Chapter Thirteen
Liam
By mutual agreement, the following Monday at the office we were back to being professional, no mention of what happened in my car Saturday night. And even though I’d been the one to establish that “let’s slow things down” suggestion, I fucking hated it.
Parker and Samuel had joined us for that morning’s meeting, and Morgan sat across the conference table from me, facing the screen she’d set up for her PowerPoint presentation as she talked through the new product launch schedule for the next few months and her marketing ideas, her tone all business.
Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, bringing my attention to her pretty face and features.
She wore a navy blazer over a white blouse, looking every bit the competent marketing director.
Polished, confident, and well put together.
Despite my best intentions, every time she spoke my eyes drifted to her lips, remembering the taste of her mouth when she’d leaned across the console in my car and kissed me.
Of how she’d climbed onto my lap like she belonged there.
How goddamn hard it had been to pull back instead of following her upstairs and losing myself in her for the rest of the night.
Driving away had been the hardest decision I’d made in years, even if it had been the right thing to do.
We had this investment deal hanging over us, the launch timelines, the whole business partnership.
Screwing that up wasn’t an option. Neither was hurting Morgan again with a rash decision that was based solely on lust and desire.
“…and for the influencer rollout, I was thinking we could tie in some user-generated content to build buzz before the official drop,” she said, pointing to the slide on the screen.
I nodded in agreement, as did Samuel. “Sounds solid. What about the timeline for the beta testers?” I asked.
She dove into the details with enthusiasm, outlining the various phases, but I was only half listening.
My thoughts kept circling back to her. To us.
It wasn’t just the physical chemistry, though that mutual attraction was impossible to ignore.
It was the connection we had made during our sushi dinner when we talked about our families, and how comfortable I was with her when neither one of us had our guard up.
It was the way she’d look at me after our conversation in the car, understanding in her eyes when I said we needed to slow down.
There had been no drama. No demands. That kind of maturity drew me in deeper and made me wonder if she could be something more. Something real.
And just like our first night together, that possibility scared the shit out of me.
I was quickly realizing that Morgan Starling wasn’t someone I could handle with detachment like I was used to.
She was already so much more than that. She represented a possibility.
A risk. A door I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to open and step through.
And if I was honest with myself, I was afraid of what might happen if I did.
My last relationship had imploded because I hadn’t been enough.
Ivy hadn’t said it that way, but with distance came clarity, and I knew that was truth.
She’d been lonely. Neglected. Relegated to whatever scraps were left after twelve-hour days and the nonstop grind of Wall Street had drained every ounce of energy I had.
She’d gotten the rushed, distracted version of me.
A quick dinner here and there, half-assed conversations while I constantly checked emails, cancelling plans because work always took priority.
And romance, well, that became non-existent because I’d been too exhausted to nurture that part of our relationship.
So, she’d sought affection elsewhere. And yeah, I knew that decision was wrong and on her. She’d lied, cheated, and shattered what trust we had. She should have talked to me instead of jumping into bed with someone else.
But I wasn’t completely innocent in creating the cracks that had formed in our relationship before she’d strayed.
I hadn’t listened. I didn’t notice her unhappiness.
I hadn’t shown up the way a partner deserved.
I should have seen the signs before it all blew up in my face.
So, upon finding her with another man, my anger had been tangled up with guilt because I hadn’t been blameless in the situation.
Despite everything, the breakup left me shattered.
Guarded and unwilling to risk that kind of pain again.
But Morgan…she was different. Smart, driven, with a quiet strength that matched mine.
But if I dove in too fast, I feared I’d repeat the same mistakes—burying myself in work, leaving her with leftovers, and watching it all fall apart.
I didn’t want to hurt her like that. Hell, I didn’t want to get hurt again, either. So, if I was going to pursue her, I needed to make sure I was doing it for all the right reasons. That I was able to make her a priority without risking the business investment Simon and I had made with GalvaTech.
As she wrapped up her presentation, I forced myself to tune back in.
