“I have a name for it.” Achilles scrubbed a hand over his hair, then slid it in his pants pocket. “Farrell Brothers Incorporated.”
Cain and Kenan stared at him. Then slow, wide smiles lit both of their faces.
“I love it.” Cain nodded.
“It’s fucking perfect,” Kenan agreed. “Now you really have to drink up, because we have to toast to Farrell Brothers Inc.”
Achilles lifted the cup—still didn’t know what he was drinking—to his mouth when movement from the doorway caught his eye. He glanced up...and froze.
Mycah.
It’d been four days since she’d left his apartment, and fuck, it might as well as have been four months. Four years.
Or four minutes.
He missed her.
Like an amputated limb, she was gone—he knew she was gone—but he felt her phantom presence in the living room where they’d made love, in the bedroom where he’d told her about his past, in the kitchen where he’d fed her.
Because they were on different floors at work, it’d been easy to avoid her, and he hadn’t attended the press conference. Hadn’t watched it, either. As it was, when she’d emailed him the date of the doctor’s appointment three weeks from now, he would need every day of that time to prepare himself to see her.
He hadn’t been ready for four days.
God, she was beautiful.
In another one of those pantsuits that were both professional and sexy as hell. What would she wear when she started showing? Excitement and greed spiked inside his chest, low in his gut, because dammit, he wanted to know. Wanted to be there with her in the mornings when she dressed, to caress and hold her belly, wait for their baby’s movements under his palm.
But she didn’t want that.
At least not with him.
He drew back, mentally and physically.
Glancing around, he noted the looks thrown her way and heard an undercurrent of whispers. His gut tightened, and he remembered her worry about the hit to her reputation. Anger ignited within him. Yes, she’d broken his heart, but damn if she deserved this.
“Mycah.” He held up a hand, waved her inside. “Come on in. Grab a plate and something to drink.”
Relief flashed across her face, and she briefly smiled, stepping into the office. He spied the two gift boxes, one medium-sized and the other smaller, she carried as she neared, and his gaze flickered from the packages to her.
“I’m sorry to just drop in without...”
“Mycah, you don’t need to apologize,” he murmured. “Everyone’s welcome.”
“Right.” An emotion that could’ve been hurt flickered in her eyes, but before he could ascertain it, she handed him the larger gift box. “For your office, and a belated gift for your new company.”
Setting his cup down behind him, he accepted the present. For several seconds, he just held it, staring down at the gaily wrapped package. Finally, he lifted the top and pushed aside the tissue paper, revealing a framed picture.
No, concept art.
From his video game.
Speechless, the bottom part of the box dropped from his hand, unnoticed.
It wasn’t one of the images he’d shown her, but something completely original that she must’ve had commissioned.
She’d plucked the vision straight out of his head. His teenage hero, wearing a hoodie, jeans and sneakers and bearing a shield and sword, stood on an inner-city street, the landscape of old buildings, cracked streets and dim shadows surrounding him. And in the distance, a dark castle, thick forest and maze.
He wrenched his gaze from the framed art to the woman in front of him.
