Chapter 34 New-Relationship Energy
NEW-RELATIONSHIP ENERGY
A piece of advice that’s stuck with you?
Bridget: It takes as much energy to wish as it does to plan.
Cole: Control what you can control.
brIDGET
Cole’s twitching eye was the only sign he was bothered by what I’d said—or by what I hadn’t. He got carried away, that’s all.
After a second, he stood, and with that supreme confidence I both hated and loved, swaggered naked to the kitchen.
I raked my hands through my hair. He hadn’t meant it. He was feeling the same giddiness I was about our amazing sex. It was that new-relationship buzz, not actual love. Hell, it had been less than a month since Costa Rica. He couldn’t possibly have developed feelings in that short amount of time.
“Fuck!”
“What is it?” I called. “Did you stub your naked dick on the kitchen counter?”
“No. I ruined dinner.”
I hauled myself to my feet, brushed the wrinkles out of my skirt, and went to the kitchen. He stood with his hands on his hips and glared at the now-cold dinner as if he could heat it up with his laser-beam stare. “I wanted tonight to be special,” he muttered.
I stroked his arm, and he leaned into my touch.
“It was special. You planned such a beautiful dinner.” Though it wasn’t beautiful anymore.
The balsamic sauce had soaked into the chicken, turning it an odd purple color, and the risotto looked gluey.
“Why don’t you put on clothes, and we can eat salad and dessert.
” My cheeks heated when I saw the smear of chocolate mousse on the counter and remembered what it had led to.
His shoulders heaved as he sighed. “All right.”
He went back into the living room. Tossing Savannah’s lovely chicken and risotto into the trash made my heart hurt, but it had sat at room temperature for too long, and neither of us could afford to get food poisoning between our heavy workloads and holiday obligations.
I pulled the salad out of the refrigerator and tossed it in the dressing, then divided it onto two plates.
Cole padded back into the kitchen in a pair of navy sweatpants and an elementary-school 5K T-shirt that fit tight across his chest. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.”
He poured cabernet into a pair of stemmed glasses and set them on the small table. In the center was a bud vase that held a trio of red roses. He lit a pair of candles next to the vase and then pulled out a chair for me. “Wow.” I sank into the chair. “This is nice.”
“I wanted everything to be perfect.” He caressed my shoulder. “For you.”
I covered his hand with mine and turned my head to kiss his wrist. “It is perfect. Thank you.” He squeezed my shoulder and then released it.
After fetching the salad plates, he sat in the other chair. “Bon appétit.”
I shivered. “Is this going to be enough food for you? I imagine you’re the kind of guy who burns thousands of calories a day.”
“It’s fine. Besides, I already ate.” He smirked and picked up his fork.
I squeezed my thighs together. “I remember.” I was glad to be back to the flirtatious teasing, without the scary L-word.
I speared some salad on my fork and popped it into my mouth.
The lettuce was crunchy, and there were tangy dried cherries alongside salty bits of goat cheese, plus toasted almonds.
Savannah’s signature sour-sweet balsamic dressing tied everything together deliciously. I hummed with satisfaction.
His gaze snagged mine. “Will you stay tonight?”
I swallowed. He’d asked me to sleep over, not to marry him. It would be no different from the nights I’d slept in his hotel room in Costa Rica. Or not slept, actually, because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. “Okay.”
He nodded and took another bite of his salad. “Do you have plans next weekend? I’ll have Caitlyn. We could go to a museum or the beach.”
“Friday is Christmas,” I reminded him. “My family has scheduled activities all weekend. Church, Christmas light viewing, baking cookies, you know.”
“Right.” He stabbed at his salad. “Could I meet your family sometime?”
“Um.” I blinked away visions of my sisters squealing and my mother calling the church secretary to check for openings on the wedding calendar. “It’s been a long time since they’ve met anyone I’ve dated. They might get overexcited.”
“Have you told them about us yet?”
I set down my fork and hid my trembling fingers in my lap.
“Not yet. I was waiting to see how things went, you know? Besides, the fewer people who know about this, the better.” Something flashed across his face.
Fearing it might have been hurt, I said, “I’d love for them to meet you.
Maybe after the holidays. After the ninety days are up. ”
“Is it the age difference?”
“You mean, am I hesitating to introduce you to my family because you’re younger than me? My sisters will definitely make a big deal about it. They’re relentless. Do I care?” I tipped up my chin. “No.”
“And what about your parents?”
“They’d be ecstatic I’m finally…” How to end that? In a relationship sounded overconfident.
“Happy?” he supplied.
“Exactly.” I was happy around him. The new-relationship energy we had was intoxicating. The only thing that dimmed it was anticipating the terrible things that might happen if we were found out at work.
“Me too.” He leaned over and kissed me.
I hummed at the soft press of his lips and his fresh, herbal scent. But a sense of doom pressed on me. “What if people at work find out?”
“They won’t.” He brushed my hair from my cheek behind my ear, his fingers lingering at my jaw. “Not until we’re ready.”
“What if I’m never ready?” I scanned his expression for the reassurance I craved.
“Being public at work sounds terrifying. My friend Tessa had things go to shit—twice—when she dated a colleague. Though she worked things out with the second guy. Still, I don’t think our board would be as understanding.
Especially not for me. Did you know John had an affair with his administrative assistant?
She was fired, and absolutely nothing happened to him. ”
“You’re no secretary. They wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Wouldn’t they?” I poked a slivered almond.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he growled.
“What do you think is going to happen with the board at the review next month?” I pushed the almond between two dried cherries like the mature person I was.
“Depends on what you want.”
That made me look up. “What do you mean? It’s their decision, not mine or yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He took my left hand and brought my knuckles to his lips. “You control the outcome.”
“How?”
“Instead of asking what they’ve decided, tell them what’s best for the company. When we show them our results from the trial period, we’ll present our arguments about the benefits of sharing the CEO position. Together.”
“Are you sure you’re on board with that?” It wouldn’t be the first time someone at work had agreed to something in private and then reversed course.
“Of course I am. Not only do we each bring our unique strengths to the role, but sharing it would bring both of us better work-life balance. We could spend time together. And with Caitlyn, if you’re open to that. I promise, she’s a funny, active little girl when she’s not sick.”
“She’s a sweet kid. And I’d love to spend time with you both. She and my niece, Ashlyn, will get along great together.”
“I love it. Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, we can start working on the presentation.”
“After we do that thing we did in Costa Rica.” I lifted my chin.
“Which thing?” A smile curled his lips. “The mirror thing, or the outside thing?”
I shivered. “It’s not warm enough for outside.”
“I’ve got a rooftop deck with a fireplace. It’s private. Though”—he smirked—“if I make you scream loud enough, the neighbors might hear.”
I picked up my plate. “Show me tonight? We can do the mirror thing tomorrow.”
I could have both. And if we played it right, we could have it all.