36. Ariel Cambridge
Chapter thirty-six
Ariel Cambridge
My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.
“Is it wrong that today is a day I will forever mark as one of the greatest ever?” I ask Bethanne.
We’re standing outside Houston’s office. His empty office. Because he resigned. We both think he was fired, but the company memo said resigned.
“I’m going to make a page in my scrapbook for it.” Bethanne lifts her phone, takes a photo of the empty office, then flips the camera to front-facing mode. We’re both beaming. She snaps a few photos while giggling.
“Did you make a page for when Dominic turned him into a sad puddle on the ground?”
Bethanne juts her bottom lip out. “No. I didn’t have any photos, not even of the event in general. I was distracted by how yummy Dominic looked in a suit.”
I laugh. “I can understand your obsession after how he protected you.”
She places a hand on her chest and lets out a dreamy sigh. Her face takes on a far-off look, and I know she’s reliving the moment. I’ve relived that night several times too, but for different reasons.
“Should I leave you alone?” I joke.
She snaps back into focus. “Sorry. It’s just hard not to replay him saying my wife over and over.”
I interlock my arm with hers and steer her back toward our desks. Today is a celebration, but we do have to get work done. Or at least look like we’re being productive.
“Very valid of you. I would do the same. If Brock called me his wife while wearing a suit, I think I would faint.”
“Is that so?” a familiar silken voice asks. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
Brock is in my cubicle. He’s sprawled out in my chair, a bouquet of pristine white roses hanging from one of his hands.
Bethanne giggles like a schoolgirl next to me. “I’ll leave you alone.” She slips away to her cubicle where she’s a hundred percent going to listen to every word we say.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, my face burning from what he heard.
Surely it’s too soon to be fantasizing about being his wife.
The man has barely wrapped his head around a commitment other than his business, and I’m over here acting like a marriage proposal is on the horizon.
I’m going to scare him. Like I’ve done with every man I’ve ever liked for longer than one date.
Brock stands. I take in his signature black suit with his white shirt unbuttoned at the top.
His hair is tamer today, pushed back with some kind of product.
The clean look combined with the roses makes my heart skip.
He looks debonair, like the lead in one of the movies Sutton and I used to watch together.
“I came to ask you to get lunch with me, and learn some valuable information, apparently.”
I roll my eyes. “I was joking. Clearly exaggerating.”
“Oh really?” He steps closer. His free hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him. I feel his lips against my ear. “So saying my wife doesn’t affect you?”
“Not at all,” I whisper.
I feel him smirk. “You wouldn’t feel anything if I introduced you as my wife , Ariel?”
My whole body warms as though I’ve sat in the hot tub at the cabin too long. Great, now I’m thinking about Brock shirtless in a jacuzzi. Not helpful.
“Nope, nothing.”
“And if, when I threatened Houston at the event, I told him he better not disrespect my wife , you’d…?”
Die. I’d melt into a puddle, never to be seen again. Kind of like I am right now.
I draw in a shaky breath.
He chuckles, low and raspy near my ear before kissing right below it.
“ One day .” The words barely qualify as a whisper when he pulls away. I sway toward him, my knees feeling weak. One day? I meet his warm brown eyes. My big, romantic heart snags on those two little words.
Brock holds the flowers between us, seemingly unaware of how he’s affected me. I note the smirk on his lips. Correction, he’s aware, and enjoying it. Insufferable, perfect man.
I take the bouquet from him.
“What are these for?” I murmur and breathe in their sweet scent.
“I wanted you to have a reminder of how beautiful I think you are while you’re at work.” A squeak comes from Bethanne’s cubicle. Brock glances over, amusement lining his expression. “But you don’t have a vase.”
“I’ve never needed one. No one has ever given me flowers.”
“Let’s stop by the store after lunch and get one. You’ll need it.”
I smile down at the bouquet. I’ve never seen flowers so perfect before. There’s not a single brown spot or torn petal. They’re tucked into soft pink paper. He must have gone to a florist to get these. They’re a far cry from grocery store flowers, which I would have happily accepted.
“And if I said I’m too busy to go to lunch?” I tease.
It’s only been a few days since our first kiss, but Brock hasn’t wasted any time in making changes.
He put up a job advertisement for a junior agent position.
Marie has been sorting through them, and Brock plans on asking the guys for help with the process once he makes the time to talk things through with them.
I haven’t pushed him–well, not too much–but have let him take things at the pace he needs.
The hardest part has been not talking to Sutton about us.
He said he wanted to talk to her about our relationship first, so I’m holding back until they do.
“I’d remind you that there are more important things than work.” He grins. “And if that didn’t change your mind, I’d throw you over my shoulder.”
Another squeak from Bethanne.
I laugh and shake my head. “I guess I can make time.”
He dips down and steals a quick kiss. “Good. How do tacos sound?”
“Perfect. Let me grab my bag and then we’ll go.”
I set the flowers on my desk and grab my purse off the nearby hook. Then I poke my head over the shared cubicle wall. Bethanne is staring at her computer, typing the word cute over and over again.
“Do you want me to bring you something back, Nosey?” I ask with a laugh.
Bethanne swerves in her chair, a blush on her cheeks. “I’d love some tacos,” she mumbles.
“I’ll get you your usual. Be back soon.”
“Take your time.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“You’re terrible,” I scold, but there’s laughter in my voice. I can’t help it, I’m so happy .
I turn to face Brock, who’s watching me with soft eyes.
He holds out his hand, and I take it. Our fingers interlock and we walk out of the office.
As soon as we round the corner of the building, he pulls me into his chest and dips me back for a breathtaking kiss.
When he pulls me back up, the world spins around us.
“You make me unbelievably happy,” he says.
I brush my nose against his. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
He kisses me again, softer this time, but no less intoxicating. Cars fly by. Horns honk. People chatter. But all of it fades away as I sink into his embrace. This– this is the spark I’ve been searching for.