She definitely recognizes me though, a warm smile spreading across her face.
Lifting the bouquet of blue roses I picked up a few blocks from here, I chuckle at my own foolish thoughts. Of course Billie doesn’t need another two dozen roses to go with the endless bouquets she already has.
“I’m looking for Billie. This morning, before she left home, she explained where her new office was located …” I trail off, gazing around at various wooden doors. “But since there aren’t any door plaques in here either, I’m a bit lost.”
Holding out a confident hand, she strides toward me. “Caroline Peach. Recently appointed senior partner. I’ve heard so much about you, Emmett.”
I take her hand and try not to wince when she squeezes my fingers in a vise grip.
Jesus, lawyers are scary people.
When she drops my hand and points toward a door on the right, I flex my fingers, checking all extremities are still attached.
“The workman who was supposed to be fitting the plaques thismorning called ahead of time to say that he’d be running a little behind schedule. He got caught in traffic while dropping his granddaughter off at school or something.” She rolls her eyes, doubtful that it’s a genuine excuse for his tardiness, and I just smile at her.
“The traffic around Belltown is insane today, and my daughter, Blake, just started at a new school across the other side of town.”
Her eyes flare wide as she goes to apologize for her cynicism.
I hold up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Scott has never been the best timekeeper, and I’ll make sure to kick his ass for the both of us when he finally shows up.” I shake my head and tut, pretending like I’m mad about it. “No door plaques on office opening day. You just can’t get the staff these days, can you?”
“Are you going to stand there all day with those roses or come say hi before my nine o’clock meeting?”
Wearing a fitted blue suit dress and matching heels, Billie stands in the doorway to a panoramic office I’ve seen the plans for more times than I can count, looking even more beautiful than when I first opened my eyes at five a.m.
With a parting smile for Caroline, I head toward my wife, arm outstretched so she can take the roses.
She pulls them into her chest and steps to one side so I can enter before she closes the door behind us.
Her office—if you can even describe it as that since it probably has its own point of gravity, as it’s that large—is even more spectacular than I expected. Pretty much every place of interest Seattle has to offer can be seen from here, Billie’s desk and meeting area in a prime position to take in the sights.
“What do you think, Em? Do you like it?”
I watch my wife arrange the flowers in the center of her meeting table, and it’s like I’m transported to when I caught her dancing around the kitchen in her new Brooklyn apartment, baby Blake clutched to her chest.
Billie’s smile is as broad now as it was back then, a blush ofpride accentuating the freckles across her cheekbones. Her rose gold bracelet catches the sunlight and love floods my insides. She’s worn it each day. Even on our wedding day.
“Come here,” I say, flipping my hands as I prop myself against her desk.
She saunters toward me, and my mouth runs dry.
Christ.When the fuck did I get so damn lucky? Married for over a decade, and I’m still insatiable for more of everything with—and from—this woman.
My hands land on her hips, and she steps between my parted thighs.
“How does it feel to rule the world, Mama?”
Luscious waves of red frame her stunning face, and I reach up and run my fingers through her hair, eventually resting my palm at the back of her head so I can pull her in for a kiss.
“Pretty damn good,” she whispers against my lips, more pink staining her cheeks.
I’d like to think that her coy response is down to the way my hand travels up the inside of her right thigh, fingers brushing against my favorite lacy thong. And while that may be partially responsible, there’s no denying that my girl hasn’t changed an inch since the day I set eyes on her in Scott and Freya’s living room.
I think, deep down, that she’s aware of the enormity of her achievements—making managing partner at thirty-two years old is fucking extraordinary, even if she’d never let it go to her head.
When I slide my fingers through her wet pussy, her body goes limp in my grasp, small breaths leaving through parted lips that I immediately want to cover again with my own.
“Shouldn’t you be meeting up with Jessie Callaghan right about now? I thought you had coaching things to discuss.”
