Chapter 38
Colin
The last thing I want to do is talk about my uncle, but I’m fine with her being angry at him and not at me. I move my chair closer to her and clasp her chin. Her skin’s soft, and so are her brown eyes. I love it when she looks at me this way.
“I want us to eat dinner and go back to my place. We can watch a movie before we go to bed and make love. I want to wake up with you tomorrow and every day after that. I just want to be with you, Honeybee.” She looks into my eyes as if she’s trying to read my mind. “Come closer.” I help pull her chair close to mine, and she rests her head on my shoulder.
“I want that too,” she finally whispers. “I wanted it when we met, but—”
“Then let’s be together.”
“You make it sound so easy, but the reality is, it’s not that simple. You’re my boss.”
“Where was this concern when you told me you weren’t attending more meetings? Or the times before that when you ignored my orders? Don’t forget all the attitude you gave me. Those looks almost killed me.”
“Well, I was pissed the fuck off,” she says. “But I don’t want to be angry anymore. I’ve made peace with how things turned out about the promotion. It is what it is. As much as I wanted it, Mr. Kincaid gave it to you, and there’s nothing I can do about that. Being angry won’t fix anything.” It looks like she wants to say more, but she doesn’t.
“What else are you concerned about?”
“It’s never a good idea to date someone you work with.”
“We started before the job got between us. We made plans before Milton blew it up to smithereens.”
“Have you ever dated a black woman before?”
“Yes,” is all I say.
Her head snaps up in shock, and then she arches an eyebrow.
“Really? Esme?” she whispers.
“No. She’s Colombian.”
“Then who?”
“Does that matter? It’s in the past, but there was Lucinda and Faye.”
“Two?” She leans back in her chair. “I never would have guessed,” she says, looking at me over the rim of her champagne flute.
“Enough about that. Just tell me what I want to hear.”
She giggles at the question. “We’re kind of too old for the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, don’t you think?”
“You’re never too old to fall in love.” Her breath hitches, and a blush spreads across her cheeks. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” I cup her cheeks and plant a kiss on her lips. “But I don’t want anyone in the office to know.”
And my good mood dies. “I don’t want a relationship in secret,” I say. That’s the one thing I will fight her on.
“Not secret. I don’t want that either, but I want privacy in the office. I don’t want to announce it at work yet, but outside of Kincaid Architecture, we’re together. You might get sick of me in a couple of weeks, though.”
I kiss the side of her neck. “That’s never going to happen, but okay. Our relationship is no one’s business, but I won't deny it if we get found out. And we come public to the office in thirty days or when we’re outed. Whichever comes first.”
“Deal.” She picks up her champagne flute, and I do the same. We clink. “To me and my boyfriend,” she says with a laugh.
“I love the sound of that. Come here.” I cup her face and kiss her on the mouth. It’s not a deep kiss, but it’s intimate and sensual. “Let’s get through this damn dinner and go home.”
My office door swings open, and Heath barges in like a man on a mission. To my disappointment, there’s no coffee in his hand for me. It’s barely eight-thirty in the morning, but I’m exhausted from spending the night with my girlfriend. After dinner, we returned to my place, but we went to bed instead of watching a movie and spent the next few hours loving each other before falling asleep in a sweaty mess. We woke up less than an hour ago and showered together.
“You won’t believe this, but someone stole my chocolates,” Heath says. I don’t bother hiding my eye-roll. “Don’t roll your eyes. Those chocolates are imported from Belgium, and some greedy person just swiped them from my desk. Why take imported, high-end chocolate when a Hershey bar would do?” He huffs as if some missing chocolate is the worst thing in life.
“Can you get me some coffee?” I ask. “And check your email. I don’t really give a damn about your chocolates right now, Heath.”
“I bet you Ice Princess took them.” He crosses his arms, and I look at him for the first time. He’s in a navy blue cardigan over a white button-down shirt and dark blue pants. He doesn’t look terrible today.
“Her name is Brynne Barber, not Ice Princess,” I say, ready to defend my girlfriend. “And why would she take your candy?”
“Candy? Chocolates made by hand by the premier chocolatier from The City of Brussels cannot be reduced to just candy,” he scoffs. “Uncle Colin the First got them for me for Christmas. Every month for the next year, I’ll get a different—”
“Then you’ll get more soon,” I say, cutting him off. “Get my coffee and go check your email.” I gesture for him to leave my office.
“Why on earth are you so tired?” he asks. Instead of leaving, he comes closer. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.” He stretches and makes a loud groaning noise. “This storm was the best thing to happen to me. I exfoliated my pores and conditioned my cuticles. I gave myself a facial and walked around the house in nothing but my cashmere robe. It was wonderful for my mental health.” He looks down at his hands. Then he runs them along my face. “See? Softer than a baby’s butt. This is exactly how that cashmere robe felt on my bare ass.”
