by Brynne Asher
Three weeks later…
Lillian Burkette
It’s been about a month since I’ve been to the office.
One week in Central America and three weeks in North Carolina.
Gabe stayed with me through Gran’s funeral. He stayed with me during the reading of her last will and testament, stating that her estate—and everything in it—was to skip a generation. Everything was bequeathed to me.
Me.
There was a clause stating that my parents were to be given the right to live in the small guest house on the property until they could make other arrangements. It wasn’t like my parents were left with nothing. My mother still had her trust and my father a good job with the family business in which I now held a majority of the shares.
Suffice it to say, my parents started World War III.
Gabe stayed through that, too.
But after working out of my childhood bedroom every day, he finally had to head back to Indy for a product rollout. That was a week and a half ago. I had to stay to make sure everything was in order before I left.
My parents are contesting the will, but, by court order, have moved out of my grandmother’s home until it’s settled.
I don’t care what happens. My grandmother loved me and I loved her. I have twenty-six years of memories. I brought back some of her things I want to keep forever. If the will isn’t overturned, I’m not sure what I’ll do with the plantation. The property is on the National Register. It can’t be broken up or sold and I want to do everything I can to make sure it looks just like it does now for as long as I live.
If my parents aren’t a part of that, so be it.
I flew back to Indy yesterday afternoon and Gabe picked me up at the airport. I wore my Nicaraguan sundress and the second he laid eyes on me, he knew. He took me straight to his house and we barely made it through the front door.
I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Just for him.
He’d barely kicked the front door shut when he ripped my dress off—literally ripping it this time. After he put his mouth between my legs and sucked on my clit until I came, he took me up against the wall. I was completely naked and he was completely clothed.
It was all Gabe and I loved it.
Then he drove me back to my apartment and made me pack a big bag and said for the time being, he wanted me in his bed. He actually said he missed my snoring. He didn’t even smirk when he said this so I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not but he was dead serious about me being in his bed.
Now, it’s my first day back at work and I’m not just Lillian Burkette, Marketing Representative for the Central America Territory.
No.
I’m Lillian Burkette, the woman who’s sleeping with her boss’s boss.
I’ve dreaded this day for weeks. I’ve worried about it out loud to Gabe, who brushes it off. Sure, it’s easy for him. He owns the company.
I’ve gotten plenty of emails and phone calls over the last few weeks, checking on me and offering their condolences. I’ve even had a couple co-workers ask why the CEO stayed with me in North Carolina at all, let alone as long as he did. I brushed them off, using my Gran’s death as an excuse. Of course, they want to know and Gabe didn’t do much to keep it on the downlow. It was easy for everyone to see—humans are curious creatures by nature.
The writing was on the wall and it might as well have been graffitied in enormous, red letters—I was sleeping with the boss’s boss. News like that doesn’t sit quietly. It spreads like wildfire.
Assuming everyone has figured out Gabe and I are together, I rushed through my co-workers this morning who all offered me sweet hellos and condolences on the way in. But knowing that they know, I’m not sure I can do this. It makes me literally ill wondering what they’re thinking of me.
I’ve only been here for thirty minutes, I have an ache in my stomach, and am afraid to leave my office. Gabe came to work an hour before me this morning for a meeting, so I haven’t seen him yet.
With nervous, sweaty hands, I pick up my cell to bring up his text string.
Me – People have to know about us by now.
Gabe – Then let them know. I have nothing to hide.
Me – Of course, you don’t. You own the company. They’re probably whispering about me. I’m the one who’s doing naughty things with the CEO.
I see bubbles, then they disappear. Bubbles. No bubbles.
Gabe – Baby, it’s eight-thirty in the morning on your first day back and you’re making me hard. How am I supposed to make it ‘til lunch with you sexting me like this?
I gasp.
Me – We are not having lunch sex!
Gabe – With all this talk of sex, we’re definitely hitting it at lunch.
Me – Gabe, stop it.
Me – Just stop.
Gabe – You won’t be asking me to stop at lunch.
My computer dings.
I look up and I have a meeting request from Gabriel Blackburn from noon to one.
The nerve!
I reject the meeting.
Me – Gabe, I’m serious. I don’t know if I can take this.
Gabe – Fine. You’re fired.
My eyes go big and I stare at my phone.
What? He fired me?
Oh, no. He did not just fire me.
Putting my phone down, I march out of my small office. Walking through the cubicles and outlying areas, I make my way to a space I’ve never entered before. The office of the owner-slash-CEO-slash-my lover.
I nod quickly to the marketing director, my manager, looking away just as fast, while ignoring everyone else. When I get to the swanky corner space, I pass by Gabe’s assistant and don’t knock or warn him I’m coming in.
I shut the door behind me. It feels like we’re in a fishbowl in his glass-walled office. I glance over my shoulder to find I’m right but a fishbowl doesn’t do it justice.
We might as well be in an aquarium at the zoo.
I turn back to Gabe who’s sitting behind his desk. He has the nerve to smirk. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away ‘til lunch.”
I ignore him. “You fired me? Seriously?”
At least he doesn’t get up and come to me. Since we’ve been together, it’s rare we’re in the same room with this much distance between us. “You said you didn’t know if you could take this,” he points his finger up in the air and circles it, “and since this,” he motions between the two of us, “is happening, I thought I’d help you out.”
“I’m not letting you fire me,” I declare. I know it’s stupid but I don’t know what else to say.
“Well, I’m certainly not allowing you to change the status of us, so either you get over what everyone might be thinking or I’ll help you find another job. It won’t be hard. You’re good at what you do. I’d hate to lose you here, but, baby, I won’t allow you to leave me. If I have to start a new company for you to work at, I will.”
I exhale, feeling defeated and, if I’m honest, just a little bit turned on by how much he wants us to happen. “I just don’t want to be that woman, because I’m not. I work hard and earn my way, not sleep with my boss for any type of favors.”
He frowns and gets up to move. Lucky for me, he still doesn’t come to me. He crosses his arms and perches his beautiful backside on the front of his desk. “You’d better not be sleeping with your boss. I’m going to have an issue with that.”
I tip my head. “You know what I mean.”
He gives me a small smile. “Baby, come here.”
I widen my eyes. “No. You have to promise not to do that here at work. Please, Gabe.”
He sighs and looks out his glass-walled office. He seems to make a decision and pushes away from the desk. I have to take a step back, almost tripping on my spiked heel, but he moves around me at a quick clip and opens his office door.
Standing outside his office, he raises his voice to a point that it booms through the vast space. “I need your attention.”
“Oh, no,”
I whisper to myself in horror.
“There will be days when I give Lillian Burkette a ride to work. There might be other days when I give her a ride home. Some days, like today, I’ll also take her to lunch. Raise your hand if you have an issue with this.”
All my co-workers are either looking over cubicles or standing in the doorways to their offices. A murmur spreads through the space as every single person shakes their head or shrugs with “no’s” and “no way, boss,” and “no problem here.”
“Very good.” Gabe nods and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to hear anything about it. Get back to work.”
The regular office hustle and bustle returns to its normal level and Gabe returns to me but doesn’t shut the door. He leaves at least two feet between us and lowers his voice for only my ears. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
I close my eyes in defeat. I know he won’t but I love how he always puts it out there. With Gabe, I never wonder what he’s thinking.
“And I’m going to fuck you at lunch. Be ready to go by noon. I’ve got a meeting at one-thirty, we’ll have to be fast so I can still swing by and pick you up a sandwich and a brownie.”
I open my eyes and his gaze is hot and heavy. He looks like he’d eat me up right now if I were to give him the green light.
“Morning sex,” he goes on. “That might be the only way I can get through a day working with you.”
I smile. “No more announcements. Please?”
“Don’t worry, baby. It’ll work out and you’ll be fine. You got through the last month. Sleeping with the big boss is a piece of cake.”
Well, that’s the truth. “Okay.”
We part ways, him to his desk and me, making my walk of shame back to my office. But this time I did it caring less because I’m really looking forward to lunch.
Epilogue
Six months later…
Gabriel Blackburn
Standing in the gardens of Lillian’s plantation under the heavy moss-covered limbs of almost three-hundred-year-old live oaks, I look over at my wife of about two hours. She’s talking to Melody Keegan and Maya Cain while holding a glass of champagne.
I swear, the woman is capable of feeling my eyes on her no matter where we are because she glances my direction and smooths her hand down her flat stomach over the silk of her gown. Giving me a small smile, she raises her glass to me but doesn’t take a sip.
No one knows. She doesn’t want to tell anyone for a couple months.
Hell, she only told me last week.
“Congratulations.” I turn to see my buddy from Ranger school, Grady Cain.
I take his outstretched hand and shake it. “Thanks, man.”
“No,” he smirks at me, “I mean congratulations. On the baby.”
I frown. “How did you know?”
He tips his head to the three women talking. “Your new wife has been holding that glass for over an hour and hasn’t taken a sip. It’s hot as fuck out here—no way would anyone still want to drink that shit after losing its chill. You might want to tell her to grab a new glass if you don’t want anyone to know.”
I shake my head.
Grady Cain was discharged from the Army and fell off the face of the earth a year after we graduated Ranger school. Word is he’s been doing some top-secret shit, but he’s never offered, so I never asked. He surfaced a few years ago and is back in the States, settled down with a wife, kid, and with another on the way.
“Don’t mention it to anyone,” I warn. “No one at work knows and we’re not ready for the questions yet. Lillian has started a foundation for the plantation and it’s time consuming. She’s thinking it could be a full-time gig if she opens it to the public and donates the proceeds back to the community.”
Lillian’s parents were denied every motion they filed to contest her grandmother’s will. Two months ago, the estate was settled and my wife now owns this fucker and all the land it sits on. Since we’re settled in Indy, she said she wants to open it to the public. Now that her parents are out of the picture, she can move forward.
Her parents weren’t invited to the wedding.
This was an easy decision and one I’m happy my sweet as hell wife didn’t feel guilt over. No way did I want to see their faces on this day after the shit they put Lillian through.
“Never thought I’d see the day Gabe Blackburn would get married, let alone be a daddy.”
I look over to see Tex Keegan and I frown at him. “The fuck?”
“I still don’t understand how you got someone as perfect as her to like you, let alone marry you.” He raises his beer and watches our wives chatter. “But here’s to little Blackburns running amuck. I hope they make you gray. Your hair is too perfect.”
“Does everyone know about the baby?” I ask.
I know nothing about pregnancy—other than drugs and alcohol are bad. I also know nothing about babies. All I know is I’ll never subject my kid to the horrors of my Great Aunt Libby’s cats—dead or alive. I also know I probably won’t be able to stop my mother and sisters from pushing their classic musicals on my offspring. I don’t have enough power in the world to put a stop to that.
Tex looks back to me. “It’s plain to see. Your woman can’t keep her hand off her stomach.”
Interesting. Neither can I since she told me my sperm was the strongest in all the land since it took no effort at all to get her pregnant. She did away with her pills last month after talking me into the fact small humans will make our lives better. Since my life is fan-fucking-tastic right now, I’ll basically do anything she wants.
Except get a cat.
We’ll never have a fucking cat.
I’ll buy her a dog after the honeymoon.
Hell, I’ll buy her a ferret if she wants one, but I draw the line at cats.
“Got you a tracker as a wedding present. You’d better carry it, too.”
I look over and Tex is grinning like a loon.
“You didn’t,” I say, knowing he probably did.
He shakes his head and takes a swig of his drink. “You’re too damn hard to find without it. I’ve already talked to Lillian. She said she’d make sure you’d cooperate.”
Damn. Tex has figured out my weakness. He knew I’d say no to him, but to Lillian? She’ll make me carry the damn thing, for sure.
“Here’s to settling down.” Grady raises his water glass. Tex and I follow suit with our beers when Grady adds, “May you have all girls and they look just like your new wife so you will forever be surrounded by pink and be on punkass-boy patrol.”
I click my glass to theirs and glare at Grady. “You’re an asshole.”
“I got your back, man.” Grady grins. “I make people disappear.”
I ignore that statement for fear of being an accessory to a crime and because I see Great Aunt Libby pull my sweet Lillian away from her new friends.
“Excuse me. I need to save my wife before my aunt ropes us into a visit.”
I make my way across the lawn to the tents where dinner will be served in about an hour and the air-conditioned space where our tiered chocolate wedding cake is displayed. Lillian explained to me that humidity and icing don’t mix well.
“…I’m Gabe’s favorite aunt. He just loved to visit me when he was little.”
I wrap a hand around Lillian’s waist and pull her back to my front. Splaying my hand over our miniature human, I greet the crazy cat lady. “Hi, Libby. Thanks for coming.”
“Well, I was just talking to your bride here about when you were little. I can’t wait to get to know her. I do hope you’ll come for a visit soon.”
“We’d love to have you at our house. Lillian will bake you a cake. Right, baby?” I look down at my wife and give her a squeeze.
When she smiles up at me, she’s so damn beautiful, I realize Tex is right. It’s nothing short of a miracle she gave me the time of day, let alone agreed to marry me. Even now, with the small human on the way, it’s hard to believe she’s mine
.
“Of course.” Lillian grins at me. I was forced to spill one night before the wedding about my cat phobia so she’d have my back in case something like this happened. Like the kickass wife she’s proven to be over the last two hours, she turns her southern charm on my aunt. “You have to come to our house. Nothing would make me happier than to create new memories with Gabe’s family as we start our lives together. I’ll cook and bake for you and you can stay as long as you like.”
I frown. Now she’s just going overboard.
“If you’ll excuse us, Libby, I’d like a moment with my bride.”
“I’ll call you,” Aunt Libby yells after us as I drag Lillian away. “You have to answer because I don’t text.”
Lillian waves at her as I pull her into the gardening shed that’s really just a fancy building for flowers.
“Aunt Libby is sweet,” Lillian says as I close her in and put her back to the wall.
“She’s not. Don’t let her fool you. She’s a freak.” I take her in my arms and put my lips to her skin where her neck meets her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Gabe. I’ll protect you from the cats.”
I lift my head and frown. “That’s not funny.”
Her smile grows big. “I know. Cats are no joke.”
I bring my hands to her face and change the subject. “You married me.”
Her face softens. “I did.”
“You won’t regret it.”
She shakes her head in my hands. “Never.”
“Love you, baby.”
“Gabe.” My whispered name floats across my face and, like every time she does it, it’s a fucking gift I’ll never take for granted since I wouldn’t be here right now if it had been left up to my own damn stubbornness. “I love you, too.”
And for the millionth time, I thank God we were ambushed in a Nicaraguan rainforest.
Four years later…
“Why?”
I fill my travel mug with coffee and look over at my wife who’s exhausted and run down. I know this because I feel the same fucking way, I just don’t look it because I’ve at least had a shower this morning to wake my ass up. She’s in a sweatshirt that I’m pretty sure she’s worn three days in a row with spit-up, breast milk, and coffee stains on the front. Imma, who was named after Lillian’s Gran, is sitting at her feet in our kitchen and has just dragged all the Tupperware out of the cabinets, pretending to cook. Rosco, our four-year-old black lab who still acts like a puppy, is right next to Imma, chewing the fuck out of a plastic lid and all I can think of is I’m going to find that in his dog shit the next time I mow.
