Chapter 25 Luke
LUKE
In the weeks leading up to the competition, Meg was working nonstop.
I'd never seen anyone as dedicated as she was. Not even I was like this. She’d earned the respect of the whole team.
We all practically had to chase her out of the office, I more than anyone else.
Between all this, she’d also helped me finalize everything for Paisley’s treehouse.
Her birthday party was last Saturday, and she’d been thrilled with the gift.
Meg took the day off to celebrate with us but then spent the entire Sunday working.
I had a good plan to help her relax. I believed in hard work, but I was also a strong believer in balance. And right now, my woman was heading straight to burnout. I wasn't going to allow it.
On Friday evening, one week after Paisley’s birthday, she and I were one of the last ones at the office. I planned to throw her over my shoulder and take her away from here if need be.
At seven o’clock, Jonathan poked his head into my office. “Boss, I’m leaving. Are you coming too?”
“No, I’ve still got a few things to do.”
Jonathan winked at me. Winked. I cocked a brow at him.
“I’m out. Have a great weekend,” he said.
“You too.”
I listened intently until I heard the elevator doors. Then the entire office was completely silent. Turning off my computer, I stood up, heading straight to Megan.
She was in the same spot as usual, by the window. The only light was coming from her screen. Tomorrow was the deadline for sending the digital presentation to the committee. She also had to drop off the physical model at a designated address.
“Hey, beautiful,” I said.
She startled, looking over her shoulder. “I thought I was the last one here.”
“There’s no one else except us.”
I walked to her, eyeing her raised shoulders. She was tense. I put my hands on the sides of her neck, pressing my fingers in her flesh.
She gasped. “Oh, this is good.”
I brought my mouth to her ear. “I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and take you home. Just so you know.”
She laughed throatily. “You’re welcome to do that, but I’m going to work on the presentation at home too. And the physical model.”
“Yeah, but I get to take care of you in between, so it’s still better than staying here.”
She glanced at me sideways, sighing. “You’re amazing.”
Turning to look at the computer, she said, “Okay. Let’s go.”
At home, she stayed up late, obsessing over the physical architectural model.
On Saturday morning, I woke up with a plan, then immediately realized I couldn't put it into action because Meg wasn't next to me.
She was an early riser, but it was 7:00 a.m. This was far too early for her getting up on a weekend, but today she had to take the physical architectural model to the committee.
The competition was in two weeks, but the committee wanted time to decide and review everything.
I only put on jeans, commando and without a shirt, then walked into the living room. She was lying on her belly on the floor, hovering over the physical model. She was gluing bits of fake grass near the front door.
"Megan, did you sleep at all?"
She looked up at me, yawning. "I tried, but then in the middle of the night, I got an idea, and I came back here to do it. But now I'm done.” She sat up on her ass, looking at her work.
“Good, because I've got plans today.”
She glanced up. I extended a hand, helping her to her feet. She looked damn tired. Her ponytail had fallen apart. She had dark circles under her eyes and was pale.
"What plans? I'm sorry if I forgot them. I'm a bit spaced out."
“I’m going to help you relax, and you are going to enjoy it and not put up a fight.”
She smiled shyly at me. I liked the way she looked at me—like she trusted me with anything.
"Are you going to tell me how you'll do that?"
“I'm going to start by cooking you breakfast.”
"Oh yes." She rubbed her stomach. “I'm here for the food and the show.”
"What show?”
“You’re wearing jeans and no shirt."
I leaned in, wiggling my eyebrows. “And I’m commando.”
The tips of her ears turned red. "You are?"
“Yes.”
“Just a heads-up, but this early in the morning, that qualifies as dirty talk. Besides, I don’t believe you.”
“Want to double-check? I know someone would be very happy.”
She half laughed, half snorted. “Why don’t you feed me first?”
“Your personal chef is at your command.”
We went to the kitchen, and I immediately put a pan on the stove. Grabbing some bacon, eggs, and cheese, I mixed up an omelet. Meg had made some coffee and was on her second cup in less than five minutes.
