Page 140 of One More Chapter

“Seven? Excuseyou?”

Her smile lifts lazily, and she cups my cheek.

“Always room for improvement. I think you can pocket the spanking for now.”

“Duly noted,” I chuckle, palming her ass and squeezing. Even still, her eyes pinched closed and she exhales warmly against my chest.

“I think I’m going to do it,” she whispers, content confidence behind every syllable. Pride surges through me.

“You’re quitting teaching?”

Her eyes spark open, and I’ve never seen her shine more brightly.

“Yes. I’ll finish out the year, and then…” She shrugs, but her lips turn up. “PJ Layne takes over.”

“No,” I shake my head, tilting her chin up. “Penelope Barker does. PJ just gets the public credit.”

She presses forward, kissing me soft and lingering.

“I’m proud of you, boss.”

Her smile turns up against my lips, and she pulls away so I can see the clarity in her eyes.

“So um… What happens next?” I ask her.

She doesn’t tense in my arms though. Doesn’t push up and run the other direction. The way that Penelope’s body relaxes into mine at the thought of what is to come puts the bees in my brain to sleep.

“Well…” Pen pushes up, leaning her chin in her elbow and stroking my chin in her other hand. “I need to figure out things with my place. Half of my stuff is there, and half of my stuff is in a storage place?—”

“Move it here. I have the space for it—I have the space foryou. Eliminate the problem of where you have to live, and then we can focus on more important things.”

“Like what? Christening the rest of your place?”

She wiggles her brow, and I press my smile to her forehead.

“Among other things.” I run her long red hair over and through my fingers.

“Speaking of…” she trails off, her gaze now wandering from mine too. “Just to clarify, for my overreactive brain: You are my boyfriend.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“We are exclusive.”

“One-thousand percent,” I nod, capturing her chin in my fingers to guide her eyes back to mine so that she can see that truth written in them.

“Just to clarify,” I whisper, my voice turning a little rusty. “You can come to meanytime you think your brain is overreacting from now on. I guarantee you, it’s not. Tell me when things feel muddy to you so we can work them out together.”

She nods, and by her watery eyes, I can tell I’ve struck a chord.

“You too,” she whispers. “When the bees are too loud, come to me.”

She rests her forehead against mine, and we exhale all of our doubts in tandem.

“Now, we can focus on other things: Deciding what you want to do with your job. Deciding what moves we make next, together.”

“Together,” she smiles. “I like the sound of that.”

fifty-five

---