37. Brooke
Chapter thirty-seven
Brooke
“Do you need me to roast your marshmallow for you?” I tease, shoving two white balls of sugar onto the ends of sticks as Marcus rearranges the fire to reveal more embers.
He smirks, taking a seat in his camping chair and scooting it closer to the one I’m sitting in. “Give me that.” He reaches for one of the sticks but kisses me before pulling it away.
I hold my marshmallow over the burning coal and look back at my boyfriend. “Thank you for this weekend. I love when it’s just the two of us.” It’s been three months since we got home from Connecticut and New York and our first full weekend off the grid.
“Of course, love. It’s just the first one. We’ll do this every month. There are some incredible resorts I want to take you to once it’s too cold to camp.” He sets his stick down, leaning it against the edge of the firepit, and I do the same.
I take his cue, joining him in his chair. Not caring that it’s probably not meant to hold both of us, I straddle him. It creaks but holds up, and he runs his hands up my thighs to my lower back to pull me closer. “I can’t wait. These past few months have been so crazy. We could both use the break.”
“I couldn’ t agree more.”
I feign shock with a gasp. “Marcus Cole, did you just admit to needing time off work?!”
He smirks. “Watch it, love. I’ll take it back.”
“You will not,” I say, looping my arms around his neck. “You love how things are now.”
“I do. I should be the one thanking you.” His thumbs rub against my skin under my Columbia jacket.
“Nora is great, isn’t she?” Nora is the new assistant he hired to help him with a lot of the paperwork for both his investments and the bar. It’s taken a huge amount of work off his plate.
“She’s not you, but yes. I’m very happy with her work.”
The entire first month after Emma and Charlotte’s product was featured on national television was insane. We hardly had time to do anything but secure production and shipping, finalize contracts with bars across the country, and figure out a system to track it all. On top of that, I still ran weekly Here for the B events and picked up shifts at the bar to help out temporarily since there was also a boost there from when Emma mentioned it on air.
After that, things started to slow enough that we could take the time to hire another bartender to help Lexy and Jess. It took me about a month after that to help Marcus find the right person to help him, so I could step away from that too.
“I’m sure she’s happy with you too. You are the best boss.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhmm. As long as I’m the only one receiving bonuses.”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and I grind my hips into him.
“Are you ready for next week?” He fends off my pass at him .
“Yes. I can’t stop looking at the website you made me. It’s so beautiful.”
“Fitting. For you. And your company.”
I grin. I can’t believe as of two o’clock this afternoon, I’m officially a business owner. Brooke’s Boxes . I put together custom boxes for all kinds of people. I started locally–and unofficially–creating ones for bridal parties and baby showers. I formulated a very detailed–possibly annoyingly so–questionnaire nailing down exactly the vibe of their recipient. No two boxes are the same, each filled with unique or personalized goodies designed to make someone feel extra loved. It’s been successful enough that I’m confident it can be profitable on a larger scale–especially since they are so much more personalized than anything currently on the market.
I didn’t need much money to start, but Marcus insisted on investing nonetheless, so I didn’t have to take out a small business loan. I have to admit, having a wealthy boyfriend who wants to use his money to improve the lives of people around him instead of showing off to them makes all the difference.
“I think we make a pretty good team.”
“Me too.”
He reaches around me, holding tight to my back so I don’t fall as he grabs the marshmallow sticks. With me still cozy on his lap, he holds both sticks together, roasting our treats as much as he can.
When they are a perfect golden, he pulls them between us, and we each pinch the hot gooey dessert from the stick. He blows on mine before I shove the whole thing in my mouth, grinning at him with sticky lips.
He does the same, chewing until he can swallow, then kisses me again. He bites into my lip, and I feel his tongue trail along some sticky residue. Pulling back, he says, “It’s absurd to me that I never made time for this before.”
“You didn’t have me before. And you’re stuck with me now, so get used to it.”
“Stuck with you or stuck to you?” he asks, gripping my hand in his and licking the rest of the marshmallow off of it.
“Both, if you’d like.” I grin, grinding into him again. This time he gives in.