“Sorry. I’m just over the freaking moon to see some good news,” Reese says. “It’s been heavy around here.”
Big fat hairy understatement.
And there’s definitely a heavy load on my mind during the drive back to Paige’s place—or am I just that obsessed with her emerald eyes?
She doesn’t get to walk when we arrive. I hoist her up and carry her upstairs, over my shoulder.
“You know this is totally unnecessary and completely ridiculous, right?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what happens when you show up to my office in heels. I’ve just got you back, woman, and I’m not leaving anything to fate,” I tell her.
“Oh, Ward, you’re such a drama hound.”
“With such strong arms. Remember, you’re here forever,” I say dead seriously.
She beats playfully on my back.
Hell, I didn’t think I could grin so much in one day.
When we’re at her door, I set her down. She unlocks it and we walk inside, hand in hand.
“Where’s the envelope? I need to see you open it.”
“It’s in my room. I hid it away so I wouldn’t have to look at it anymore.”
I stop and stare. She’s been tortured these past few weeks, and I was her inquisitor.
“I’m so sorry, Paige.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” I fire back. “I never meant any of it. I just—”
She turns to face me, covering my mouth with her hand. “It happened, it’s over, and we can’t dwell on it. We’re together now, and that’s what matters, right?”
“I love you, Paige.” I kiss her forehead. “You’ll never have to prompt me to say it again.”
She smiles up with this crescent of pink perfection on her face bound to linger in my mind. That smile holds so much more than if she’d just returned the love verbally.
I follow her into her room, sit down on her bed, and watch as she pulls the envelope from her dresser.
She holds it overhead, trying to see inside the filmy paper through the light.
“What is it?”
“Just open it.”
“Ward, if it’s a check, I don’t want it. Things are already unequal between us. No point in making it worse.” She looks at me seriously.
“How are things unequal?”
“You’re a bazillionaire, and I had to fake being your fiancèe for cash.”
“One point five million dollars cash which you negotiated well.” I chuckle. “And I hope it wasn’t that bad the whole time.”
She sighs. “It wasn’t. I fell hard, after all. I just felt bad being paid for it, you lunk.”
“It’s not a check. I promise. Open sesame,” I order.
She rips the envelope open with a crooked smile and pulls out the thick packet of paper inside. Her eyes skim over it. “It’s...a new contract from Brandt Ideas? I thought you were fishing for a new assistant?”
She looks puzzled.
“I had to do something. It’s not appropriate for me to be so involved with an employee. I want you to be our Creative Ambassador. It’s a new role. You’ll go to all the major art galas and fundraisers Grandma used to visit to represent the company. She may or may not be there, but she’s retired and off to greater things. I’d like you to hunt down new art programs worthy of our funding.”
“Ward...” Her lips open and close.
“Also, there’s a bonus—part of the job requires teaching sculpting classes, especially with kids eager to learn. You can do as many classes as you’d like. For us, it’s a chance for good PR and generous tax write-offs. All effective immediately, as soon as you sign and return it.”
For a second, I’m worried she’s about to fall through the floor.
“W-why would you do all this for me?”
My gaze locks with her eyes. “It’s not obvious?”
A heavy silence. And then, she’s moving, something like a squeal slipping out as she screams toward me at the edge of the bed.
“I love you!”
I hold my arms out just in time. She drops the packet and dives into my grasp, bowling me over onto the mattress.
Delightfully flattened, I kiss her lips, tracing a finger up the crook of her neck, her chin, her jaw.
“Well? Is that a yes?”
Her lips meet mine in a lava flow. She takes my bottom lip between hers. The growl that rips out of me takes her over.
“I don’t think I have a choice. I am unemployed.”
“What did you do with your deposit?”
“It’s in the bank, earning pretty crappy interest. Thank you, by the way.”
“Then you have a choice, sweetheart,” I say.
“I suppose,” she says with mock-reluctance. “Unemployment is kinda boring.”
She kisses me again.
I swear, I could do this for hours.
“I want you to keep working with me. I want you to have an office at the firm, so we can still slip out for lunch when I don’t have meetings.”
“You missed that too?” Her lashes flutter.
Shit, what’s wrong with this girl?
“How do I convince you I missed you? Tell me.”