“She came in to tell me how the morning rush went, and how Ginger screwed something up,” he explains.
“She was sitting awfully close to you. You do have an extra chair in there. No reason for her to be sitting up on your desk with that short of a skirt on.” I don’t even recognize my voice. So filled with jealousy. It’s not me.
“My Jordyn is a little jealous.” I don’t miss the hint of laughter in Brood’s tone.
“Says the guy who beat the crap out of his friend for having his arm around me.” His face darkens at that.
“She won’t be in my office like that again.” Feeling good but still sick about even saying anything, I nod my head and step forward, looping my arms around his waist.
“I don’t know what this is and—”
“What this is?” Brood’s hand comes to my chin, pulling me away from him enough so he can tip my face up. “What this is, is you are mine. My old lady. The only woman allowed to sit on my desk… among other things.” He smirks at the last part, causing me to blush. “There is that smile.” He bends down and kisses me softly before pulling away. “I’m done here, how about we go on home?” Home. The word fills me with so much joy, only it’s soon accompanied by a wave of anxiety. Butch will never let me have joy.