“What a great way to start a day,” she hummed.
“I agree. Are you hungry?”
“Not really. I'm so tired that I can't even feel the hunger. But my eyes aren't tired of the show, so you can keep at it.”
“The show!” I smirked. “I feel like a stripper.”
She grinned from ear to ear. “You’re my own personal stripper?”
“I can be.”
“I like you a lot today.”
“Just today?”
“Always. But you don’t offer to be my personal stripper every day.”
I finished the omelet quickly, separating it onto two plates. She ate just like that, sitting on the counter.
She dropped her head back. "Oh my God, this is delicious. Can I marry you?"
She clearly meant it as a joke, but something stirred inside me.
I wanted a future with this woman. I could see it unfold before my eyes.
This had never happened before, not even with Cammy.
I'd wanted it to happen, I admitted, but it was more out of a desire to have a family, not because she was the one. I realized that now.
Meg was the one.
From the beginning, there was this chemistry, a pull that drew us together. From that first night in my bed, I knew she was special.
"What are you thinking?" she asked between bites. “You have an interesting look in your eyes.”
“I'll tell you that another time.”
I remembered the conversation after the girls’ night out vividly. I didn’t want to scare her away, talking about the future. She had the competition to focus on.
“Come on, let's take this to the committee's office.”
Her eyes widened. “You want to go with me?”
“That thing is huge. How were you going to carry it by yourself?”
“You’re right. I didn’t think about that.”
“Okay, then, let's go.”
She pointed at my chest. “You’re putting on a shirt, right? I only want you naked for me.”
I stepped closer, trapping her between myself and the wall. “I'm only yours, baby. All yours. Wait here. I'll put on a shirt.”
Even between the two of us, the thing was not easy to move around. It barely fit in the back of the car. "Why did they even make you do this on a Saturday?"
“They just assigned people based on the letter of their last name. People with P, R, and S are coming today. I hope I won't run into Carson.”
I narrowed my eyes. “We’ll deal with him if you do.”
“Oh, I don’t plan to deal at all. I’ll just ignore him.”
“I won’t. He hurt you.”
“Luke, please. The less we interact with him, the better. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I said grudgingly. Holding back wasn’t my strong suit, but I wanted her to feel at ease.
We arrived at the location twenty minutes later. It was all very well laid out. There were arrows from the entrance of the building to the room for model storage, which was on the second floor.
I was carrying the model, and Meg opened the doors. The drop-off room was huge, with at least seventy tables all labeled with the participant’s names. We found Meg's and immediately put it there.
"Why did they allow us to see the rest?" she asked, looking around nervously.
"At this point, it doesn't matter. It’s too late to change anything.
" Personally, I was not a fan of these 3D models. They weren’t easy to create, and they weren't detailed enough. I understood when a client wanted to see the concept, but at least we had an opportunity to explain what they couldn’t see.
But when professionals wanted these to judge a competition, I thought it was absurd.
"Are you happy?" I asked after I placed it on the table.
She moved her weight from one foot to the other, reaching out for the model and then pulling her hands back.
I laughed. "If you had glue, you'd still modify something, wouldn't you?" She was a perfectionist. I admired that about her.
“Yes."
"Come on, babe. Let's go." I put a hand on her back as we headed toward the door.
A guy came in, carrying a model as well.
Megan stood ramrod straight. "Carson."
I took my hand off her back, but I was sure he'd noticed it, because he smirked. I didn't like it.
"Megan, you're here. And you are?"
"Luke Maxwell,” I answered. “Her mentor."
"Right," he dragged out. He looked at her again. "Good luck."
"And good luck to you too."
We left the room immediately, and she was walking with quick steps. I could tell she was unnerved.
Once we were alone in the elevator, I focused on her.
"Talk to me, babe. What's on your mind?"
"Nothing." She sounded jumpy. Her shoulders dropped. "I think he suspects something. I mean, I can't really tell. He always smirks like that when he sees me."
