Husband To Go

by S. C. Adams

  With that, Tanner descends on me, covering every part of my body he can reach with kisses.

  “Holy fuck, Kylie. You are amazing. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad again,” he says in a choked voice.

  I stare at him while pushing his thick black hair off his forehead.

  “Tanner, are you crying?”

  It’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen my husband cry, and the sight touches me to my core. He shakes his head, but then nods while wiping at one eye.

  “Baby you make me so happy, I can’t even describe it. If you’d told me five years ago that I would be a father to three and married to my best friend, I would never have believed you. But miracles do happen because sweetheart, you are my miracle.”

  With that, he claims my lips in a passionate kiss and I give into my husband’s persuasive touch once more. After all, Tanner and I were never supposed to happen. He was engaged to my mom and had no intention of ever falling in love, much less giving his heart away. But after incredible setbacks and challenges, we found each other through the fog of confusion, and now we’re going to expand our family. How did I manage to achieve all this, with my hunky husband, adorable daughter, and two babies on the way? To tell you the truth, I’m not sure, but Tanner and my kids make it all worth it.

  The End

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  Kate

  I’m heading into my first day of work. I’m a little nervous, but I feel confident that I can clear Aiden’s name and turn the company’s reputation around. I’m more worried about being late this morning more than anything. New York traffic is ridiculous no matter what time of the day it is.

  I’m determined to succeed for Aiden and show him just how good I am. When there’s something I want, I go after it without letting anything stop me. In this case, what I want is to do exactly what my boss is asking of me: I want to save him and the sinking ship that is Tech Wreck. I worked my ass off to get where I’m at, and I’m not going to get the big name players unless I keep at it.

  I show up at Tech Wreck five minutes early and go straight to Aiden’s office. I don’t know who anyone else is around the building, but I decide to save introductions for later. I have been planning what to say to Aiden for hours, and I’m on a roll, ready to keep impressing him. I’m dressed in a conservative blouse with a long plaid skirt, hoping to look as unattractive as possible.

  I was also busy telling myself during my car ride to work that I have to be careful. It isn’t just that I have to watch out for inappropriate behavior. On top of that, I have to pretend like there aren’t any sparks between us. It is hard to ignore the way he kept looking at me so intensely when we first met.

  I knock on his office door, and Adam opens the door for me. Sitting in front of Aiden’s desk is an older man I don’t recognize, and sitting behind the desk is the man himself.

  Aiden smiles at me with such warmth that I feel I could melt. It is unfair to see just how gorgeous and charming his smile is; it instantly makes it more difficult to ignore what is going on between us. It also doesn’t help that his impressive muscles manage to still come through his button-up shirt and suit. I wonder what his different muscles felt like.

  “Carl, this is Kate Harly, our new head of PR,” Aiden says to the gentleman I didn’t recognize. “Good morning, Kate. This is Carl Stern. he works in HR.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Carl says while shaking my hand.

  “Likewise,” I reply. “Would you like me to come back?”

  “No, not at all!” Aiden insists. “We had just concluded our conversation not a minute before you got here. Adam, Carl, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

  Both Adam and Carl take their leave, stepping out of the office and closing the door behind them as they leave.

  I take my seat in front of his desk, becoming more anxious with every second. It isn’t easy to sit across from him. I’m lost looking at his gorgeous features—his short, thick dark hair, his full sexy lips, and his illuminating eyes. Today, his eyes are grey, but I had seen them appear a cool blue before. I suspect that his eyes must change color depending on certain lights or the specific outfit he is wearing.

  It doesn’t help that I can feel some moisture between my legs as I got comfortable in my seat. He is a beautiful man, and he knows it.

  “Welcome aboard,” says Aiden with a suggestive tone. “Before we start, I wanted to address any specific questions that you might have going in.”

  I do have several things that I want to ask him, but none of them pertain to our business at hand.

  “If I think of anything, I’ll hit you up,” I respond.

  “All right,” he nods. “Today, we need to discuss strategy together. There are many avenues to take with this bullshit, and I honestly don’t know which would be the best. This is where I’m counting on you, Ms. Harly.”

  “Call me Kate.”

  “Oh.” He chuckles. “I thought we were speaking professionally to each other.”

  “I think we can speak to each other however we feel comfortable, right?” I retort.

  “I agree,” he says, his steely grey eyes piercing into my soul.

  “Strategy,” I state. “Getting Tech Wreck out of the train wreck.”

  “Right!” he says with amusement. “Nice wordplay.”

  “Thank you. I don’t think I need to tell you that it’s going to be really fucking difficult to make you look like a good guy here, no matter what. Whether you even did it or not doesn’t matter—”

  “I didn’t rape her,” he interrupts. “I didn’t hurt her. Just so you know.”

  “I believe you,” I say without total sincerity. “I’m just saying, no matter what we do here, there will always be people that support you no matter what, and there will be people protesting you and hating you no matter what.”

