Her phone buzzed with a text. Markus handed it to her. “Just in case it’s your kids,” he said.
At that little gesture, she melted. He was so thoughtful and unselfish. The barn was his if he wanted it.
“It’s just Justin,” she reported. He had texted:Your boudoir is ready. Get ready for reveal.
Justin had been giving her bedroom a makeover for the past week. She hadn’t been allowed to see it. Was it a sign? Markus between her thighs, her bedroom finally ready to inhabit after a reno…
“Markus—” she started to say. “I don’t know if I can do that thigh move.”
“It’s a classic for a reason, not that I want your thighs wrapped around another guy’s head, but you have strong legs. When it comes down to it, they’re more dangerous than your fists.”
“I just feel like I should shower before we practice that one. There’s this yoni oil that is supposed to make your crotch smell like candy.”
“Gabby!” he said. “This is combat. Do you think dudes are worried if their balls smell?”
Probably not.
“You have to imagine that I’m the bad guy in these exercises, take it one hundred percent seriously.” In a softer voice, he said, “And skip the oil.”
“Is this foreplay or training?” she blurted out. It was unclear.
He wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer, answering her question.
“Oh.” She relaxed in his arms. As their breath mingled, he ran his hands down her back in a way that was turning her into a pile of mindless goo. With her senses fully obliterated by his magnetism, she brought her lips to his and let her eyelids flutter shut.
It had been a month of absolute torture, holding Markus at arm’s length, but she’d been firm with her boundaries, and he’d respected that she needed some time. He was waiting.
Waswaiting. Past tense.
He let out a sigh and kissed her back softly. Not needy or demanding, just perfect. He broke the kiss, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “Are you ready to upgrade our coffee date to an actual date?”
Could she do it all? Fully kissed with swollen lips and a need that she couldn’t ignore, it seemed possible. She said, “Yes, let’s have dinner.” But she still needed that boundary. It’s not like she had time for a real relationship. “Maybe we can call it a working dinner?”
Markus rubbed the back of his neck. “I want to respect your boundaries, but I would actually like to date.”
Gabby tensed up. This was so delicate. She wanted Markus, but she couldn’t. Could she? “We could date, if we keep it casual.”
Markus looked disappointed. “Are we really that casual after what we’ve been through together?”
Gabby thought on it. She looked at him. He was right. They weren’t totally casual, but there’s no way they could be totally serious. “What if…” she said thoughtfully, summoning all the power of the cool badass spy she almost was. “What if you were my work wife?”
“Did you just ask me to be your work wife?” Markus smiled, but there was an edge of sadness in it.
“We won’t be regular work wives. More like work wives with benefits.”
“Okay.” He didn’t look totally convinced, but she’d make him see. This could work.
Gabby smiled brightly and pulled up the calendar on her phone. “All right, work wife, I gotta get home, but I’m putting you,” she said with a flirtatious lilt, “on my calendar. How about the Friday after next?”
“Really?” He looked skeptical, probably because he didn’t think she’d follow through.
She gave him a sexy nod. “Oh yeah, we’re going to do it.” In the calendar event, she tapped out the words,Dinner with Work Wife.
Change her call sign to Maverick, because there was a new Top Gun in town.
Gabby glanced at her watch. “Shit. I was supposed to be home already.” Wednesday was spaghetti night and the only night without any activities. She and the kids ate spaghetti, watched a show, and bonded. She slipped on some tennis shoes and collected her things.
“What are you doing tonight?” she asked Markus.
