***
I'm unsteady on my feet as Blake and I leave the venue a few minutes later.
"Can we walk a few blocks and then grab a cab?" I ask Blake, needing some fresh air.
"Sure."
"How can I be so light-headed?" I ask, holding on to him for dear life. I'm really unsteady on my feet. "I just had two glasses."
"Three. You drank mine too," Blake exclaims.
Oh crap. Well, that explains why my glass wasn't getting empty even though I kept drinking.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, my drunk girl."
"Tipsy," I correct.
"Got it."
"But I'll pretend I'm drunk if it means you'll take care of me."
We come to a halt between two Jacaranda trees, and he pulls me flush against him.
"I thought you didn't want me to take care of you." He nuzzles his nose against mine in an Eskimo kiss. Ah, damn it, Blake! He has to turn down the charm, right now, or I might say some things I shouldn't.
I put a finger to my lips. "Shhh, it's a secret, but I actually love it that you're so protective and attentive."
On a whim, I kiss his cheek lightly.
"What's that for?"
"Bringing me to the show with your family. I didn't know how ‘no labels' works exactly. If it meant just fun under the covers, or...."
Damn champagne. It loosens my tongue, and I really need no help in that department. I speak too much as it is, and one is not supposed to say these things out loud.
Blake wraps an arm around my waist, cupping my cheek with the other hand, and holds my gaze captive in his.
"I want to make one thing clear. There's going to be rough fucking and sweet lovemaking and everything in between. But it will always be more than fun under the covers. Okay?"
I shudder involuntarily as I nod. "Okay."
"When I said I want you in my life, not just my bed, I meant it. And here's a label for you-mine. You're mine."
"You're being sweet again. Just thought I'd point that out." I inform him. Lucky he's holding me tight, because I'm swooning a little. A lot, actually. "I know you had plans for us tonight, sorry. I don't think I'm up to anything."
"Let's get you home, drunk girl."
"Tipsy. Just tipsy."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Blake
Daniel and I used to stick around for the show after party, give press interviews, but not anymore. It doesn't help Bennett Enterprises, but it does attract people like Vivian.
"We're going too fast," Clara mumbles. She's adorable when she's had too much to drink. By the time the cab pulls in front of our building, she's steadier on her feet, but something in the way she moves gives her away. Doesn't matter. She's safe with me. I'm here to look after her, every step of the way.
"Would you like to come in?" she asks once we're in front of her door, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated way.
"Are you trying to flirt?"
She pouts. "If you have to ask, I'm failing miserably."
"I was going to come in anyway, make you sure you get into your bed safely."
She nods eagerly, turning around and unlocking the door with surprising ease. Once inside, I take her in my arms and kiss her like I've been meaning to ever since we left. Christ, I can't get enough of this woman. She got under my skin, and I want her to stay there. In fact, I'm determined to get under her skin and stay there. The recognition startles me because this is another first for me. I'm out of my depth when it comes to this, but I'm determined to make this woman the happiest she's ever been. I can't go wrong with that.
"What are you thinking?" she asks when I kiss down her neck. "I can feel you thinking."
"I'm thinking that I can't get enough of you. This was just an apartment before, but now it's home. You made it home. You're real, open, honest." I kiss back up the side of her neck, then her cheek.
"Especially when I'm drunk."
"I thought it was just tipsy."
We both laugh.
"Right, tipsy. I'm much better now, though." She steps back and twirls around as if to make her point. Okay, I'll give her that, she's steady on her feet. "This dress is so pretty. It's the kind of pretty that makes me feel pretty."
Her words slice through me. "You are beautiful, Clara. Never doubt that."
"Not like you, though. Not in your league."
"What?"
"You're Blakealicious."
"That's not a word."
"It should be. Blake and delicious combined. You're so hot, you're down right lickable," she explains seriously, "and I'm-"