Page 97 of The Boss Problem

“And what is this I hear aboutThe City Observeroffering Henry a job on their team to cover the sports issue in their sisterpaper?” I asked as she walked over to the kitchen and put the flowers in a vase.

She laughed. “They did,” she said as she picked up a soccer ball from the back of the sofa and tossed it to me.

I caught it, surprised, and tossed it back to her, and she set it down, her eyes taking on a distant look.

“Henry said he’s taking his time to decide. He’s still got four weeks until graduation, and he needs to think hard about what he wants to do next. If he took up that offer though, his office wouldn’t be too far from here.”

A piece of me didn’t like that Henry would continue to be a part of Chloe’s life for the foreseeable future. What would happen if I wanted more of Chloe’s time than she could give?

“It would be just one bus ride away from home,” Chloe continued, filling the water in the vase, oblivious to my thoughts. “And we could still live here and go to work, the two of us, and nothing would change.”

Why did I want things to change between her and me? After the conference in DC and staying away from her for a few days, I’d become insatiable with my want for her. I’d had a taste of her at my office—something I’d never thought I’d ever do—and here I was, craving more. Wanting more of her on the same day. It was madness.

I needed to get her to stop painting a picture of her future that was no different from her present. It irritated me that she thought nothing would change. That shewantednothing to change.

“Here’s the bracket,” I said, handing her the metal bracket I’d promised earlier in the day, even though I fully knew it was no longer needed. “I picked it out myself from the hardware store down the street from work.”

She took it and gave me an exasperated look that said she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re impossible,” she said and laughed.

“Come,” she said, leading the way to her bedroom.

“What about dinner?” I asked, following her to her room and stopping at the doorway. My cock was already hardening in my pants. The traitor.

It was then that I saw it—the purchase I’d had delivered to her..

A solid four-poster bed occupied the center of her room, complete with a headboard of deep blue velvet with intricate gold embroidery. The frame was made of polished mahogany with rich, dark tones.

At each corner of the bed, slender, gilded posts rose, draped with sheer, flowing white curtains. A solitary floor lamp stood next to the bed, casting a soft, golden light over it. The whole thing looked quite good, to be honest, even if the bed looked strangely shiny and out of place among her other things.

She reached up to give me a kiss, wrapping her arms comfortably around my neck.

I closed my eyes when I met her lips, wishing I could stay like this for a long time, perhaps pulling her to the bed and christening it right away.

Chloe pulled away too damned soon, but before I could fix her back in my arms, I noticed her eyes were shining.

“Thank you for the new bed. You didn’t have to.”

I caged her back in my arms anyway. She wasn’t getting more than a few inches away from me tonight.

“When did they deliver it?” I asked.

“An hour ago. The bed is sturdyandpretty. And the men who delivered it assembled it for me before leaving. I’ll sleep without a worry tonight.” She looked at the tape in her hand. “This is completely unnecessary now.”

“Hey, I made you a promise, didn’t I?” I asked. “Now, come on. Let’s go,” I said, leading the way out, determined to get her to the restaurant before my dick took over and demanded I lock the both of us in her room for a couple of nights.

We walked to the waiting car and got in, my arm slipping around her shoulders to pull her to me.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead as the car moved. “You look stunning. I’m not letting another man take a second look at you. You’re all mine tonight,” I said while she chuckled.

“What’ll you do if someone does?” she asked.

“You mean, apart from killing them and leaving them to sit in a pool of their blood?” I asked, cocking my head at her.

Her jaw slackened, and she stared at me, unsure how serious I was. I grinned.

“I might tone it down a notch,” I added when her phone rang.

She answered, and it was pretty clear from the questions that it was Henry.

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