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#Babymaker (Baby Crazy 2)

Page 23

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Chase frowned then, taking my hand and leading me to the kitchen. I’d put out two place settings on the breakfast bar, complete with a sprig of flowers and a jar of sparkling water.

“Five or six hours?” he rumbled, sitting down. The handsome man’s brow creased. “That’s a lot of papers that have to be copied.”

“I know,” I said, moving over to stir the red sauce again. “It’s insane. I think some of this stuff is just made up too. They don’t have enough work for me, so they’re asking me to photograph all sorts of manuals and handbooks to keep me busy.”

Chase leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he thought for a minute.

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure if this is going to go over well, but it doesn’t seem like you’re been utilized in the best way. You’re talented and smart, and that accounting firm seems hell-bent on keeping you in a support staff position.”

“Yes,” I nodded sadly, keeping my eyes on the bright orange, tangy sauce before me. “Like I said, I think the boss’s nephew is going to join the firm in a couple months, and they want to give the junior slot to him. So that’s it for me,” was my wry reply. “I’m going nowhere, I suppose.”

Chase thought for a moment again, and I could almost see the parts whirring in his head. But then those blue eyes turned towards me, fierce yet loving at once.

“Do you want to come work for me?” he asked. “I have a business as well, and we need an accountant.”

The paddle clattered from my hand onto the tabletop.

“Really?” I gasped. “You’d do that?”

He grinned, flashing even white teeth.

“Now I can’t promise too much,” he said, holding two palms up. “I think it’d be more of a bookkeeper position than an actual accountant, but yes, we’ve been thinking about hiring someone junior to help Marisa, my business manager. So it’s definitely a possibility.”

I ran towards him then, uncaring if I got tomato sauce on that perfectly cut black suit.

“Thank you,” I breathed into his ear, covering that strong jaw with kisses. “I’d appreciate it so much. Thank you for thinking of me,” I said almost tearfully.

And the handsome doctor didn’t hesitate. He took my face between two big palms while looking deep into my eyes, his gaze serious.

“No, thank you, Connie,” he said. “You’ve made my life so sweet, what with your home cooking and the way you take care of me,” he rumbled. “You’re the perfect package, all rolled into one.”

So how can I resist? Words like that made my heart pound, and I’m falling in love with the man, if I haven’t already. But at the same time, it’s important to be cautious because Dr. Roman hasn’t made any promises. We’ve never had “the Talk” with a capital T where you discuss where you are as a couple and where you’re going. Heck, I’m not even sure if we’re a couple, things are that vague.

But it feels so good to be with him despite the uncertainty, and I can only think that we’re growing closer because now I work for him, in addition to staying at his apartment. It sounds too close for comfort but actually, the situation is okay because we don’t see each other when we’re at the office.

But one day at my new job, a co-worker asked the question I’d been dreading.

“So are you and Dr. Roman an item?” asked Corrie. She was a bubbly blonde only a few years older than me who was training for a specialty in anesthesiology. I guess as a nurse anesthetist you can make a lot of money and still work reasonable hours.

But how to respond? On the one hand, I wanted to scream the truth and shout it out to the world. Yes! Dr. Chase Roman and I are in love. We’re a couple, and it feels good! But on the other hand, I was definitely overthinking things. In fact, the L-word has never been mentioned aloud. It was just something that I had in my head, the musings of a woman head over heels in love with her man.

But whenever I spoke about Dr. Roman, I couldn’t help but glow.

“Why do you say that?” I asked mysteriously.

Corrie giggled.

“Because of what you’re doing right now!” she said. “Look at you. You’re blushing and there are sparkles in your eyes.”

“There are?” I gasped, whipping out a compact to look at myself. But there was truth to Corrie’s words because the girl in the mirror was me, and yet not me. She was lit by a light from within, with warm caramel eyes and a sense of happiness and peace that radiated outwards. When had I become a happy mother goddess? It was crazy.

But suddenly, Corrie spoke and her words made me freeze.


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