41. Ford
FORD
Holy fuck. Maeve looks so damn stunning.
She always looks beautiful, obviously—that’s nothing new. But seeing her in this dress, with the way the rich fabric catches the light and hugs every generous curve, the bold emerald color making her skin glow… it’s something else entirely.
I know she wouldn’t have dared wear something this striking just a few weeks ago.
Maeve usually sticks to soft pastels or safe neutrals—colors that are pretty but don’t demand attention, that don’t hit you like a bolt of lightning.
That’s appropriate for an executive assistant, but Maeve should understand her own worth by now.
She should know she can command any room she enters, not fade into the background.
Of course, when she’s dressed like this, it makes keeping my hands off her exponentially harder.
It’s always a struggle to maintain control around her, but right now especially.
She looks so damn gorgeous, and there’s something different about her confidence tonight—she seems more self-assured and carefree, bantering easily with Hayden and Gabriel as we all settle into the restaurant.
It honestly reminds me of how natural our dynamic is at the office—how effortlessly she matches our energy while keeping all of us focused and productive.
I hadn’t realized that somewhere along the way, the deep camaraderie and connection I share with Hayden and Gabriel had expanded to include Maeve too.
It’s easy, far too easy, to imagine this continuing indefinitely—every night feeling exactly like this.
Now that’s a dangerous line of thinking.
I shove those thoughts aside and focus on the present moment: getting to share this incredible woman with my two closest friends.
The restaurant we’ve chosen is the finest establishment in town, although admittedly that’s not saying much in a place this size.
The other dining options are mostly small family-owned places with delicious comfort food but nothing approaching elegant.
This place is where locals come to impress clients or propose marriage, unless they’re willing to make the drive all the way to Denver.
The restaurant occupies the entire top floor, offering panoramic views of the charming downtown area—the same district where we shopped earlier, with its collection of beautifully preserved historic buildings housing independent boutiques.
I love the character of this place. We’re seated at one of the premium tables right by the floor-to-ceiling windows, giving us an unobstructed view of the twinkling lights below.
Maeve’s eyes go wide as she scans the menu, clearly taking in every detail. The rest of us quickly decide what we want, but she’s still reading intently. She seems delighted but also slightly overwhelmed, absorbing the entire experience.
“Are you sure you’ve actually been to a restaurant before?” Hayden asks with mock concern.
“You know, I’m starting to wonder,” Maeve replies, still studying the menu. “Considering every time I tried to go out to eat, you would inevitably interrupt my plans.”
“It’s not my fault there was always urgent work to handle. You should have known better than to schedule personal time.”
“The entire menu is exceptional,” Gabriel assures her warmly. “You truly can’t go wrong with any choice.”
“I’m sure of that,” Maeve says with a laugh, although there’s something wistful in her tone. “But come on, I’m never going to eat somewhere this elegant again. Let me take my time and really savor the decision.”
Her words are delivered lightly, but the casual certainty behind them hits me like a physical blow to the chest. That assumption doesn’t sit right with me—this idea that tonight represents the pinnacle of fine dining she’ll ever experience.
There are restaurants far more exclusive than this lovely establishment, and unlike most people in my social circle who chase Michelin stars for bragging rights, Maeve would genuinely appreciate the artistry.
She’s exactly the kind of diner every chef dreams of serving.
She deserves those experiences. And I’d love to be the one to give them to her.
It would be effortless for me—enjoyable, actually, and a perfect excuse to step away from the office occasionally.
God knows Hayden, Gabriel and I could all use improvement in the work-life balance department.
The thought of watching her face light up as she discovers new flavors and techniques…
“Okay.” Maeve closes her menu decisively and looks up as our server approaches. “I’m ready now.”
She puts in her order, and the rest of us do the same. We sip wine while we wait for the food to be brought out, and when it arrives, it exceeds even my high expectations. Maeve looks radiant with joy as she eats, and we all insist she taste portions of our dishes as well.