"I wanted to punch that smirk off his face. Meg, what we’re doing isn’t against the rules.”
"I know that.” She sighed. “Let’s forget about him. He’s spoiled enough years of my life. I refuse to let him spoil this day."
We were silent on the drive home. When we reached my building’s garage, I took her hand, kissing it. “Now I've got free rein to take care of you all day."
She smiled. "Yes, you do."
"Do you want to sleep first?"
"When you promised to spoil me? Hell no. I can sleep afterward. Besides, I've got a lot of energy right now, though I don't know why."
I touched her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. "Babe, you've had four coffees. I debated stopping you, but you looked like you might throw the cup at me if I tried."
She burst out laughing. "I might have done that. I'm not sure. Sleep deprivation isn’t easy, okay?"
"Then let's start."
"What are we doing?" she asked.
"First, we’re going to the pool. They’ve finally repaired it."
"Oh, I've always wanted to."
"You're going to get an underwater massage," I said, taking off her clothes after we entered my condo, starting with her T-shirt.
"What are you doing?"
"You need to get out of these clothes to get into a bikini."
"That's right." She gasped when I ran my hands down the sides of her body, then pulled down her jeans. "Is this code for sexy time?"
"No, it's not. I'm just taking your clothes off."
“And then you're taking yours off, right, fulfilling my stripper fantasy?"
"Your wish is my command." I finished removing her jeans with ease and then started on my own. I only opened the top buttons of my shirt and then pulled it over my head. I liked the way she looked at me, like she couldn't get enough.
She took off her underwear as well. I sucked in a breath. Fuck. I wanted to sink to my knees and bury my tongue in her pussy, but I’d promised her something else for today. At least for now, I had to behave. It wasn't my strong suit, but I was going to try.
“I just remembered that I don’t have a bikini here,” she said.
"Benefits of a private pool?" I asked. "Skinny-dipping."
"That's right. I hadn’t thought about it. So many benefits, yes," she said, giggling. I liked that about my woman. She was game for anything.
We went up the stairs, and she walked in front of me, sashaying that gorgeous ass in front of my nose. When it was eye level, I kissed one cheek as she went up, and she giggled even more. It was good to hear her happy and laughing. She'd been far too tense these past few weeks.
The pool was pleasantly warm, so we went right in.
“This is perfect,” she murmured, sinking into the water up to her neck. “I can feel myself relaxing. And forgetting all about Carson.”
“Do you want to talk about him?”
She tipped her head to one side. “You know, it didn’t hurt at all seeing him today. I kept asking myself why I stayed with him for so many years.”
She seemed less vulnerable than the last time she spoke about him.
I went over to her, cupping her face. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
“No. Of course not. Unless you count that I daydream about walking all over him with really pointy shoes with sharp heels. I really, really want to do that.”
“Before, you said you were afraid of thinking that this, that we, can last.”
“You remember that?”
“Fuck yes. Are you still afraid?”
“I don’t want to be.”
It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but I wasn’t going to push. You couldn’t force feelings. I’d learned the hard way with Cammy. Some things needed time to heal, and Megan and I had plenty of time.
“I’ve always had trouble thinking about the future,” she murmured.
“Even when you were with your ex?”
She nodded. “I’m not exactly sure why. I think… I think it’s because I lost my parents so young, you know? I have so few memories of us as a family.”
“It’s understandable.”
She was frowning. Her whole expression had changed. I wanted to shift her focus and lift her mood, so I massaged her shoulders.
"Oh," she gasped. "You weren't joking. Underwater massage is different than the usual kind."
"You like it?"
"I love it."
"Good. I'm planning to do all the things you like today."
"That includes great food."
"I know. I'm on it, baby."
She turned around, looking at me with surprised eyes. “What do you mean?"
"I've got the whole day planned out. I ordered food from your favorite restaurant. I'm going to take care of you here in the pool until it arrives. And after lunch, I’ve got a lot more in store."