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“Exactly. Sometimes, it’s better to silently plant the seed.”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, nothing. But listen, when the wedding comes along, is it okay for me to tell that story about you in Panera Bread, or no? You know, for my speech? I need to start drafting this thing because you know I’m a terrible writer.”
“Oh, look at that. I think it might be time for you to head home,” I tease. “Don’t you have some designs to work on?”
“And don’t you have a ton of marketing to work on? I mean, if the boss is taking some time to play, I think a lowly employee can do the same. Me and Brad are going to get busy tonight.”
“First, you’re not a lowly employee. You’re the heart of this company. And two, I didn’t need that mental image. Now get out of here. Take a few pieces of cornbread with you.”
Harper grins. “Am I your guinea pig now? What, if we don’t choke and die on this stuff, then it’ll be okay for Cash?”
“You’ve got it. So send me a text after you eat it to tell me you lived.”
“We might be too busy for a text,” she teases, laying into the word “busy” heavily.
“I love you,” I shout after swatting her away. She heads toward the door, stooping down to pet Barcelona goodbye.
“Love you back. Now wrangle that cowboy,” she says.
“He’s not a cowboy. Far from it.”
“Closest you’ll ever get, probably, so own it. Good luck tonight.”
“You too,” I shout.
She peeks back through the almost-shut door. “I don’t need luck to get lucky anymore.”
Before I can spout something back, the door slams, and I’m alone to finish dinner, finish my makeup, and finish owning the fact Cash Creed’s coming over, breaking even more rules I’ve set out for myself.
Then again, I’m pretty sure the entire book of rules has been chucked out at this point. I guess that’s the thing about lust and love and whatever the hell this is. Sometimes it changes the rules for you, and you just have to learn how to play all over again.