“Is there anything else I should know about?” she teases us between bites. “Any other major charitable organizations you’re secretly supporting? Are you actually superheroes in your spare time? Should I be calling you Batman?”
We all chuckle at that. “We do have several projects where we’re more hands-on, that we prefer to keep private,” Gabriel admits. “It’s refreshing to step away from our public personas sometimes. To go places where people don’t recognize us and make a genuine difference.”
“For Thanksgiving, there’s a soup kitchen we support year-round, and we spend the entire holiday working the serving line,” I add.
“It’s crucial to create change on a systemic level,” Hayden explains. “That’s how you help the most people. But we also believe each of us needs to contribute on an individual scale too. Not just through funding programs, but by actually showing up and doing the work. It keeps us grounded.”
“Helps keep us from losing touch with reality,” Gabriel adds.
Maeve chuckles, shaking her head. “I’m not sure I’d describe any of you as particularly grounded,” she says with obvious affection. “You three have perfected the art of being the most intimidating executives I’ve ever encountered, and don’t pretend it’s not at least partially genuine.”
“It is partially genuine,” I admit without shame. “But it’s not the complete picture of who we are.”
“It’s just the side you choose to show most people,” Maeve observes astutely.
“Oh, trust me, we had to keep that side hidden from you,” Gabriel teases with a warm smile.
“You’re sweet and kind, Maeve, but you also keep all three of us in line.
Don’t pretend you’re not ambitious and fierce in your own right, petit oiseau doux .
You may be soft in some ways, but you’re a force of nature when you need to be. ”
“And don’t act like you don’t love it,” Maeve fires back without missing a beat. “You enjoy having an assistant who isn’t afraid to challenge you when necessary.”
I can’t even attempt to deny that truth, and I know Hayden and Gabriel feel the same way.
Dinner is exquisite, followed by an equally impressive dessert course.
I have an admittedly massive sweet tooth—as I’m certain Maeve has noticed from all my successful raids on her homemade treats—and I’m thoroughly enjoying watching her savor her dessert without any trace of guilt or self-consciousness.
There’s something almost sensual about her obvious pleasure.
She’s chosen the decadent chocolate soufflé, and somehow a small smear of rich chocolate ends up at the corner of her mouth.
My cock responds immediately to the sight, twitching with interest. I have the overwhelming urge to lean over and lick it away, to taste the chocolate on her tongue and claim her mouth right here.
Hayden beats me to it, reaching over to swipe the chocolate away with his thumb before slowly sucking it clean, his heated gaze never leaving her face.
A memory flashes through my mind of the night I walked in on Maeve and Hayden, and it hits me in a rush that I want to see it again, but with Gabriel included this time.
I raise my hand to signal our server. When he approaches, I quietly ask to speak with the owner. Samuel knows me, knows all three of us, actually. We’ve been coming here for years.
Samuel comes over immediately, and I have a brief, discreet conversation with him. He nods in understanding, then moves to speak with his staff.
Fortunately, it’s late enough that most remaining diners are on dessert or just lingering over drinks.
I’d estimate about half the restaurant is simply chatting and enjoying nightcaps at this point.
The staff moves efficiently through the dining room, speaking quietly with each table and helping people package any remaining food.
I walk over to the bar and hand over my black card so Samuel can compensate all the displaced patrons and staff for the inconvenience. Once everyone has been properly taken care of, they begin to leave—first the guests, then the staff after ensuring everything is secure.
Maeve’s eyes grow wide as I return to our table, her gaze darting around the now-empty restaurant in complete bewilderment. Hayden and Gabriel watch me with sharp assessment. They know I’m planning something, but they haven’t figured out exactly what yet.
“What just happened?” Maeve asks, her brows furrowing. “What did you do?”
“I bought out the restaurant for the rest of the evening,” I reply calmly. “I made sure everyone was generously compensated so no one could complain about their night being cut short. Including all the other diners.”
“But why would you…” She trails off, confusion clear in her beautiful eyes.
I let a slow, hungry smile spread across my face as I answer.
“Because I want to watch my two best friends fuck my wife.”