The Brighton Effect (The Truth About Love Book 2) by C.M. Albert

Author:C.M. Albert [Albert, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FlowerWork Press
Published: 2021-05-05T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Olivia

I STRETCHED AWAKE, finding Brighton asleep beside me on his back, his arm thrown over his head. Even in slumber he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever met. Like a Roman god with his chiseled jaw and perfect nose. He had long, dark blond lashes that tickled when he gave me butterfly kisses. His lips were full, made for my kisses. I longed to reach out and run my hand along yesterday’s stubble, but I didn’t want to wake him. We’d been up late celebrating.

I stretched my right hand out and looked again at the lilac-colored diamond. It took my breath away.

“Did I do okay?” Brighton asked, his voice rough from just waking up.

I leaned over, laying on his bare chest as I looked up at him. “More than okay. Last night was so special. I can’t imagine the planning that took.”

“I had a lot of help.”

“But it was your heart that created that moment to make it special for us. So, thank you.” I reached up to kiss him. “Are you sure Ryan was really okay with all of this?”

“A thousand percent, Liv. Don’t worry. Come on. He’s making breakfast for us. Let’s get dressed and go face the music.”

I put on last night’s clothes before we headed downstairs. We grabbed two mugs of coffee and made our way to the front door, stepping on a trail of beautiful rose petals along the way. I was laughing at something Brighton said when we heard someone on the sidewalk call out to us. I stopped dead in my tracks. I took a deep breath and turned, facing my husband’s work colleague.

“Good morning, Kimber! What are you doing over this way so early?”

She was bundled up in a long wool coat sinched at the waist, a cowl scarf in the same hues of gray and soft pink wrapped around her neck. Her husband was beside her. He tipped his hat in our direction but said nothing.

“What are you doing out so early?” she asked, eyeing our coffees. We were clearly not dressed appropriately for being outside in the dead of winter. And I was sure I had sex written all over my hair, my skin, my face. I probably smelled like a brothel.

I swallowed, having no clue how to answer this woman.

Brighton held up his coffee mug. “She’s just mooching off a generous neighbor to get her morning coffee fix. Their coffee pot is on the fritz. Thought maybe Ryan might like one, too, in exchange for some homemade pancakes. I don’t get those too often anymore.”

Kimber was not buying what Brighton was selling, but it was smoother than anything I could’ve come up with on so little sleep.

“How—cozy. And did I just hear you right? Did you say neighbor?” she asked slyly.

“You heard right,” Brighton said cheerfully. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but Ryan’s coffee is getting cold, and I’m sure Olivia is freezing to death. It was good to bump into you again, Mrs.

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