One Bossy Offer (87)

I roll my eyes. “What are you actually doing? What are you hiding under there?”

“Cookies.”

“You’re still lying.” I wish he’d just tell me.

Enough of this.

Fighting back a smile, I push my chair out and stand.

He hunches over his desk, guarding his secret closer.

I walk up behind him, snake my arms around his neck, and try to pull him up, but he’s too strong. I can’t move him an inch.

But I slip my hand under his collar and start drawing tiny hearts over his bare skin. At first he holds steady, but it isn’t long before I find a ticklish spot just under his ear, and he relaxes into the back of his chair.

“Not fair,” he growls. “You’ll pay for this later.”

“Make me,” I whisper.

Now that he’s out of the way, I can see he’s propped the bottom of his desk calendar up and there’s—a small canvas under it?

Red-brown waves crawl to the edge of the painting, and it takes me a second to decipher it.

No way.

No flipping way.

It’s—

A beautiful woman.

Emerald-green eyes.

Hair bursting around her like it’s part of the sunset.

She stares up at me like my best self looking back from the mirror.

I can’t help the gasp that slips out of me.

“Miles, you—oh my God.”

“Told you not to look. You ruined the surprise.”

“You’re painting me,” I finish.

With a wonderful chuckle, he spins his chair and pulls me into his lap.

“Hope you don’t mind—and if you do, I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to touch you with my brush since the first time I saw you. You gave me the perfect opportunity, working your sweet little ass off in the corner. You’re beautiful in profile, woman. Fuck, I—”

I don’t let him finish.

I just press my lips to his, overwhelmed with butterflies I can’t even describe. If I’m lost in heady emotions, he must feel it too.

He kisses me so thoroughly my lips feel raw.

“You like it?” he whispers, this adorable hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Are you joking? I love it.” I find his lips again.

His tongue caresses mine.

Then a throat clears loudly at the open door and a hand knocks.

“Mr. Cromwell, the dinner you ordered has arrived. Your ice cream and carrot cake are in the fridge. Should I leave the rest outside if you’re working late?” Benson asks with a knowing smile that almost makes me faint.

In his usual sleek black livery, he looks like the world’s best put together DoorDasher. He’s carrying a box of nachos and a pepperoni pizza as wide as Miles’ chest from the pub. The entire junk food feast I insisted on tonight.

He’s a nice enough guy, but I want to tell Miles to put a freaking bell around his neck.

Miles releases my mouth. “On my desk is fine.”

Benson walks over, gently sets the food down, and asks about plates and silverware. Miles waves him off since it’s all finger food.

“Enjoy. Also... I’m glad to see you happy again,” he adds, making his way to the door without a glance back.

“Good night, Benson.”

After sunset and eating half my body weight in pepperoni and the stringiest mozzarella sticks known to mankind, I give Miles a tired look. “Oh, man. The dogs will need to go out soon.”

“Night run on the beach? It’ll help you feel human again.”

“Only if you’re taking Coffee. No way I’ll keep up with him tonight.”

“This speedy boy? He’s just full of energy.”

Coffee lifts his head up and lays it on Miles’ knee, winning himself a head pat.

“He’s a good boy, aren’t you, Coffee?”

Coffee groans his agreement tiredly.

I burst out laughing again.

He’s very good at that.

Once I settle my stomach enough to trick my legs into working, Miles leads Coffee ahead on a leash while I hang back with Cream.

He’s right about the walk. It helps shake off the pizza coma, even if I don’t admit it. We wind up going farther than planned.

When I look up while Cream darts at a little frog diving under a rock, we’re on the stretch of beach leading into town, roughly behind the general store. He hands me Coffee’s leash.

“Your turn.”

I take it, winding it around my hand with Cream’s. “You’re wimping out on me now?”

“I need a bottle of water. Do you want a drink?”

“Nope, your water will be fine,” I tease.

“Greedy kitten. I’ll get two.” He leans in and kisses me.

“Fine, but since I’ve got the dogs, you can carry them both. The whole point of drinking your water is so I don’t have to carry the bottle.”

He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re lucky I’m smitten.”

While Miles runs inside the store, I walk ahead and set the dogs free so they can play in the sand.

As I smile up at the night sky above, offering a hint of my happiness to the rolling darkness, I wonder how long this fairy tale can last.

From everything he’s said about Simone Niehaus—everything he was willing to share—swatting down her attack piece on this town won’t be the end of it.