  I wasn’t sure what to believe when I first met Aiden. I wanted to believe that the stories weren’t true. Sarah Blackburn is the only accuser thus far, and I know a bit about Sarah’s bad reputation.

  “So, what’re you thinking?” Aiden asks.

  “I think that we need to do something for the community and do it fast, before the weekend,” I explain. “Something that will make you look good, generous, and considerate. A way that will make others happy and warm when they see it on the news or read an article. It can’t seem forced. It has to be genuine.”

  “How the hell are we going to pull that off?” he wonders.

  “I had some ideas.”

  “Please, tell me what you have in mind,” he allows.

  “I have a few suggestions,” I say timidly. “But the idea that I keep coming back to is—and, this is just an idea—we have you visit the children’s wing of a hospital and have you donate learning tablets to all the kids. Initial thoughts?”

  He is pondering and considering the idea seriously. He is nodding, seemingly impressed, so I continue.

  “I went through some old interviews of you online from when you were first starting your company,” I say. “And I saw a story where you told an interviewer that you wanted to get rich enough that you could donate electronics to people in need as often as possible.

  “So, it got me thinking. Why don’t you live up to that early goal? You’re a billionaire, and you can easily afford to donate some tablets. Shit, even some laptops if you felt giving enough. Giving your learning tablets to these sick little kids would be sweet, heartwarming, and a fantastic chance for photo and video opportunities.

  “Next, we give a press conference, where inevitably someone will ask you if you’re doing this just for publicity. You will explain that you’ve wanted to donate to the hospital for years and figured now is a good time to start. We can then either have a plant ask—or wait for a legitimate reporter to ask—whether the sexual allegations are true. You can either choose not to comment, or you can say something that will
win the crowd over.”

  I wait for him to say something, but he just keeps sitting there and looking at me with his hungry eyes. He has his hand to his mouth, only serving to make my imagination run wild with ideas of what I want to do to that mouth.

  “Anyway,” I say. “That’s what I got there. Also, not to be hypocritical or cunty or whatever, but if you look at it from a marketing standpoint, too, it’s a win. If the cameras see those kids enjoying your tablets, other kids around the country will see them enjoying them. It’s basically free advertising, and let’s face it, I didn’t even know you had a learning tablet on the market, do you know what I mean? It will raise awareness.”

  I really did feel heartless for thinking about making a profit during a trip to a children’s wing of a hospital, but I knew that any big company is always looking to make a bigger profit. He seems amused by my logic.

  “What do you think?” I ask.

  “I think I’m going to make myself a drink,” Aiden says.

  He gets up from his desk and walks over to the corner of his office where there is a fridge and mini-bar setup. He gets out a small bottle of vodka and a gallon of orange juice. He also grabs two bottles of water from the fridge before he starts mixing his beverage. He keeps shooting glances at me, but I’m reluctant to enable him.

  “I think everything you just said is exactly what we should do,” Aiden says. “I think that’s a great idea. I’ll donate the learning tablets to the children, take a few snapshots, some selfies, and then—well, you know the plan. You just gave it to me! I think that’s actually genius.”

  “Gee, thanks!” I laugh. “I thought it was good. I didn’t think it was genius.”

  “Well, it is,” he says as he pours his vodka in with his juice. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” I say.

  He comes back with his screwdriver and the two waters, handing me one of them.

  “Thanks,” I say, holding my bottle up.

  “This may be awkward, and you can say no,” he begins clumsily, “but I feel kind of weird sitting behind a desk like this to address you. I’m really impressed by you, and I want us to be equals right now. Could I maybe sit beside you in front of my desk?”

  “Sure, go for it,” I reply.

  I take a few good swigs of water, trying to distract myself from how sexy this man is. I really get to see just how tall he is as he takes his chair from behind the desk and moves it right next to mine.

  “I’m getting my morning orange juice with a little kick,” he explains while taking his seat. “I don’t drink and drive.”

  “That’s good to know,” I say. “Also, and this is just some information you should know in case you want to use it, I know who your accuser is personally.”

  He takes a long sip of his drink. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I knew your last PR manager from college. Sarah Blackburn.”

  “I feel like I’m cold all over all of the sudden,” he says in aggravation.

  “Yeah, I knew her, and I didn’t like her that much, to tell you the truth,” I admit. “She was kind of a major slut on campus. She slept with most of our professors to get through the more difficult classes.”

  “Of course, she did,” he says, laughing while he empties his glass.

  “Yeah, she got two of them fired after she told the dean that they pressured her into having sex with them one semester.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks with wide eyes. “She really got her teachers fired after she fucked them for an A?”

  “It appears that way,” I concur.

  “I’d be interested to talk to those two professors,” he remarks.

  “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it already.” I wink.

  To say that I ‘didn’t like Sarah that much’ is sort of an understatement. I hated her back in school. I hate her for what she represents more than anything, the idea that a woman can get ahead as long as she’s hot.

