Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
marlowe
O ver the next three days , I find myself hyperaware of Gunner’s presence from the moment he arrives home until he leaves for work again. I don’t have to see him walk into a room—I can just tell by the way my body tingles that he’s somewhere near. Every time our eyes meet over a cup of coffee, my heart does a flutter flip. If we’re not alone and he just happens to brush up against me, I have to bite my inner cheek to keep from moaning. Even picking up his dry cleaning feels like an intimate act performed by a girlfriend rather than the help.
But I am the help, and I can’t afford to forget that. Despite his talent for giving me soul-shattering orgasms, despite the way he confided in me and claimed me as his, despite the fact that I can’t get him out of my head—despite all these things—I’d be crazy to let myself believe I could ever have something real with Gunner. He’s a billionaire, so far out of my league he might as well reside in another galaxy.
There’s a reason I felt so out of place at his lavish dinner party. I was like a fish out of water among his elite circle of friends, all those expensively garbed men and women who’d looked right through me as I served them champagne. No matter what Gunner says or expects of me, I don’t belong in his world. I never will.
The gloomy thought stays with me as I finish running his errands on Thursday and drive back to the estate. A dozen groundskeepers are hard at work mowing the lawn, weeding flower beds, and pruning hedges and trees. When I pull up in front of the house, Mrs. Calder stands outside talking to the gardener. They wave at me and I wave back.
As I turn off the engine, Mr. Leland comes out to retrieve Gunner’s dry cleaning from the backseat. I follow him inside and head upstairs to my room.
Walking through the door, I stop short at the sight of my cat sitting on the bed fastidiously licking her paws.
I gasp in shock. “ Sansa! ”
She hops down and races over to me, her tail waving high in the air. I scoop her up and hug her close, laughing joyously when she rubs her whiskered face against mine.
“How on earth did you get here?” I exclaim.
“Well, obviously, she teleported.”
I whirl around, my jaw dropping when Quinn emerges from her hiding spot and yells, “Surprise!”
“Oh, my God!”
We rush into each other’s arms and hug, squishing Sansa between us until she yowls in protest and leaps down from my arms.
“Sorry, sweet baby,” I tell her with a laugh before grabbing Quinn’s hands. “How long have you been here?”
“About half an hour.” She grins. “When I got home from work, your boss’s driver was waiting for me. He’s cute, by the way. Is he single?”
“Trace? No, he has a girlfriend.”
“Damn.” Quinn snaps her fingers.
I laugh. “Back to what you were saying.”
“Right. Where was I? Oh, yeah, he ambushed me in the parking lot?—”
“Ambushed?”
“I mean, he’s big and kind of scary looking. Getting approached by a guy like that can be sort of intimidating. Plus he was strapped. He’s obviously more than just a driver.”
“You’re right. He’s also my boss’s bodyguard.” When Quinn looks at me wide-eyed, I shrug. “Gunner is a billionaire CEO with lucrative government contracts. That makes him a prime target for kidnappers and terrorists. Trace is ex Special Forces, and he only drives Gunner around in bulletproof vehicles.”
“Wow.” Quinn shakes her head, looking fascinated. “The world you inhabit now . . .”
“Surreal, right? I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.” I redirect our conversation back to the original topic. “So Trace approached you in the parking lot . . .”
“Right, right. As I was saying, he introduced himself and said he’d been instructed to pick up Sansa and bring her to you. I was skeptical because you told me your boss doesn’t allow pets. I wanted to call you to see if Trace’s story checked out, but he told me Mr. Ransom wanted to surprise you.”
“Really?” I get a little lump in my throat as I watch Sansa roam around the room, making sure the accommodations are up to standard.
“Anyway,” Quinn continues, “I wasn’t about to hand Sansa over to a complete stranger without knowing more details. So I told Trace to get his boss on the phone?—”
“You didn’t!”
“She did,” a deep voice confirms. “Pulled me out of an important product development meeting.”
I turn quickly to see Gunner leaning against the doorway. He’s wearing a different suit from that morning. This one is charcoal, and the first two buttons of his black shirt are undone.
I stare at him, my whole body flooding with warmth. Because he looks scrumptious, and he just gave me the most unexpected and precious gift.
