Page 51 of Kissing Flynn

“How would you feel if I had?”

“Relieved. Happy for her. Damn proud, actually.”

He nods, the movement slow and thoughtful as a calculated gleam shines in his eyes. “And I suppose you want me to keep this conversation quiet and allow you to stay so she won’t know you forfeited?”

“That would be ideal, yes,” I say, and he nods again.

“Okay. I won’t say a word. I’ll have a valet fetch you both for breakfast in the morning so I can reveal my decision.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, then rise from my chair. “I appreciate your discretion.”

“Of course. Of course,” he says, his tone distracted as he turns his attention back to his drink, picking the glass up to take a sip.

I’m obviously dismissed, so I turn to go. I can feel his gaze burning into my back, and I fight the urge to turn around for confirmation. Outside the office, I stop and take a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

I feel like a weight has been lifted, and it honestly surprises me. Even though I knew I was doing the right thing, I was sure I’d feel at least some disappointment at pulling my horse from this race. It really is the opportunity of a lifetime.

But I only feel relief and happiness for Max. This is going to be huge for her. She’ll do an amazing job on Barnard’s biography, and it will open so many doors for her in the future.

Maxine Nolan is destined for great things, and I have zero regrets in stepping out of her way.

Nodding to myself, I head back upstairs. In my room, I kick off my shoes and tug my shirt off. Stepping into Max’s room, I’m relieved to find her still asleep. On light feet, I walk back over to her bed and crawl in next to her.

Gentle, so as not to wake her, I pull her back into my arms. She sighs and snuggles into my chest like it’s the only spot she wants to be, even in sleep. Tightening my arms round her, I close my eyes and imagine the joy that will spread across her face when Barnard tells her she’s his pick tomorrow. My lips curl upward and heat blooms in my chest.

And as I start to drift to sleep, thoughts of being away from her for months while she writes this book try to intrude. I push them away and focus on her happy expression. The feel of her in my arms, right here, right now.

I know I did the right thing.

I’d sacrifice anything to make the woman I love happy.

Anything.

Thirty-One

Barnard

I huff out a laugh and slam my palm against the polished wood of my desk.

I knew I made the right choice.

I damn-well knew it.

Thirty-Two

Max

Sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains over the windows wakes me, and a contented sigh slips out of me when I find myself still snuggled in Flynn’s warm embrace. Even in sleep, we refused to move away from each other.

The events of last night come back to me in a rush, and my eyes drift closed. Barnard will probably announce Flynn as the winner this morning, which means I’ll be expected to leave immediately.

This might be the last time were alone together like this for weeks. Maybe even months. And knowing that, I refuse to waste a second of it.

Turning my head, I press a warm kiss to the center of Flynn’s chest. With a light touch, I skim my palm over his skin, memorizing every hill and valley of his torso before sliding my hand over his shoulder and around the back of his neck. Sifting my fingers through his hair, I marvel at how soft it is as I watch his sleeping face. His muscles start to twitch, and I smile as his sleepy eyes slowly blink open.

“Good morning,” I whisper, pressing another kiss to his chest.

“Good morning,” he repeats, his voice thick and husky with sleep. “What time is it?”

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