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“Really?”
He nods. “Andrew said he thought I seemed happier.”
“Oh my God.” I bury my head in the pillow. Andrew had been told a few days ago, and being my contact at Winter Corp, it’sweird to talk to him now, knowing thatheknows about me… dating his boss.
Isaac laughs and shifts on the bed. Milo rises from his sprawl and gives us both the evil eye. He saunters down to the foot of the bed with his tail held high and jumps off, probably to find a spot less human-occupied.
“Uh-oh,” Isaac says.
“He’ll come around,” I say. “He loves chin scratches too much.”
Isaac slides his hand beneath my shirt, finding the curve of my bare hip. “You know, when I told Andrew, did you know what he said?”
“What?”
“That he wished me the best, and he wasn’t worried at all about it becoming a problem down the line. He said that if he could count on anything, it’s me putting the company first.”
I chuckle. “He knows his boss.”
“Yes. But my first thought was that the same thing is true about you.”
I run my hand through the thick, short strands of his hair. “Yeah, I think that’s one thing we’ll never have to worry about with one another.”
“One of many.” Isaac leans closer and presses his lips to mine. We kiss for a few long, sweet minutes, my hand running through his hair the whole time.
“Mmm,” he says. “I love it when you do that.”
I tighten my fingers at his nape. “This?”
“Yes.”
I kiss him again, adding my other hand to the mix. His hair feels silky through my fingers. “Look,” he murmurs, “how unprofessional we can be.”
I chuckle. “It’s one of our strengths.”
He pulls me on top of him. I settle with a leg on either side and let my hands run over the muscled chest and stomach. He starts undoing the buttons of my shirt, one by one, his eyes dark. “Okay, I’m definitely a fan of unscheduled Sundays.”
I look down at his broad hands pushing the white linen of his shirt aside, baring me to him. “I thought we had an appointment at noon.”
“We can be late,” he murmurs.
“Late? Who are you, and what have you done to my boyfriend?”
A crooked smile spreads across his face. “Boyfriend.”
“Isn’t that what you are now?”
“Yes,” he says, and pushes the shirt off my shoulders. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you. You know, I quite like how you look, too.”
“Thank heavens for that.” He pulls me down and I stretch out on top of him, my bare chest against his. “I haven’t been someone’s boyfriend in a very long time.”
I chuckle. “Well, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a very long time, either. It does sound a bit…”
“High school?”
“We could go for ‘partner,’ I suppose.”
