Sure, our lunch is over, and there’s no reason to take up a table. But sitting here with the two of them, chatting about random stuff and making each other laugh—it’s one of the breeziest, most relaxing Sundays I’ve had in a long damn time.
At least I get to go home with them.
“Let’s go,” I say.
We get to our feet, and Kennedy leads us to the door. Chase walks behind me, pressing his hand into the small of my back.
“Thank you,” he whispers in my ear.
Kennedy skips off to the truck.
I stop as Chase walks around me to hold the door. “For what?”
He doesn’t give me enough room to step outside without running against him. I don’t mind.
“Thanks for trying to talk some sense into her,” he says. “I appreciate it.”
“You know what I appreciate?”
“What’s that?”
The door swings shut behind us, and we head to the truck too. I dip my chin so no one can read my lips.
“I appreciate how freaking sore I am today,” I say softly. “You stretched me out.”
He growls and takes a step to the side, away from me. “Behave.”
I stop in front of his truck. “Or what?”
He watches me with hooded eyes.
“Or you’ll spank me?” I pout. “Oh, what a shame.”
“Get in the fucking truck before I bend you over that bench over there.”
I laugh, wishing I could kiss him but knowing I can’t. Then I climb in the truck, and off we go.
CHAPTER 23
Megan
The house is soquiet without anyone home.
I pitter-patter around the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee I have no business drinking in the afternoon. My sleep is interrupted enough by Chase or thoughts of Chase. I don’t need another element to get in the way of rest.
I grin.Not that I mind the recent disruptions.
My email pings. I sit at the table and pull up the message.
Dear Megan,
I’m circling back to our conversation from the end of last week. I sincerely hope you’ve given my offer consideration. The marketing department knows I’ve contacted you, and they’re just as excited about the prospect of having you back as I am.
Please feel free to ask questions and inquire about any hesitations. I’m here to assure you that Iyala is your home. We believe that, and we believe in you.
Best,
Dorothy Kaziwell