“I like the phasing approach,” I said, complimenting her on how well she’d balanced the timeline, because I’d heard that much of her presentation. “Keeps the momentum going without overcommitting to a singular campaign before we test the messaging.”
She smiled at me, a small, professional one, but there was a flicker of something warmer and more intimate underneath. “Agreed. I’m glad you approve. We can refine the details over the next few months.”
“Great job, as always,” Samuel chimed in. “You two seem to have everything pretty well handled and dialed in.”
Parker murmured his agreement. He hadn’t said much since the meeting started, his expression a bit pained as he’d shifted uncomfortably in his chair throughout the presentation. I chalked up his lack of input to his back injury flaring up.
The meeting wrapped, and as everyone filed out, I lingered, gathering my things slower than needed.
Morgan did too, her gaze occasionally meeting mine.
Part of me wanted to drag her off to my office, lock the door, and pick up where we’d left off Saturday.
But no. If this was going to happen—and fuck, I really wanted to try with Morgan—I needed to do it right.
Slowly. Meaningfully. Give us time to build something solid and real. She deserved that. We both did.
“So, I think we should work out a plan for building anticipation about the charger leading up to the launch,” Morgan said, her mind clearly still in business mode as she straightened her notes, then looked up at me with that focused energy I found ridiculously attractive. “Maybe brainstorm some ideas for that.”
I nodded, though I was one step ahead of her in that regard. “I had the same thought so I called in a few favors and was able to get GalvaTech signed up for CES.”
Morgan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Seriously? The Consumer Electronics Show in Vegas?”
I grinned at her, enjoying her bright, infectious smile. “Do you know of any other CES?”
She playfully pressed a hand to her chest, feigning a dramatic swoon.
“Be still my heart,” she teased, as if I’d given her a romantic present, and maybe for her, this was something that meant more than flowers or candy or jewelry—this was tailored to who she was, the marketing director with big ideas and even bigger ambitions.
“That’s quite a feat, considering how late it is in the year and the first week of January is right around the corner. The show books up years in advance.”
“I know.” I crossed my arms with a satisfied nod.
“I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to go,” she said, closing her laptop once she shut down the presentation slides. “Having GalvaTech there is a big deal.”
It definitely was. “It’ll be great exposure,” I agreed.
Excitement sparked in her eyes. “I’m impressed. I can’t believe you got us into the largest annual trade show in the U.S.”
I tipped my head. “Impressed enough to forgive me for being completely useless in our meeting?”
She blinked at me. “You were not useless.”
“Oh, I absolutely was,” I countered, lowering my voice just a notch. “You could have presented the annual budget in interpretive dance and I would’ve nodded along like it made perfect sense.”
Her lips twitched as she tried, and failed, to keep a straight face. “Is this your way of admitting you were distracted?”
“Painfully,” I confessed with a sigh.
Amusement flickered across her features, softening the professional edge she’d been maintaining all morning. “Well,” she said lightly, “maybe you’ll pay better attention at CES.”
I arched a brow. “Are you planning to hold me accountable?” I asked, enjoying our flirtatious banter. Now that we’d eliminated the tension between us, this back-and-forth felt easy and natural. Light, fun, and full of promise.
“Someone has to,” she teased. “Can’t have you wandering off because a shiny new prototype catches your eye.”
I held her gaze from across the table. “You’re assuming prototypes are my weakness,” I said, the words carrying just enough implication to make her bite her bottom lip.
“Oh?” she asked, her voice a bit breathless. “And what is your weakness?”
Dangerous question, considering the real answer was standing right in front of me. “Guess you’ll have to come to Vegas to find out.”
“Is that an invitation?” she asked huskily.
The corner of my mouth twitched with a smile. “As if you’d miss out on going.”
She laughed, the sound soft and warm and intimate between us. “You’re right. When do we leave?”
“It’s still six weeks away, but we’re looking at the first week of January,” I said, casually strolling around the table to her side, but still maintaining a respectable distance just in case anyone walked by and glanced into the conference room.
“We’ll probably be there for four or five days total. ”