Page 91 of The Boss and the Adoption Mess
Does he understand what I mean?
We hold each other’s gaze until he clasps my hands again and smiles. "Thank you, Kim. It means more than I can say that you’re with me."
"Together, we can handle anything." I lean forward, kiss his cheek, and stand. "Tea? Or champagne? We do have something to celebrate."
Gabriel leans back, his gaze gentle. "Tea is enough for me."
"Then tea it is."
I quickly boil the water and tidy the last pots and pans. I love making life a little warmer for him and Rosie—in this role, I completely thrive.
"These are for you." I open one of the tins we bought at the Christmas market. Inside are the homemade cookies Rosie and I baked: heart-shaped, filled with jam. So-calledshortbread-cookies.
“The star-shaped ones are yours. The heart-shaped ones in the other tin are for Rosie and me—low-sugar jam and sweetener. We can snack on them too. And of course, we baked some for Steven and Sally to bring to the office."
Gabriel takes one and tries it. "They’re good."
"You sound surprised. Of course they’re good. They’re baked with love." I giggle and move to close the tin, but he catches me, pulling me onto his lap. His arms wrap around my waist, his face buried in my neck.
"So that’s why they’re so delicious," he murmurs.
"That’s the secret ingredient."
I enjoy the closeness and set the tin aside, covering his hands with mine. How good it feels to simply be with him.
After tea and cookies, we leave the spotless kitchen. It’s late; we really should go to bed. Tomorrow is Saturday, and we can sleep in—though Rosie hasn’t quite learned that yet. On weekends, she's wide awake and full of energy by eight at the latest.
"If you need anything—anything at all—I’m just a room away," I tell him upstairs, pointing to my little “sleep paradise.” Gabriel pauses beside me, his eyes on mine. "In case you don’t want to be alone. Or… want to talk."
Gabriel doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he steps closer, a faint smile on his lips, and places a hand at the back of my neck, drawing me into a soft kiss.
"Do you want to be alone tonight?" he asks quietly.
I swallow, staring into his moss-green eyes. They’re lit with such yearning it steals my breath.
"No," I whisper as his hand slides down my arm and over my shoulder. He takes my hand, steps back a few paces, and pulls me into his bedroom. My heart races—we’ve never been in here together before. I’ve hung his shirts and suits in the closet a few times, but that’s the extent of it.
“We could use the key,” he says as we reach the bedroom door.
“What key?” I whisper, excited. Only one comes to mind—but surely he doesn’t mean that one?
“The one you used back then to open my cabinet and then placed incorrectly on the book in the drawer.”
Yep. Exactly the key I was thinking of. I swallow nervously and manage a small smile.
“You never said anything,” he teases, grinning broadly as he opens the door.
“What should I have said? That I confused your clothes cabinet with your toy cabinet?”
“And that you were looking for a key?”
“Yes…”
Like a little snoop.
“We can also just spend the night together. Whatever you want.”
“Rosie could go to a friend’s tomorrow, to play,” I suggest as we step inside.
