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He shrugs. “I don’t really care, to be honest with you. What’s Luke going to do, fire me after years of loyal service? Nah, he’ll understand. I’ll make some calls and do some delegation for once. If I can’t get someone else to do my work for me, what kind of a boss am I?”
“Yeah,” I say dryly. “Normally, that role is reserved for me. Let someone else take a turn.”
He grins. “See, now you’re getting it. I’ll make a manager of you yet.”
He picks up his phone and wanders outside, talking animatedly. I watch him while I finish my coffee—I love to see him in command like that, taking charge. It’s so damn sexy.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it when I first got this job, dating the boss does come with benefits. And for today, at least, I’m happy to take advantage of them.
Brock comes back in a little while later.
“All done,” he says with a satisfied smile. “We’ve both got a leave of absence for the rest of the week to deal with ‘personal issues.’ So what do you want to do? Where do you want to go? I’ve got a ton of air miles saved up, so we can pretty much go wherever we want.”
I walk over to him and put my hand on his chest, kissing him slowly, deeply on the lips. “I don’t know. Don’t care, really, as long as I’m with you.”
When Brock speaks, his lips brush against mine. He pulls me close and presses his hips against me, letting me feel his hardening cock through his pants. “I do have a certain . . . personal issue that I need dealt with. Maybe you can help me with that.”
“Of course, Mr. Evans,” I say, a smile curving my lips.
Brock grins as he dips down, then with no warning, lifts me off my feet. I squeal as he carries me back into the bedroom.
We return to the office the next Monday morning—tanned, relaxed, and feeling good. A few days on the beach was exactly what I needed. No phone calls, no emails, no nothing. Just sun, sand, the Pacific Ocean . . . and Brock.
We pull up outside the office in his car, and he groans.
“Ugh . . . back to the grind,” he says with a grimace. He pulls himself up straight and checks his appearance in the mirror. “It was almost like this place didn’t exist when we were out there on that beach.”
“Do you want to go first, or shall I?” I ask.
The previous couple of weeks, we’ve been deliberately coming into the office separately, even though we arrive together every morning. If people see us walking in together every morning, tongues are going to start wagging.
“Why don’t we just go in together?” Brock asks.
I stare at him. “Aren’t you worried people will gossip?”
“Let them. It’s not against the rules for us to be dating,” he says with a shrug.
I hesitate for a moment. “No, I guess it’s not.”
“So screw them. Maybe I’ll even make out with you in the middle of the office.” Brock grins, then laughs when he notices the panicked look on my face. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
As soon as we walk into the office, I can feel every pair of eyes fixed on us, following us.
As Brock enters his office, I go to my desk, catching up on the mountain of paperwork that’s been deposited there.
I’m just getting into the swing of things when Paula drops by my desk.
“So . . .” she begins tentatively. “You and Brock . . . is there something . . . going on between you two? Sorry to pry. I just couldn’t help but notice.”
She doesn’t look sorry at all. She looks hungry for some fresh, juicy gossip.
“Yep,” I say matter-of-factly. “We’re dating. Engaged, actually.”
I throw her a smile and get back to work while she stands there, not knowing what to do with herself now that she’s got her scoop so easily.
“Well . . . uh, congratulations,” she stutters before scurrying back to her desk, no doubt eager to share the news with everyone who’ll listen.
I’m surprisingly okay with that. Brock’s right—let them talk. Maybe it’ll be a bit awkward for a few days, but everyone will soon get bored of gossiping about us. Better this way than sneaking around forever.
Brock laughs when I tell him later that evening about the encounter with Paula in the office.
“Man,” he sighs, “it’ll be nice to not have to sneak around anymore. Luke seems cool with it. He trusts us to be able to stay professional while we’re working.”
“It might mean no more making out in your office, though,” I remind him.
“What?” Brock puts on a shocked face. Shaking his head, he says, “This was a mistake.”
I laugh.
