Professional Boundaries
Page 23
“Ms. Bryant …”
I put my finger over his mouth. “I don’t want to be Ms. Bryant anymore.”
His face dropped. “We’ve been through this.”
“I know,” I smiled, “but you’re not listening to me.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“If you think I’m saying I love you, then yes.”
It was the first time in thirteen years I had said those words to him, or any man for that matter, but his response was so much better this time. I had never seen him grin so wide. He even decided to cross the professional boundary line and he kissed me deeply and thoroughly. By the time he was done, I felt like I had just done a marathon session of belly dancing.
“I’m planning on resigning,” I managed to say through my staggered breathing. Boy could he kiss.
In his shock, he almost knocked me off of his lap. “Why?” he questioned as he grabbed onto me so I wouldn’t hit the floor.
I took his face in my hands, looked into his worried eyes, and smiled sweetly. “Because I don’t want any more boundaries, professional or personal, coming in between us anymore.”
Epilogue
Snuggling up by the fireplace, watching the snow fall through the massive skylights in our rented luxury cabin in Beaver Creek, Colorado made me forget about any misgivings I’d had about getting married in December. I’d wanted to wait until spring, but Ian had wanted to get married the second I told him I loved him, so we compromised. But here, now, wrapped up in his arms, I wished I had given him his wish and married him sooner.
Oh well, there was no looking back now, only forward, and from where I sat, it looked pretty darn great. Besides the obvious of being married to the man my heart and soul had chosen so long ago, I was finally getting that home my sister had pestered me about for years. Well, actually, I was getting two homes, one in Nashville and one in Glenwood Springs. Ian’s wedding present to me was a parcel of land not too far from his parent’s home. We would be meeting with an architect after our honeymoon to begin plans for our vacation home. Our home in Nashville wouldn’t be done until spring, but that was ok, Ian’s apartment would be more than sufficient for the interim.
I also finally understood what the “something else” was that Boss had mentioned when Ian first came on board, and it excited me. I was going to try out that whole domestic diva thing my sister had been raving about for so many years. I decided that two Greysons were probably one too many in the office, and since Ian lived and breathed deal making, I made my resignation effective as of December 1. I would still consult for Chandler Media, as well as for some of my favorite clients, but my sister and I already had a zillion plans for how we would spend our days. Most of our more immediate plans dealt with decorating my new home.
I had something else in mind too, I just needed to convince my husband that sooner was better than later. Of course, as always, he had a plan, and his plan was that we wait for at least a year before we tried to have a baby, but his plans didn’t always work out the best for us. My plan was to be as persuasive as possible. I liked my odds.
As the firelight danced on the frosted window of our cabin, I remembered a conversation we’d had about what he would call me in the office if we were ever to marry. He’d never answered me and I was still curious. “So, Mr. Greyson …”
I could feel his eyes roll at the name. I didn’t even need to look at him.
“… You never did say what you would have called me in the office after we were married.”
He pulled me tighter and laughed gently in my ear. “I never planned on working with my wife. If you hadn’t resigned, I would have, Mrs. Greyson.”
I sighed contently. I loved the sound of that name. “You really would have resigned?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because there are some kinds of thoughts one should never have about a co-worker.” He smiled mischievously.
I looked up into his eyes and matched his smile with my own.
“What kind of thoughts?”
He kissed me lightly and then worked his way over to my ear where he whispered quietly. His words and touch sent shivers through my body.
“Mr. Greyson … how very unprofessional of you.”
THE END
About the Author
Jennifer Peel is a fifth generation Colorado native who currently calls Alabama home. She is the mother of three amazing children who have grown up way too fast. She enjoys the mountains, vacations at the beach, date night with her wonderful husband, late night talks with her kiddos, touring model homes, pink bubblegum ice cream … and writing.
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Other books by Jennifer Peel:
Other Side of the Wall
The Girl in Seat 24B
To see more about her and her books, visit her website at: www.jenniferpeel.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue