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"In many ways, he’s a bit like a toddler. But I don't mind. Well, not at the moment. When he calls me at four in the morning, the air is usually blue."
I snorted. "I can't blame you."
She cocked a brow at me. "Why all the questions?"
"I don't know. I'm just curious."
It was her turn to snort. "It's always dangerous when you're curious, Cooper."
As that was the first I'd heard of that, I snickered. "That doesn't feel like a compliment."
She winked at me. "Well spotted."
Before I could do no more than sputter at her, she slipped out of the car, darting away from it with a giggle that had me chuckling.
There had always been a playful side to her, but I hadn't seen it. Not really. And I found myself charmed because that light-hearted side of her nature, loosened something inside of me. Made me lighter somehow.
I climbed out of the car and locked up. I peered over the roof at her, and saw her hovering twenty feet away, on the first step that led to the conservatory doorway where Justin did all of this work.
Her grin beamed at me, touched me with enough warmth that it didn't matter it was barely forty degrees outside. I felt warm and safe and loved just as I basked in that smile.
Sappy thoughts for this early in the morning, but she'd always inspired that kind of shit in me. It was why, though I'd
been the happiest I've ever known when I was in a relationship with her, I'd spent half my time scared shitless. Half-terrified, half-awed by what she made me feel.
The conservatory, I've come to learn, was where most of Justin's staff congregated. Though his household team remained in the main house, which was more like a manor in Britain than a mansion in the States, the people who helped him run his business stayed close to where the magic happened.
There were a few people Justin relied on. Lauren was one. I found that she helped him in an administrative setting, but also, she helped with the mockups of his designs. He hadn't had to tell me that, nor had she. I'd recognised her style when I'd seen the advanced drawings Justin had shown me.
When I'd received the file on Justin and his products, such drawings hadn’t been included. I'd only seen pictures of the finished item. But I believed that had I seen the mockups, I wouldn't have had such a huge surprise when I'd arrived here. I'd have known, instinctively, I believed at any rate, that Lauren was involved with this project from her style alone.
"Slow poke," she teased, shivering a little in the morning chill.
"You don't have to wait," I groused.
"And miss that sexy walk of yours?" She smirked. "No way."
Despite myself, and though I would deny it wholeheartedly in the future, I felt my cheeks heat. Of course, she noticed, and laughter pealed from her at the sight. She gently flicked my cheek with her finger, brought the tip to her mouth and licked it. Then she made a sizzling sound. "Feel the burn."
I rolled my eyes at her, then shooed her away, grumbling, "Let's get inside sometime this year."
"Mr Grouse," she mocked, delight and laughter warring in her eyes. Other than that, she obeyed, turning around, presenting me with a mighty fine sight of her ass in a pair of tailored slacks that showed off the peachy curve to perfection, before she slipped inside the overheated conservatory.
Instantly, we both removed our outdoor gear. Justin kept the temperature in this place at unbearable levels. In deep midwinter, I could easily imagine working in shorts in this place.
In response to the heat, she blew out a breath, wafted a hand in front of her face, and mumbled, "I feel as hot as your cheeks."
Amused by her teasing, I retorted, "I'll remember this moment."
Something in my words seem to stop her in her tracks. "What does that mean?"
My grin was slow, and wicked. "Wouldn't you like to know." It wasn't a question, it was most definitely a statement. And Justin's timing, unusually, was perfect for once. Because he appeared right then, totally out of the blue.
As was usually the way, he looked detached. Not in a nasty way, or in a way that made me question his mental health–in all fairness, he displayed all the signs of a mad genius–but at that moment it seemed simply as though he had no idea what we were talking about, had no desire to know, and simply wanted his own needs answered to.
Considering we were both on his payroll, and that was our jobs, we both turned professional in the blink of an eye. I was used to disassociating myself from certain situations, but I was surprised at how well Lauren handled it—going from confused and flirtatious, to business, with barely a breath in between.
Then, I realized how hypocritical I was. Lauren was no longer the ingenue I’d once known. She was a woman fully grown, a professional now.
