Page 63 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

I pulled the newly framed sketch out of my bag while I watched Henry sleep. I should have just given it to Miles before he walked out the door after tucking Henry in, but embarrassment had won out. Maybe I should keep it. Except I had promised Miles I would give it to him.

I skimmed the glass with my fingers. “What do you think, Sophie?” I whispered to no one but me. I gazed at her sleeping angel. Henry was holding onto George, his teddy, and every once in a while, he smiled in his sleep. Oh, how I loved him. “I hope you don’t mind how much I love your son,” I spoke to Sophie again.

I stood up, half convinced to go home and put the framed photo in my room, but I swore I heard Sophie say, “They need you.” I froze in place. I never heard voices until I took this job. It was probably all in my head, maybe even wishful thinking. I didn’t want to admit how many times I had thought about the embraces Miles and I had shared last week. The connection I felt with him was both disconcerting and wonderful. I think he felt it too and it was why he was staying away from me. It was the right and smart thing to do. That settled it. I was going to the cottage.

I kissed Henry’s smooth brow before heading for the door. I was startled when it opened.

Miles’s hand flew to his chest. Apparently, I’d startled him too. “I didn’t realize you were still here,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, I was just leaving.” I nonchalantly shoved the frame in my bag. As hard as I tried to be sneaky, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Miles stared at my bag. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Um . . .” I stared at him in the glow of the hall and Henry’s night light. “What do you think it is?” Maybe in the semi-dark, he hadn’t gotten a good look.

He bent his head as if to wonder if I’d lost my mind. The answer was yes, I had. Working for him had been my undoing.

“My picture,” he responded.

“I’m not sure it’s complete.”

His mouth twitched up. “Then why did you frame it?”

“To see how it would look,” I said as if it were obvious.

He held out his hand. “I’d be happy to offer my opinion.”

I wasn’t ready to give in yet. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

His left brow raised. “I could ask you the same question.”

He got me there, but I was ready to respond. “I love to watch Henry sleep. It reminds me that there’s good in this world.”

Miles rested his hand on the door frame, drawing himself closer to me. “Sophie used to say the same thing. And as crazy as it sounds, I’m here because of her. I swore I heard her tell me to check on Henry. I must be going bonkers.”

Him and me both. “I think it’s sweet. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Good night.”

He gently grabbed my arm. “Not so fast.”

Yep, his touch still made my body zing.

His gaze held mine. “You still didn’t give me my picture.”

I supposed I hadn’t. I resigned myself by reaching into my bag and slowly pulling out the driftwood frame that I thought would go well in his office.

Miles took it from me, probably afraid I would change my mind and shove it back in my bag. He let go of me and cradled the sketch of his sister rocking her little boy who eternally slumbered in her arms. Miles ran his fingers repeatedly over the glass. “It’s lovely,” there was a hitch in his breath.

He had me tearing up. “I’m happy you like it. I also wanted to say thank you for being so kind to Chloe and me.”

His head lifted. “Why would you think you need to thank me for that?”

I pressed my lips together, not sure what to say. “I don’t know,” I answered, flustered when nothing came to mind. “I’m going to go.”

“Aspen, please don’t.” He stepped closer, too close. “You don’t need to thank me for treating you how you deserve to be treated. It is I that should be thanking you. Not only for the picture, but for how well you take care of Henry and me.”

“You’re welcome,” I whispered. “Good night.” I had to leave before I got lost in his eyes. Before I suggested he embrace me to show his thanks. Yes, that’s how much I missed being in his arms.

“Good night,” he sighed.

I sidestepped him and walked out the door. Before I made it to the stairs he came after me.

“Chloe is at your parents’ tonight, correct?”

“Yes, why?”

“What are your plans?” he rushed to say.

“Wine and Netflix,” I admitted.

“Would you like some company?” He shifted his feet.

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