Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(42)

Will flipped the omelet over in the pan, turned the heat down, and disconnected his call with Chance. He hadn’t expected the third degree when he called in “sick” today, but when his brother figured out he was actually calling in “well,” all was good. He grinned at how “well” he actually felt. His whole body hummed with satisfaction. She was nothing short of amazing. Claire had woken him for another board meeting as the sun came up.

Grinning, he popped down some toast, divided the omelet onto two plates, and poured a couple of cups of coffee.

“Smooth Operator” sounded from his phone. Evidently, he was going to have to tell Michael that he was off the job for a while. But that could wait. He hit the ignore button.

“Hey.”

His heart gave a surprising lurch at the sound of her voice. “Hey, yourself. Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great.”

He noticed her hair was wet from her shower as she climbed onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar across from him.

“You look great.” He dropped a piece of toast on her plate and placed it on the bar along with the cup of coffee. She took a sip as he placed his plate and cup next to hers, then walked around to join her.

He ran his hands possessively over her ass and kissed her neck. “I’m glad you stayed last night. I can’t believe I even considered taking you home.”

“Momentary lapse in good judgment and common sense.”

“No doubt.” He slid onto the stool next to her. “I’m glad you persisted.”

“I’m nothing if not persistent.” Her phone went off in her back pocket. She yanked it out and glared at the screen. “Ugh. Heather’s driving me nuts. She’s persistent, too.”

So was he. He wanted as much of this woman as he could have for as long as he could keep her—and he wanted it interruption-free. No phones, brothers, or best friends. He’d been thinking about getting her alone and away from regular life all morning, and he had the perfect plan. “Can you take time off from your packing for a few days?”

She bit a hunk off her toast. “Depends on the incentive package, Mr. Anderson.”

He almost stooped to the level of making a package joke, but resisted. “I’ll make it worth your time, I promise.”

“Overtime?”

“As much as you can stand.”

She laughed. “Hey, wait. You promised swans.”

He picked up his plate and coffee mug, then grabbed the entire loaf of bread. “And Miss Maddox, I always deliver. Follow me.”

They spent the rest of breakfast sitting on a bench tossing bread to the swans that were mucking around in the reeds just off his deck while they talked about the remodel of his home and laughed. They laughed a lot, which is exactly what he needed most. Because of this woman, his broken soul had healed more in the last week than it had over the previous eight months. She was a drug and he was completely hooked. The DT’s when she left would be excruciating.

He studied her as she scolded one of the cygnets for swiping a crust from another and marveled at his good fortune.

And she’d agreed to spend time with him. He knew exactly where he wanted to take her and needed to make arrangements. Plate and mug in hand, he stood. “I need to make some calls. You good here?”

“I’ve never been better,” she said, “subtext intended.”

“Subtext appreciated.” He leaned down and kissed her. He wanted to just drop the damn plate and go back to the bedroom, but a swan nipped his shorts and gave them a tug, killing the impulse. She giggled and the swan honked. “I know when I’m not wanted,” he joked. He turned to the swan, which had grown to be the size of its parents, but still was tinged with its baby gray. “I see the gratitude I get for letting you camp in my yard.”

Will watched her continue to feed the swans through the patio door as he made a series of calls he hoped would make for the best weekend of her life yet—of their lives. This was for him as much as her. He’d devote himself to finding the spy when he returned, but first, they both needed some R & R.

…

Claire was surprised when Will was in too big a hurry to fool around after breakfast, and even more surprised when Jacob pulled into the driveway in the limo.

“No bike this time. I don’t want to leave it at the airport until Sunday,” Will said, strolling into the living room and opening the front door. “You ready?”

Holy crap. They were flying somewhere. And Sunday meant they’d be there three days and two nights. “Um, no. I don’t have a change of clothes or anything.”

“Already taken care of,” he said, gesturing for her to lead to the limo.

“Good morning, Mr. Anderson. Great to see you again, Miss Maddox,” Jacob said, opening the car door.

Claire ducked in and caught her foot on the rim of the door, just like before. Evidently, Will had anticipated the Claire-ism and wrapped his arms around her from the back before she crashed to her hands and knees.

“It is a good morning,” Will said, still holding her from behind. “Thanks, Jacob.” He released her and she moved to the seat at the back of the limo, heart hammering, not only from her near fall, but from having his big body mashed against her back.

“I’ll have you at MacArthur in no time. I talked to Dan and they’re ready for you.”