Page 76 of Dating the Boss
Me:Did you just stick your tongue out at me??
Reed:Maaaybe.
Me:That’s it. You and the groundhog are sleeping on the couch tonight.
I had said it to make him laugh. Because even with a door separating us, I knew he wasn’t okay. Something was eating at him. Though faint, I heard him laugh from outside my office when he opened the text.
Success.I smiled.
I left around eleven thirty to make it to my meeting across town. The client had opened a bakery café and had hired us to help with the marketing. The food was great—Reed especially loved all the cookies and sugary desserts. The business just needed a little push. I was meeting him at his workplace where we’d go over the new design the team had put together for him for a big social media campaign.
“Mr. Sawyer,” Spencer said as I walked through the door. He was thirty-one but appeared a lot younger with his sea-green eyes, lean frame, and easygoing smile. “Thank you for coming all the way here.”
“Not a problem.” I placed my briefcase on a table beside the window and took off my heavy coat.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” he asked. “Might help battle the cold.”
“Yes, please. That would be great.”
“Coming right up.” Spencer went behind the counter and grabbed two cups before filling them. “Do you want me to leave room for cream?”
“No, thank you. Black is fine.”
As a bakery café, it was more than a shop-and-go where customers bought their food and left. Instead, there was a dining area where they could sit and enjoy their food, along with a small stage in one corner for the occasional musician to come perform on weeknights and weekends. Sweets like cookies and cupcakes were sold, but so were sandwiches, coffee, and tea.
The setup was great. The interior design was spot-on. All that was needed was for people to know it was there.
“Thank you,” I said when Spencer returned to the table with our drinks. “Let’s get started.”
***
Later that evening, Reed and I ordered takeout from Mike’s Bar & Grill, then cuddled on the couch to watch a sappy romance movie. No amount of bitching could get me out of watching it because he was too excited. With Valentine’s Day on Sunday, a bunch of new Hallmark movies had been released leading up to it.
“I know how this is going to end, and I don’t even watch TV,” I said twenty minutes into the movie. “She’s going to fall in love with the chef and break it off with her douchebag fiancé, then realize she wants to stay in that little small town forever. The end.”
“Hush it, you.” Reed gently slapped my chest. “Just because it’s predictable doesn’t mean it’s not enjoyable. You’re lucky we weren’t together leading up to Christmas. I did nothing but binge-watch these all month.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll suffer this December when you do it again.”
He snickered, then grew serious. “You think we’ll still be together by then?”
An ache pierced my chest. “I hope so.”
“Me too,” he said. “This is the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had. You make me want to get up in the morning.” He squeezed my bicep. “You also make me want to hit the gym.”
“You don’t need to go to the gym,” I said, before attacking his neck with playful bites. “You’re sexy enough as it is.”
He looked like he wanted to say something but pressed his lips together instead. Once again holding whatever it was inside. He would talk to me when he was ready. But god, I wasn’t exactly a patient man.
Reed snuggled in the nook between my arm and shoulder and smiled as the chef character in the movie cooked meals and delivered them to the homeless shelter. Because of course he did. Thirty minutes later, the movie turned into a complete cheesefest, but I held my tongue because Reed was so into it.
So I watched him instead.
His hazel eyes were big and watery as the characters confessed their love to each other. They had only known each other for two weeks. However, I had no room to talk about it being too soon to feel that deeply.
I’d fallen in love with Reed long ago. I just didn’t have the guts to tell him yet. Well, not outright. On the card I’d sent with the flowers for his birthday I’d written that he’d stolen my heart, but he hadn’t put it together yet.
Or maybe he had and was choosing to ignore it.
