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Getting under my boss’s skin is the second-greatest highlight of my day.
Biting back a smile, I channeled our lord and savior Miss Taylor Alison Swift by painting on a bold red lip.
When I was out of sight, I finally slowed and pulled the notepad from my pocket. I scribbled down exactly the way Sloane smelled so I wouldn’t forget. Honey. Biscuits. Home.
“Some of us can see beauty in what others would call trash. Even something broken can be loved.”
I bit back a squeal when I realized the answer was right there in front of me. All I had to do was convince my surly boss to marry me.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that.” I swallowed hard. “Like what?” I knew exactly how I was looking at her. Sloane slid the glass away, then leaned on the island. “Like you’re up to no good.” I let my smile spread, slow and easy. “I’m just looking at my wife and wondering how the hell I got here.”
“You’re my wife, Sloane.” I drew circles as I indulged in the smoothness of her skin. “You’re mine for as long as I can keep you.”
“I will always protect you. You’re mine. My wife.”
Nothing’s changed? Are you fucking kidding me? Everything has changed.
“You stay away from my wife and kids. If I so much as hear a whisper of your name in this town, you’re a fucking dead man.”
My son’s shoulders straightened. “I’m okay. I’m not afraid when Abel can keep us safe.”
Tillie didn’t even hesitate. “He watches you. He watches you and he smiles.”
