Page 101 of Hot for the Boss

“We needed a place to live.”

“But you picked the one I chose, even though it wasn’t the best investment of all the properties you saw.”

“I did.”

“You chose the non-logical place simply to make me happy. I know how major that is for you, Evan. Thank you. I love it!” She brushes a kiss across my lips. “I love you.”

Her response is everything I’d hoped. “You’re welcome. You can refurnish anything you want, however you want. We’ll be living here permanently in just over three weeks, then you can redecorate and⁠—”

“I’ll have plenty of time to set up the perfect nursery.”

My smile turns down. Her words jolt me with anxiousness. Fear. Will she purchase a bunch of items meant to welcome and care for a new baby that I’ll again have to cancel and return because fate stole my wife and child from me?

I can’t think that. I can’t be that unfortunate twice. Nia will be fine. She’ll have a baby—our baby—and we’ll raise him or her together. I refuse to accept any other possible future.

She squeals again, grabs my hand, and tries to drag me toward the door. “Let’s go inside.”

“One minute.”

I grab all the stuff out of the trunk and lug it up to the front porch. Harlow, bless her, set up everything to turn our master bedroom into the perfect honeymoon suite. I didn’t give her much in the way of instruction, just asked her to make it romantic and conducive to hours of pleasure. She gave me a wink and assured me she’d take care of it.

Beside me, Nia opens the door in excitement. Before she can step over the threshold, I ease the bags I’m carrying down on the porch step and reach for my bride.

“You don’t get to walk inside. Tradition.”

I’m more than delighted to pick her up, fold her against my chest, and carry her over the threshold. She slides an arm around my neck and cuddles closer. Instead of looking around her new house, she sees only me. The love shining from her eyes nearly blinds me.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Her smile widens. “I want you to do more than kiss me.”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Cook.”

Without wasting a second, I hustle her toward the bedroom. In the doorway, I almost stop short because I don’t recognize the place. Harlow has managed to shroud the huge mahogany tester bed in gauzy white drapes. New white bedcovers and pillows in watery shades of blue add to the romantic feel. Candles provide a soft glow all around. A second glance tells me they’re all battery operated, but the effect is still idyllic. Sultry scents of vanilla, jasmine, and sea salt blend in the air. The overhead fan sways lazily, but the fireplace is cracking and jumping merrily for my wife. Outside the open double doors, I see the low lights surrounding the patio and the pool, then the shift of the ocean beyond, visible under the moonlight.

I’m going to share all of this—and the rest of my life—with Nia.

I set her on her feet. “Wait here.”

She nods slowly, taking the place in. “Wow.”

Grinning stupidly, I jog back to retrieve the rest of our things, then haul them into the bedroom. Shoving the suitcase to one side—I’m hoping we won’t need clothes until we fly back to Seattle on Monday night—I grip the sparkling cider by its neck, find the two plastic glasses, and open the bottle.

The cork pops free, and I manage to contain the overspill into a glass just before I pour us each a few sips. I hand her one and hold it up.

She joins suit. “What are we toasting? Us?”

I nod. “You know I’m not good with words or sentiments. And today, I’ve got so many things running through my head.” Not to mention clogging my throat. “Now that we’re married and starting our lives together, it all seems so big. No, sharp. That’s not exactly it, either. More like soft but important. I can’t put it into words…”

“Poignant? Emotional?”

Those are words that have barely been in my vocabulary before now. I was aware of their meaning in an academic way before Nia. “Yes. That’s what I mean. We’ve had an…interesting road to get here.”

“By interesting, do you mean the fact you failed to notice I’m female for years?”

“Yes,” I admit sheepishly, then frown. “Wait. Are you saying you noticed me as a man before that night at the BBB Revue?”

Nia rolls her eyes. “Evan, of course. I was professional, not blind. I would have never acted on my attraction, especially while you were married to Becca. But…I always wondered what you’d be like if you turned all that considerable focus and attention to detail on me.” Then she smiles. “Besides, I’m a sucker for green eyes.”