“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s Kenyon.”
Hunter nods as my dad walks down the hallway toward his office.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, rising from my chair.
A sly smile crawls onto his lips. “I wanted to make sure you were fulfilling your end of the deal.”
“My end of the deal?” I ask and raise my eyebrows as he steps inside the conference room, shuts the door behind him, and proceeds to turn the blinds closed.
Just what exactly does he think we’re going to do in here?
He puts his hand on the small of my back and tugs me into him. His lips find mine in an instant. He’s warmth and arousal and comfort . . . and home.
Isn’t that what I’ve come to realize over these past few months? That even though my dad sent me to find Hunter, I also found me?
I know I should be worried that I’m in my office—in the conference room—and being totally unprofessional, but it’s so damn easy to get lost in Hunter.
In his touch. In his humor. In the way he makes me think about things other than the day-to-day. In the way he makes me feel.
My body heats from his touch, despite it only being hours since I slid out of bed beside him to come to work.
It’s only when his hand tries to slip inside the waistband of my slacks that I push my hands against his chest to stop him. “Whoa, tiger.” I laugh and press one more kiss to his lips. “Not here.”
“Just trying to make sure you’re holding up your end of the bargain,” he says and wipes a thumb over his lip in case any of my lipstick transferred.
“My end of the bargain?”
“Mm-hmm.” His eyes say he wants to devour me. “My LumberJacks gear?”
I laugh and take a step back. “Perhaps.” I’m acting coy on purpose, because playful Hunter is always so much fun.
“Perhaps?” he asks.
“Maybe you’ll just have to wait and see when I get home tonight if I have my Jacks panties on.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“What if I have a way to let you out of your end of the promise.” He angles his head to the side and studies me, humor mixed with mischief on his expression.
“I’m thinking I’ll wear the panties.” I sit on the top of the desk behind me. “I never trust someone who changes a deal midway through.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” What in the world is he getting at?
There’s that slow smile again that tugs on every part of me. “You’re an agent. You know full well that negotiations shift. Change. Realign.”
“Should I worry about what exactly it is you want to realign?”
“More like I want the terms to change.”
“You’re talking in circles, Hunter,” I tease, and his grin widens.
“Good thing you’re familiar with how to follow circles.”
“True.”
But he is talking in circles and it’s making zero sense.
“What is it you want now?”
“You.”
Thud. My heart on the floor.
“Oh.” I don’t hide the shock or the stupid grin on my face from his unexpected comment. “In that case . . .” I grab the sides of his shirt as he takes a step toward me before framing my face and dipping down so he can meet my eyes. His are intense and alive with emotion.
“In that case?” He brushes his lips over mine.
“New terms accepted. Negotiation successful.”
He laughs as I pull him against me, wrapping my arms around his waist. He rests his chin on top of my head and I revel in the feel of him and the knowledge that he’s all mine.
Who would have ever thought I’d say that about the only man who ever truly broke my heart?
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Dekk,” he murmurs, his chin moving on the crown of my head. “Scary, I know.”
“About?”
“Things.”
“Like?”
“My career. My life. What I want from it.” He leans back and our eyes meet again. “All of this—the clarity, your belief in me, you pushing me, the Cup—has me looking at things in a different light.”
“I don’t see how I had anything to do with that.”
“How can you say that?” he asks. “You heard what your dad said. That it’s your belief in me that allowed me to be my best me.”
“I was just doing my job.”
“No, you were being you.” Those lips of his meet mine again in a kiss that lacks intensity but is loaded with tenderness. “I’m madly in love with you, Dekker Kincade. Maybe I always have been, but you helped me see the me I had lost. You allowed me to be the me who had hope. You allowed me to tell my darkest truths and instead of walking away, you held on tighter. You loved the me I hated.”
“And I love the you that you now love too.”
“I know.” Tears well in his eyes, but he blinks them away just as quickly as they appear.
“If there’s one thing I learned with everything, it’s your next tomorrow is never guaranteed. I don’t want to miss any tomorrows with you. I think we should take the next step. I think we should move in together and start building that tomorrow and the day after that and the week after that together.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He laughs. “I’m getting confused where my toothbrush is and whether I’m coming or going from your house or mine. It’s so much easier if I know I get to come home to you at the end of the day. That’s all that seems to matter anymore.”
“Says the league MVP.”
“Exactly.” He squeezes my hand. “We never made a bet on what I’d get if I won MVP and I did . . . and so”—he shrugs—“cohabitation.”
“Cohabitation?” I laugh.
He nods. “I know I’ll screw up. I know I’m stubborn and frustrating and will sometimes shut you out when all you want is to be held close . . . but I can promise you I want to do right by you. For you. For me. For us. I want to make this work because Christ, I’m miserable without you.”
“But you haven’t been without me for a while now.”
“Exactly,” he repeats, his voice softening, “because you’re where I want to be.”
I’m having trouble swallowing over the love that his words create, wrapping around my soul and taking root.
“Hunter.”
“Don’t cry.” He wipes my tear that slips over. “No more tears.”
“Just tomorrows.”
His smile returns. “Just tomorrows.”
I’m not sure how long I stay wrapped in his arms, settling into this idea of getting to wake up every morning next to him and getting to kiss him every night—but it’s not a hardship to accept.
Not by a long shot.
There’s a knock on the door and we jolt apart like kids getting caught.
“Dekk?” My dad peeks his head into the conference room.
“Yeah?” I pull the door open all the way.
“Can I have my client back now? You’re messing up my schedule.”
“What do you mean your client?” I look from my dad to Hunter and his stupid, wide grin and laugh that vibrates, then back to my dad.