“Can you please go get my coffee?” I knock his hand away. I hate to admit it, but his hand is very smooth.
“Hmph,” he says before he walks out, leaving me alone for now.
My computer dings and a new email from Raven Bennett comes through. Before I could open it, my office phone rings.
“Well, this is a first,” I say into the receiver.
“It’s me. Your girlfriend,” she whispers.
“My beautiful, smart, and sexy girlfriend,” I whisper back. “I miss you. Come to my office and sit on my lap. By the way, Heath’s on a mission for the person who took his chocolates.”
“The reason for my call, Mr. Kincaid, is to invite you to my place for dinner tonight. I will cook for you, and then I want you to spend the night in my bed. And I don’t give a damn about Heath or his disgusting chocolates. I took great pleasure in putting them in your garbage disposal.”
“Well, I like the sound of that. I accept.”
“Okay, I have to get to work, and since you’re the boss, you should know I’m leaving early today so I can get ready for my boyfriend later.”
“Well, you have my permission to leave early.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, Kincaid. The day I ask you for permission to do anything is the day that aliens invade my body.”
“The only thing allowed to invade your body is my dick. You got that, Ms. Barber?”
“Don’t you start making claims on my body,” she warns.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That I’m the only one who can have those lips and that pussy. Not to mention that ass.”
“Oh, no. I’m not one of those types of women. I’ll never say that, so get used to it, Kincaid.”
“You sly dog,” Heath says after sticking his head in my office. He practically skips to my desk, stands over it, and looks down at me. I check the time and grimace when I realize I still have three hours before I can leave.
“What?” I ask as I stare at one of the monitors on my desk.
“I didn’t think you preferred blondes. Remember when I met Esme? I thought she was more your type, but this one.” He wiggles his brows, puts his hands on his hips, and swivels them.
“Heath, can you get to the point? And why didn’t you bring me a coffee?” He waits until I become dependent on my afternoon caffeine and stops bringing it to me.
“There’s a Francesca in the lobby waiting for you.” I stand so abruptly that my chair slides and hits the wall behind me.
“Is Brynne still here?” I ask.
He waves me away and makes a face like he smells something foul. “Who cares? Didn’t you hear me? A beautiful woman is waiting for you out there.” He points at the door. “Can you ask her what conditioner she uses? Her hair looks amazing.”
I ignore my nephew and hightail it out of my office to do damage control. Brynne has a bit of a jealous streak, and I love that about her, but I don’t want to piss her off. I exhale in relief when there’s no sign of her in the hallway or by Ernestine’s cubicle. It’s possible she already left for the day, but she promised to come by my office before leaving.
Francesca stands by the front desk and sticks out like a sore thumb. When she sees me, she waves and bounces on her high-heeled boots.
“Rawr,” Heath purrs next to me, and that’s when I notice Francesca is in a long animal print wool coat. She’s even wearing a matching hat. I reach her and start to steer her toward the front door.
“Hey, stranger,” she says. “I’m here to see how you survived the storm.” She pulls out of my hands and leans in for a hug. I hear familiar voices and pull away, but Francesca grabs my hands.
“I’ll send you an email about that later,” I hear Brynne say, “and we’ll talk about the logistics of your promotion. I’ll schedule some time for us to sit down with Mr. Kincaid and—”
“You promoted that hag?” Heath asks. If he had a modicum of tact, he would have whispered it, but he didn’t. I ignore him and manage to yank my hands from Francesca’s, but she moves closer and threads her arm through mine. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, but she’s like a damn boa constrictor.
Brynne and Ernestine make my line of vision as I’m trying to pull away from Francesca without success. Ernestine smirks, but Brynne stops walking and looks from me to my unwanted guest.
“Mr. Kincaid, it’s so good to see you,” Ernestine says, doing her best to be civil now that she’s gotten that promotion. She even smiles. Brynne doesn’t, though. She yanks on her coat and angrily buttons it. Her nostrils are flared when she raises her head and looks at me again.
“Who do we have here?” Brynne practically sneers.
“That’s Francesca,” Heath says, smiling so wide I can see all his teeth. “Mr. Kincaid, I’ll go make you a café au lait. I’ll make one for you too, Francesca.” He looks Ernestine and Brynne up and down before walking away without another word to them.
“Nonfat milk,” Francesca says to his retreating back.
Brynne eyes me one more time before she faces Ernestine. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says to her. “And Mr. Kincaid, enjoy your coffee.” She walks away, but I hear her say, “Hopefully, you’ll choke on it.”