“You didn’t tell me you were letting Sansa move in,” I say softly.
“That would have ruined the surprise.” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Even after we spoke on the phone, Quinn insisted on accompanying Sansa to the house just to make sure she wasn’t being catnapped.”
Quinn shrugs and grins at me. “Sansa’s your baby and you entrusted her to my care. I knew you’d never forgive me if something happened to her.”
“You’re right,” I say with a grin. “Thank you for being such a vigilant protector.”
She does a little curtsy. “’Tis nothing, milady.”
Gunner chuckles as he walks up behind me. All the hair on my body stands on end, and it’s all I can do not to shiver.
“We have to catch up,” I tell Quinn. “Can you stay for dinner?”
Her eyes twinkle. “Actually, your boss was kind enough to invite me to stay for a sleepover. Trace will drop me off at work in the morning.”
“Awesome.” I beam at Gunner, and he winks.
Sansa skulks over to sniff at his pants leg and blink up at him. He stares back down at her, one eyebrow cocked in challenge.
With an indignant swish of her tail, Sansa stalks off to continue exploring her new home.
I smile ruefully at Gunner. “She was a stray, so she’s still leery of strangers. Give her time to warm up to you.”
“Or we can just avoid each other,” he proposes dryly. “That works for me, too.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” I say, laughing. “I want you and Sansa to be friends. It’ll happen, don’t worry.”
“Do I look worried?”
“Not particularly.” I grin.
Lips twitching, he flicks his wrist to check his watch. “I have a board of trustees meeting, so I’d better get going.”
I smile at him. “Thank you for this. I know you’re not a cat person, but having Sansa here means the world to me.”
His gaze softens. He strokes a gentle palm down my hair, and my heart goes all fluttery.
As he stares at my lips, I can tell he wants to kiss me. Even though I want him to, I know he won’t. Not in front of Quinn, which is probably wise since I haven’t told her about our changed relationship status.
He touches my cheek and winks, then smiles at Quinn. “Make yourself at home.”
“Will do,” she gushes. “Thanks for letting me stay over with my bestie.”
“Anytime.” Giving me one last warm look, Gunner saunters out the door.
Quinn barely waits two seconds before squealing breathlessly, “Oh, my God! He’s so fucking hot!”
I grin as she grabs my hands, jumping up and down before tugging me over to the bed where we flop backward, laughing like teenagers.
Quinn pushes herself up on one elbow and sweeps an amazed look around. “Holy shit, Mar. This place is absolutely phenomenal. It looks even more incredible than the pictures I saw in Architectural Digest .”
“I know. I’m still getting used to it.”
“No shit. You’re living like a freaking princess!”
I snort-laugh. “How many princesses do you know who scrub toilets and mop floors all day?”
“Point taken.” Quinn flops back down and grins at the high ceiling. “I can’t get over how sexy Gunner is. I didn’t think it was possible, but he’s even yummier in person.” She giggles. “And how adorable was that little standoff between him and Sansa? He’s gonna have her eating out of the palm of his hand in no time.”
“I hope so. I’d hate for him to send her packing.”
“And risk upsetting you? No way.”
I turn my head to look at Quinn. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play innocent with me.” She grins wickedly. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you? Don’t even try to deny it,” she warns before I can open my mouth. “The last time I saw you, you were bitching about him cockblocking your date and forcing you to work overtime. You ranted about him all weekend and even applied for a new job. So imagine my shock when he sent his driver to pick up Sansa today. You told me he hates cats, so why would he suddenly reverse his no-pet policy? I figured something must’ve changed between you two, but I wasn’t completely sure until I saw you together. The way he looked at you and stroked your hair totally sealed the deal.”
I blush, biting my lip. “Things have gotten . . . interesting between us.”
“How interesting?”
“Ummm . . .”
Quinn sits up, her eyes gleaming. “Spill it.”
So I do. I tell her about our late night kitchen interlude, which led to a record-breaking number of orgasms. I tell her about his mother’s surprise visit and the ugly fight we had afterward. I tell her about my disastrous date with Dawson, a mistake I rectified by seducing Gunner in the shower.
