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“Live?” I gulp.
“On the Chat’s social media feed,” Nanci confirms.
“In that case”—Barrett grabs me again, this time lifting me into his arms—“let’s not let Quarterback Joe Noll down. Gimme some sugar, honey.”
Oh, what the hell. I grip his neck and kiss him again. No music swells, but I feel like we’re at the end of a movie—in the closing scene before the credits roll.
“Show’s over,” Barrett announces. With me in his arms, he leaves the conference room—it’s a grand exit.
“What did we do?” I ask as he carries me past the darkened cubicles and down the hall to Marge’s former office.
“We made the news.” He sits on the edge of the desk with me in his lap.
“Are you going to put me down?”
“Not yet.” He nuzzles my nose. “I love you like mad, Kitty Cat. If it takes a lifetime, I won’t stop until I win you back.”
“I don’t know about this groveling version of you.” I stroke the soft hair at the back of his head, watching as his expression grows the slightest bit worried. “I like cocky, confident, too-big-for-his-britches Fox. The one who knows that when a woman allows him to kiss her on live social media and possessively carry her out of a room, that she’s obviously still in love with him.”
His mouth softens as he searches my face. “She is?”
I whistle while pointing down at the ground, but this time make an exploding sound. “I hit hard, Fox. But I stood back up. And when I did, I was more in love with you than before.”
“Ah, Kitty Cat.” He gives me a quick kiss. “Say it. Please.”
“What about ‘More Than Words’? Isn’t that our new motto?”
“You can show me later. Hell, you can show me in two seconds. This desk is sturdy.” He wiggles his hips, and the metal legs squeak in protest. “Sort of. I’m a dying man begging for a stay of execution. Please, honey. Say it once.”
“Just once?”
“Just once today.”
I put the tip of my nose on his, close my eyes, and hug his neck with my arms. “I love you, Barrett Fox.”
“Those are the words.”
I kiss him, teasing my tongue along the seam of his lips. His hands roam over my body and mine return the favor.
“I missed this,” I say as he unbuttons my shirt.
“There’s nothing like it.”
“There’s no one like you.”
“There’s no one like us,” he corrects, palming the back of my head.
“About this desk...” I say when he sets me on my feet. “Think it’ll hold us?”
“I don’t care.”
I grin. He grins.
And then we start shucking clothes.
