“I think I still need to make at least one more questionable decision.”
She raised an eyebrow at me, humor twinkling in her eyes. “You’ve made several. I’d rather not lose you to one only weeks after marrying you.”
When she lifted a hand to my hair and stroked her fingers through it, I groaned and relented immediately. “Fine. No jumping.”
“Good husband,” she teased. “No more concussions for you.”
I leaned over to kiss her. For a second, I let myself think about all the choices I’d made, those that had gone sideways, those had had burned bridges or built them, and every decision I’d ever made that had led me here.
And honestly, as reckless and irresponsible as some of them had been, I didn’t regret a single thing. Not if it meant I’d ended up on this couch, with my wife, with a house to renovate and a future to plan. Together.
EPILOGUE
JACQUELINE
Jesse Westwood loved my office. He didn’t tolerate it or humor me by being here. He actually, trulylovedit. He would spend the whole day here if he could with me. He’d just lounge in the sun streaming in through the windows, probably stretched out on the couch in my office while I worked, offering unhelpful commentary and stealing my snacks.
But alas, he had an actual job. W&S would probably notice if their COO spent all his time at her law firm. Which meant that he had to settle for the occasional drop-in. Today was special, though. In two hours, we’d be gone for six whole weeks.
The second he came through the doors, I knew he was here, judging by the compliments flowing in through my open door.
“I like your shirt,” Bethany, the receptionist, said only seconds after the elevator had dinged. “It’s very festive and joyful. So you.”
“Someone’s feeling bold today,” one of the associates teased.
Jesse laughed. “This? This is art.”
“It’s a cry for help,” someone else joked.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” he replied easily.
I stood up, curious about what he could possibly be wearing to have elicited this kind of response. Heading over to my door,I leaned against the frame for a moment, taking a break from sending my last emails to peek out at him.
The shirt truly was festive. Hawaiian and bright, it was completely ridiculous against the backdrop outside of a gray Chicago sky in winter, but if I had to be honest, he wore it like he was modeling a top designer’s newest line.
Chuckling, I shook my head and went back to my laptop, knowing he’d probably been given hell for that shirt at his own office. But if anyone could pull off that look, it was my husband. He took his time chatting with my paralegal and my assistant, knowing I still had a few things to wrap up.
I couldn’t wait to spend the next six weeks with him, just us and the ocean, but I still had so many last-minute things left to do. Refocusing on my screen, I finished off the last of my emails, my attention split between the conversation I’d just finished and the one I was about to start.
“Alright,” I said, settling into my chair as the call I’d been expecting connected. “Let’s make this quick, gentlemen. I have a flight to catch.”
Four men in suits blinked back at me from the screen, their faces all varying degrees of serious. We got through the first few minutes well, clarifying terms and confirming a few final conditions, until the door to my office opened without so much as a knock.
Jesse walked in with Hubert trotting hot on his heels, both of them immediately making themselves at home on my couch. I held up one finger without looking at them, continuing seamlessly with the meeting. “No, that clause doesn’t protect your client the way you think it does. It protects mine. If you want to renegotiate, we can, but it’ll cost you.”
I suddenly heard movement and the faint clink of something being picked up. When I turned my head just slightly, I caught aglance of Jesse inspecting one of the small decorative pieces on my shelf.
He raised his eyebrows when he caught me looking and I narrowed my eyes in warning, but he just smiled wider.He really is impatient today.
“Mrs. Westwood,” one of the men on the screen started.
“Yes?” I prompted when he didn’t continue, turning my attention back to them like nothing at all was happening in my office that was out of the ordinary.
There was a pause on the screen, though. Every man’s eyes had flicked away from mine and I didn’t need to look to know why. Jesse had wandered closer and had wound up in the frame.
I glanced briefly over my shoulder just to confirm, but yep. He was standing just behind me with his hands in his pockets, looking extremely pleased with myself while four grown, powerful men suddenly seemed to forget how to breathe comfortably.
I kept my expression perfectly neutral. “Is there a problem?”