I lose count of how many times she squeals during my story. Though I keep the intimate details to a minimum, I provide just enough to send her into an excited frenzy of fanning herself and chanting “ Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! ”
When I’m done, she crows triumphantly, “See? You and Dawson were never meant to be!”
I snort. “ That’s an understatement.”
She laughs, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “You lucky bitch, having mind-blowing sex with your hot billionaire boss. No wonder your skin practically melted off your bones when he walked into the room.”
My face warms. “You noticed that?”
“Hell, yeah.” A salacious grin curves her lips. “Does he have a big dick? I bet he does.”
“Quinn!”
She howls with wicked laughter.
I shake my head at her, cheeks burning. “I might have to rethink this sleepover.”
“No! I promise I’ll be good!”
“You better be.” I grin.
Quinn blows her lavender hair out of her eyes and props her chin on her fist, studying me with a sober expression. “So what happens now?”
“You mean now that we’ve crossed the line between boss and employee?” I shake my head helplessly and sigh. “I don’t know.”
“What do you want to happen?”
I swallow, my throat suddenly tight. “I don’t want to want anything,” I confess, feeling vulnerable and not liking it. “I mean, he’s my boss. And he’s gorgeous and obscenely rich and can have any woman he wants . . . .” I trail off, running out of words. Because, really, what else is there to say?
“He might be completely unattainable. Most billionaires are,” Quinn quietly concedes. “But this particular billionaire just went out of his way to do something nice for you because he wanted to make you happy. That’s no small gesture, Marlowe.”
Something like hope stirs in my chest, as faint as a butterfly’s wing. “Maybe,” I whisper.
Quinn falls silent, watching me almost sympathetically.
“Anyway.” I roll onto my side to face her, resting on my elbow. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you?”
“Not much. Well, unless you count what happened on Saturday.”
I eye her curiously. “What happened on Saturday?”
A wicked spark lights her eyes. “I slept with the neighbor.”
“Um, what?”
“I had sex with the neighbor.”
“Seriously?” I gape at her. “Which one?”
She hesitates, biting her lip. “The indie musician.”
My mouth drops open. “The grungy stoner who looks like he never showers? The caveman who barely grunts a hello whenever we pass him in the hallway? That guy?”
Quinn grins. “Yup.”
“Oh, my God!” I shriek in disbelief.
She bursts out laughing.
“How?” I demand, sitting up on my knees. “How the hell did that even happen? I mean, is that dude even capable of holding a conversation?”
Quinn leers. “He was capable enough to talk me out of my panties.”
I slap my hands over my face and groan.
She cackles at my reaction. “Believe me, I had no intention of sleeping with him when I knocked on his door that day. I got some of his mail by mistake— again —so I went to his apartment to give him his stuff. The last time it happened, he snatched the mail out of my hand and slammed the door in my face. But this time he invited me in for a beer. He had his guitar out and was working on new music. Being a polite guest, I asked him to play something for me. The song wasn’t that great, but the way his greasy hair flopped over his eyes just did something to me. One minute I was clapping and asking for an encore, the next minute we were making out on his smelly couch.”
I wrinkle my nose. “His couch is smelly?”
“And sticky.”
“Eww,” I groan, covering my face again. “That’s so fucking gross.”
“I know,” Quinn agrees, giggling.
I peek out at her from between my fingers. “Was the sex good at least?”
“It was great. I came so hard I saw stars.” She purses her lips thoughtfully. “Or maybe I was just high from all the weed smoke in the air. His freaking apartment is one big hothouse.”
We look at each other for a second and then burst into laughter, clutching our sides.
As our mirth dies down, we wipe tears from our eyes and share a lopsided grin.
“Enough about my sexploits.” Quinn rubs her hands together. “You have to give me the grand tour of this palace. And the older lady—Mrs. Calder? She said we can relax in the sauna after dinner. This place has a freaking sauna? ”
I grin. “There’s a whole spa, gym and pool on the first floor. Every bathroom has a bidet, the kitchen is to die for, and just wait till you taste Gustav’s cooking.”
Quinn beams with glee.
My grin softens. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” Quinn whoops excitedly. “Let the epic sleepover begin!”