Page 85 of Unlocking my Boss's Heart

Her legs locked behind my thighs to steady herself from falling off the counter. That action got us even closer. I felt heat stirring through me and little fireworks exploding in my chest. I loved this woman completely.

We pushed each other’s boundaries. My hand slipped into her shirt up her back, and her hand traveled up to my scalp. My other hand reached for her thigh, and her leg hiked up mine. My mouth lowered to her collarbone, and her head stretched back to give me access. My mouth drifted to her cleavage, and her hand reached for my mouth and stopped me.

Eyes heavy with desire, I gazed into hers. She broke eye contact and placed little pecks on the tip of my nose, my cheeks, my chin, and end on my lips. Then, she murmured in my ear, “I love you, handsome. Your pizza will get cold.”

I was disappointed. She saw my fallen face and laughed. But I kept my peace, gave her pecks back, and went to wash my hands, vowing that if it depended on me, I would carry her to my bedroom.

She was too pretty, and I was too in love not to make love to her.

Early the following day, my legal team reached out and asked if I’d seen the article about me. I didn’t have a newspaper subscription, so I opened my computer to look.

The article read:

“The most wanted bachelor of New Amsterdam is off the market. Anton Waltons, JD, son of the well-known Anton Waltons Sr. of the tech giant company, is engaged to be married to his fiancée, Celia Adams. They’d just returned from Texasto announce the good news to the family of the bride-to-be. Congratulations to the couple.”

Besides the press conference where I’d stated my non-involvement in my ex’s misfortune, my legal team advised me to print an article about me and Celia as well. She didn’t like the idea, and neither did I, but our names were already out there, linked in a scandal. So, we went with the advice that would, as they put it, be the natural conclusion expected by those who heard about us.

When I got home from work, Celia visited.

From the couch where she sat, she said, “The article is well written. But…as I walked out of my apartment, I felt like everyone was looking at me,” she complained with lingering anxiety.

“Love, it’s just an illusion, your mind playing tricks on you.” I squeezed her hand gently. “I’m sure no one you crossed paths with knew you were Celia Adams,” I added, to ease the tension I felt in her.

“I know. It feels so real, though.” She paused a small smile breaking through her worry. “Nevertheless, I’m very happy with how things are turning out. Almost back to normal from the vibe I’m getting.”

“Ah, Yes” I relaxed at her changed demeanor. “We’re very lucky to catch such a quick break from that horrible defamation because the elections are coming up. They take the bulk of the news. I’m grateful for the elections,” I told her, focusing on the positive.

Her shoulders eased down, “Me, too.” Then, with a teasing glint in her eye, and playful pout forming on her lips, she asked, “How come you’re not kissing me?”

“Oh?” I grinned, leaning in closer. “I didn’t notice,” I said, my heart warming at the sight of her playful expression.

She sat up and turned to me. “Anton?” I didn’t answer and pretended to be absorbed in what was going on TV. She got up and sat on my thighs, blocking my view of the TV and gazed deep into my eyes. “Anton, what's wrong?”

I held her gaze. “I wish you would permanently move in with me.”

“That’s all?” she said, blushing. “Your mother already called me today, and we started on the wedding preparations. I want—”

I flipped her on the couch and kissed her, happy that the wedding preparations were underway. She tickled me, and I tickled her back. She managed to slip out of my hold, and I followed her. She ran around the couch; I plunged over and grabbed her at the waist. She squealed, and I laughed. I crouched down and prompted her, she sat on my shoulders, and I stood up.

“The practice for when we do it in Times Square?” she asked.

“And for when we have children?” I asked back.

She looked down, I looked up.

“I love you, Love,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. As the words left my lips, I realized just how deeply I meant them. It wasn’t just a declaration; it was a promise. A vow that I would cherish her, protect her, and hold onto this feeling for as long as I lived. Being with her made me feel whole in a way I had never imagined possible.

“I love you, handsome.”

As she looked down at me from her perch spot on my shoulders, a playful glint in her eyes, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of us. My heart swelled, the way she called me “handsome,” with that soft, affectionate tone, made me feel like I was more than just a man. I was her man.

Epilogue

The wedding

With my face perfectly made up, lips lined with soft pink gloss, and hair curled into an elegant updo accented with glittering accessories, I gazed at the reflection of my beautiful wedding gown in the mirror. It was sleeveless, save for the thin straps adorned with lace leaf and flower appliqués. Silky fabric flowed from the waist over the full satin underskirt, an intricate detailing of white flowers was embroidered in silver thread that embellished the sheer layer.

I still couldn’t believe the dress was mine or that today was my wedding day.

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