Page 25 of Hitched to my Boss

"Finding myself married to someone I actually want to be married to," she says quietly.

The simple statement sends warmth through my chest. It's the first time either of us has admitted that this might be more than damage control, more than a business arrangement that got complicated.

"Even though you've only been to the cabin once before?"

"Even though." She squeezes my thigh gently. "Jason, I've lived in a dozen different cities, stayed in hundreds of hotels, and worked in countless offices. None of them ever felt like home. But something about your cabin, about this place, feels right in a way I can't explain."

I turn into my driveway, the familiar sight of my cabin coming into view through the trees. But seeing it through Natalia's eyes, it looks different somehow. Less like a hiding place and more like the foundation for something bigger.

"Second thoughts?" I ask as I park beside the front porch.

"About staying married to you? About moving in with a man I've known for three weeks? Or about completely rearranging my life for someone who might decide he's not ready for this level of commitment?" She grins at my expression. "None whatsoever."

I laugh, relieved by her humor and honesty. "You know, most people would consider those pretty significant concerns."

"Most people don't wake up married to someone they were already falling for."

"Already falling for?" The words catch me off guard.

"Too much?" She looks suddenly uncertain. "I know it's fast, but Jason, what I felt for you before we got drunk and did something crazy doesn't feel new. It feels like recognition. Like I've been waiting to find you without knowing that's what I was doing."

The admission hits me square in the chest because I understand exactly what she means. From that first day when she'd appeared on my doorstep, competent and beautiful and completely unintimidated by my reputation, something had clicked into place that I hadn't even known was missing.

"Not too much," I tell her, bringing her hand to my lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. "Perfect amount."

"Good. Because I plan on saying it frequently."

We sit in the car for another moment, both of us seeming to realize that walking through that front door together represents a significant step. This isn't a business meeting or a temporary arrangement anymore. This is the beginning of trying to make an accidental marriage into something real.

"Ready?" I ask finally.

"Ready."

I carry both our bags to the front door, fumbling slightly with the keys because I'm acutely aware of Natalia beside me, her presence making everything feel ceremonial and important.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Wallace," I say as I push open the door.

She steps inside, and I watch her take in the space with new eyes. The cabin looks exactly the same as when we left, but somehow it feels different. More welcoming, like it's been waiting for her to return and claim her place here.

She turns to face me, and there's something almost reverent in her expression. "Mrs. Wallace. I’m starting to like the sound of that."

"So am I." I set our bags by the stairs, suddenly uncertain about the logistics of this next phase. "Should I show you where everything is? Help you get settled?"

The question hangs between us, loaded with practical implications we haven't discussed. Where will she sleep? Howdo we navigate sharing a space when we're still figuring out what we are to each other?

"I'd like that. But first..." She steps closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume and see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. "Now that we're finally alone, and we're both sober and making conscious choices, I think my husband should properly kiss his wife."

The request sends heat racing through my veins. Our kiss at the conference had been protective, claiming, driven by adrenaline. This would be different. Intentional.

"Are you sure?" I ask, because once I kiss her like I want to, there's no going back to professional boundaries.

"I'm sure." She reaches up to touch my face, her fingertips tracing along my jaw. "Jason, I want this. I want you. I want to see if what we felt in Vegas was real or just Vegas magic."

Her request is my undoing. I pull her to me, and she launches herself into my arms with a wild, passionate kiss that takes my breath away. Her hands are in my hair, pulling me closer, and I can feel the heat of her body through our clothes.

I back her against the wall, my mouth on hers like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. Her fingers roam over my back, urgent, possessive. When she nips at my lip, I groan, lifting her off her feet so she’s pressed between me and the cabin wall, exactly where she belongs.

Her legs wrap around my waist, and I slide my hands beneath her sweater, desperate to touch her, to feel her skin against mine. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in the sensation of her, the way her body fits against me like it was made for this, for us.

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