “I can’t work with you anymore because I have feelings for you that are not related to business or in any way platonic. But now that this event is over, I’d like to officially ask you on a date.”

  “Officially?”

  “Well, according to Trent, we’ve already been dating for the past two months, give or take, and I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realize it.”

  “How do you mean?” I tip my head.

  “How much time have we spent together over the past two months?”

  “Well.” I rub my fingers together. “A lot, but it’s been business-related.”

  “The truth is, I don’t attend estate sales with my other business associates. And while I might have clients stay at the apartment in New York, I usually don’t fly them out for an overnight and clear it with their sisters first. You made me crêpes, London. Would you do that for any of your other business associates?”

  “No, but—”

  He gives me a wry grin. “Like it or not, we’ve been unofficially dating for months now. And I’d like to make it official.”

  “Official how?” My stomach is a whirl of excited butterflies.

  “Official in that I’ll take you on the date that we’ve both been trying to get each other to go on. I would like to treat you like the queen you are, and if all goes well, at the end of our date I’ll finally find out what your lips taste like.” We both take a step closer. “If you’re amenable to a date, that is.”

  “That depends.”

  He arches a brow. “Oh?”

  “Is this the date that’s going to include a hot air balloon ride?”

  “Hot air balloon ride?” he echoes.

  “When you approached me and my sisters at the restaurant the first time, you mentioned a hot air balloon ride.”

  “Ah. Yes. I did do that, didn’t I?” A slightly embarrassed grin curves the right side of his mouth. “I hadn’t factored that into my plan for tomorrow, but I’d be willing to see what I can do about that.”

  “Actually.” I pick imaginary lint from the lapel of his jacket. “I have a small fear of heights.” I hold my finger and thumb two inches apart. “So maybe we could hold off on the hot air balloon ride, for say, a half century or so.”

  “You do realize that I’m going to make it my mission to get you in a hot air balloon eventually, right?”

  “Not if you want future dates you won’t.” I give him a saccharine smile.

  He chuckles. “So as long as tomorrow’s date does not include any heights, apart from elevator rides, are you amenable?”

  “I am.” I nod. “And I’d also like to state that I’m confident the date will go well and that the kiss you’re hoping will happen is already highly anticipated.”

  “I’m very pleased to hear that.” His breath breaks across my cheek, and a moment later I feel the press of his lips, soft and warm, leaving a promise of more lingering on my skin. “What are your plans tomorrow?”

  “I usually arrive fairly early so I can oversee takedown and make sure I’m around to say goodbye to all the guests.”

  “What time would you be free?”

  “Around two in the afternoon or so. Then I’ll have some Etsy orders to take care of.” Last I checked, I had at least fifteen orders to fulfill.

  Jackson frowns. “How long will that take?”

  “A few hours maybe.”

  “Is it something I can help you with?”

  “I guess it depends on how crafty you are.” I smooth his lapels for a reason to touch him.

  “Hmm. Maybe I can just supervise, then.”

  “It won’t be very exciting,” I warn.

  “I don’t care if it’s exciting. I want to spend time with you. And after your Etsy orders are done, I want to take you out for dinner.” His gaze darts to my mouth and then back to my eyes. “I’m looking very forward to our first official date, but let’s not tell Serious London because I rather like Fun London, and I’d like her to be the one who shows up tomorrow night.”

  I roll my eyes and grin, but I’m honestly worried that Fun London is going to do a disappearing act because Jackson is so intent on calling this a date. “I’ll try to keep Serious London on lockdown.”

  “I would greatly appreciate that. I hear she’s not quite as adventurous as this Fun London I like so much.” His smile is full of mirth.

  I swallow hard and whisper, “What if I’m not a fun date?”

  “We’ve been on at least a dozen dates so far. The only thing that was missing was the label and me getting to kiss you at the end of each one.” He tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear, even though I didn’t feel one. I don’t mind. I appreciate the contact. “You’re a fabulous date, London. Every time we’ve done something together, it’s been more fun than the last.”

  I meet his amused gaze. “Can I be honest about something?”

  “Absolutely.” The humor in his expression fades, and he regards me with mild concern.

  “What you said in regard to finding out what my lips taste like.” I bite my lip, nervous that I’m going to mess this up.

  “What about that?” He nods solemnly and his eyes dart to my mouth.

  I run my hands over his suit jacket-clad shoulders. “I was wondering, since you’ve pointed out that all of these business meetings you’ve organized over the past couple of months have been more like dates, if maybe waiting until tomorrow night to find out what my mouth tastes like is a little pointless.”

  “Interesting. I’ve actually wondered that myself.” He cups my cheek in his palm.

  “I suppose if we’re both wondering the same thing, then maybe it would make sense to just throw caution to the wind and find out before the date.”

  “That seems like something Fun London would definitely do.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” I bite my lip.

  “And we both know how much I like Fun London.” He bows his head, lips an inch from mine.

  I tip my head up and push to my tiptoes. At the same time, I slip a hand around the back of Jackson’s neck and tug, just a little. His lips touch mine, a barely there caress. He comes back again, lingering this time. We tilt our heads, lips parting at the same time, tongues stroking out to meet each other.

  One of his hands stays on my cheek, but the other arm wraps around my waist, and he pulls me against him. I loop my arms around his neck and slide my fingers into his thick hair. He had it cut recently, the back shorter than usual.

  I feel like I’m freefalling into heaven. His mouth is magic, his lips soft like satin. His kiss is both tender and commanding, and I find myself wanting to get caught up in the wave of bliss and ride it all the way to his hotel room. And then ride him.

  I can’t remember a time in my life when a kiss had the ability to undo me entirely. And this kiss definitely possesses that quality. I want to get closer, put my hands all over him. It’s as though this one single kiss has lit a fire inside of me. One I didn’t even know existed.

  Jackson’s hand—the one cupping my cheek—slides into my hair, gripping the strands and anchoring there. His thumb rests against the edge of my jaw, and he applies the tiniest bit of pressure. As if he’s making a silent request for me to tip back farther and open wider for him, without breaking the intensity of the kiss.

  So I do.

  He groans into my mouth, the sound low and primal.

  His other hand eases down my side and rests on my hip. His fingertips dig into the fleshy part of my ass and he rocks into me. And for the very first time, I feel him.

  I’m relieved I’m not the only one so affected by this kiss.

  If we were sitting, or even lying down, and I wasn’t wearing a floor-length gown, I’m one hundred percent sure that I would be straddling his lap, grinding up on him shamelessly. I can count the number of times I’ve been that worked up on one hand.

  All I drank tonight was sparkling water. I needed a clear head, and my lack of sleep over the past few nights would have been exacerbated by even the smallest amount of alcohol.

  I grip the lapels of his tux and roll my hips, wishing that all these layers of clothing could magically disappear.

  “Whoa! Wow. Yup. Okay. Wasn’t expecting that.” Avery’s shocked voice shatters the spell, and I tear my mouth from Jackson’s. The hand in my hair loosens, but the one on my hip stays where it is, keeping our lower halves connected.

  He backs up just enough that my eyes don’t cross when I look up at his gorgeous, flushed face. “That was absolutely worth the wait,” he murmurs.

  “Oh hell yes! I so called this! Avery, you owe me a hundred bucks!” Harley shrieks.

  Jackson arches a brow, and I push on his chest. It’s either that or I pretend that my sisters aren’t in the room and we go back to making out. I’ll be honest, I consider that a viable option for a second or two.