It said in white, #1 BOYFRIEND, and under that, DANIEL JAROD MAGNUSSON.
I watched as he adjusted it so it was centered perfectly, and I thought he was joking around until he titched it just a centimeter.
That was when I looked at his face to see he was genuinely concentrating on what he was doing like the perfect placement of that plaque was of the utmost importance.
“Danny,” I whispered.
He lifted those crazy-gorgeous eyes with those fabulously amazing eyelashes to me.
“Won’t move it, baby, until that title changes and you get me a new one.”
Shit.
I was going to cry.
He saw it.
So he tipped his head further back, I got his message…
And kissed him.
I broke it with my hand cradling his jaw, but I didn’t move very far away.
“Are we allowed to make out at your workstation?” I asked.
“No.”
I gave him a small smile.
“Are you gonna get shit for your plaque?” I asked.
“Totally,” he answered.
The smile on my lips died, but that didn’t mean the happiness was gone.
“You don’t care, do you?” I whispered.
“Not even a little bit,” he whispered back.
“All my life, you know?”
“All your life what, baby?”
“Until you.”
He curved both arms around me and his voice was growly when he asked, “Until me, what?”
“The people I loved made loving them hard. Until you.”
I got just a growl for that as Danny slid a hand up my spine, into my hair, and then my mouth was on his again.
We made out and we kept doing it even when we heard the door open.
And we continued even as we heard boots on steps and Hawk muttering, “Yeah, Jesus, somebody kill me.”
Only then did we break it off.
Because Danny was laughing.
I was giggling.
And all was right in the world.