  “This is all really good, Kate,” says Aiden. “I say let’s get to work.”

  “Whenever you’re ready!” I say, clapping my hands together.

  “So, I guess you aren’t on a first name basis with Sarah or anything, are you?” he wonders.

  “I mean, she probably remembers who I am.” I shrug. “I can only speak for me. I remember her. I talked to her in class by name. I did consider reaching out to her privately to see if maybe we could get a conversation going between you two.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my lawyer says also,” he says as he moves on to his water. “I want to sue the shit out of her so bad. I don’t need a PR guy or gal to tell me why I can’t do that.”

  “Suing a girl that’s accusing you of rape doesn’t work, unless you’re Donald Trump,” I quip.

  “Oh snap, we’re getting political.” He laughs. “Yeah, I don’t want to talk to Sarah. I’m not sure I’d want you talking to her, either.”

  “Yeah, in some cases, approaching the accuser and talking might be efficient and even the best solution,” I say. “It would definitely save a lot of time to just talk things out. But I know Sarah. I don’t think we’ll get much done trying to get to her through basic dialogue. She’s always plotting.”

  “Yeah, let’s not talk to her,” he reiterates. “I really hope you believe me when I say that I didn’t abuse Sarah in any way.”

  “Is there consensual sex?” I wonder.

  “Yes,” he replies quickly. “Two occasions, both consensual, both times we were drunk and … other things, perhaps. I resisted her for a long time, but she kept asking me out for drinks. She’s not my type, but I felt bad about just saying no to her all the time.”

  “She wore you down, huh?”

  I sit back in my chair, leaning back to readjust myself. I have my legs partially open, but with the length of my skirt, I know that he can’t see anything even if he is looking. I’m pretty sure that he’s looking—he’s subtle, but his eyes dart tellingly.

  “Tell me something,” says Aiden. “I just have to know about what’s going on with Circuit Town. You were their PR rep. I figure you have to have some juice.”

  “I’m a bit classier than that, Mr. Marx,” I reply. “Client confidentiality, that sort of thing. I’m not going to tell anyone else about what goes on here, so I show that respect to all who employ my services.”

  He hums for a brief moment before taking a large swig of water.

  “I’ll rephrase,” he tries again. “What was it like working for Circuit Town? This is your work history, so I’d like to know.”

  “It was awful, to tell you the truth,” I confess. “It was a poorly managed company that didn’t like taking advice from anyone.”

  “That’s not a good thing,” he adds.

  “No, and the people that ran the company were terrible, didn’t know what they were doing, and treated most of their employees like shit,” I continue. “I think that the company is collapsing from that, in my opinion. If you don’t treat your workers right, they’ll start reflecting that neglect in the work they give you.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” He nods. “I always treat my employees the way I want to be treated. So, after Circuit Town, your agency sent you here?”

  “Well, I didn’t have work for a while after Circuit Town didn’t last,” I say. “I was just starting to get worried about getting dropped by my agency. I couldn’t find a job and my agency wasn’t looking hard for me. I thought I wasn’t going to make it. Then, I discovered your company, and you got me back to work. I can’t thank you enough.”

  We stare into each other’s eyes for several uninterrupted seconds. Neither of us want to break the connection. I’m secretly hoping that he might inch closer to me.

  “What’s your take on office romances, Ms. Harly?” he asks me, granting my wish and scooting himself forward in his chair just a few inches.

  “Call me Kate.”

  “Kate, do you believe that office romances can work?�
��

  “I think they’re usually a bad idea,” I answer honestly. “If it’s specifically against a company’s policy, I say absolutely not.”

  “And if there’s nothing about it in the company policy?” he wonders.

  “I say two consenting adults should be allowed to do whatever they want to or with each other,” I say. “I especially don’t think it’s a good idea if a former employee is accusing you of sexual harassment.”

  “What are you saying?” he asks. “You’re not referring to me, are you?”

  “I wanted to spare you from having to lie and say you were asking hypothetically. I assume you’re asking for yourself. You’re bad, Mr. Marx.”

  “You don’t even know.”

  Suddenly, his hands are no longer on a glass of alcohol, a bottle of water, or on his desk. His hands are on my legs, planted around my knees. He’s caressing my legs with his fingers, but I suspect that his fingers will travel momentarily.

  Oh my god, what do I do? His fingers are caressing in larger circles, touching more of my skin the longer he pets me. I play with my hair for several nervous seconds, but I’m in a conundrum. After all, I’m insanely attracted to Aiden Marx but he’s also my boss.

  To be continued …

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  About the Author

  S.C. Adams is a romance author who likes her stories hot and unprotected. She grew up a Jersey girl but considers herself a global citizen now. She gives thanks to the gods of Paypal, Amazon, and Microsoft for allowing her to work anywhere in the world, including on the beaches of Bali and the mountains of Peru. Oh, and she also hates chocolate, but loves dogs. Currently toting her mutt Minnie to a new location every three months.

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