Page 157 of Square Deal

“Who says it has to be part-time?” I asked as I laced our fingers together.

She looked up at me and chewed on her lip. I saw the wheelsturning. The nerves shadowing what she wanted to say. “Isaac, I love you, but I love my life here too. I’ve worked hard to get where I am in my career. I just—I don’t want to be a trophy wife. I’ve tried so hard not to turn into my mother. I’m not a pretty thing to be kept on a shelf. Wedding planning might not seem like much?—”

“Listen to me,” I said, lifting her ass onto the edge of her desk. “We’re going to talk, then we’re going back to your house, and I’m going to make slow, sweet love to you. Clear?”

…And then fuck you until kingdom come.

She nodded profusely. “Yes, please.”

I wrapped my arms around her thigh and hips and rolled the seat closer. “I will never ask you to give up your life here. I don’t expect you to give up your career either unless you want to.” I searched her eyes to make sure she was tracking with me. The quirk of a smile at the corner of her mouth told me she was pleased. “But you always have a few months over the winter when things are slow, and then a break in July and August when it’s too fucking hot in this damn state to do anything.”

Hannah giggled.

“So, I’m gonna propose a new deal, Princess,” I said as I stood up. “One I think you might like.”

Hannah hopped off the desk, her high heels clicking against the floor. I settled my hands on her hips.

“Your home becomes our home. I kinda like it. We’ll get some advice from Maddie and Luca on how to do the whole work-travel-life balance thing. You’ll have to teach me how to two-step, so I can fit in at Jokers.”

“I’ll take you boot shopping.” She grinned.

“And in the off-season, we do holidays at our place in Manhattan, or wherever in the world you want to go. You can travel with me when you have time off, but I promise you—Beaufort will always be home. And when we’re ready, we’ll do it right. Rings, wedding cake, champagne–all of it.”

Her lip quivered.

Shit. Had I done this wrong?

“Han—”

“I just gave you an out,” she said quietly. “I told you I was okay with just dating.”

I smiled. “I know a bad deal when I hear it. I want all of you. Always. I love you too much to walk away again.”

37

HANNAH JANE

My back slammed into the front door. I spun and dug frantically through my purse for the house key.

“I lied,” I choked out as Isaac kissed up and down my neck. I fumbled the key into the lock.

“Spit it out and get in the damn door, Princess,” Isaac barked as he unzipped my skirt.

“I don’t want you to make love to me,” I said as I stumbled inside, dropped my handbag, kicked off my shoes, and climbed Isaac like a tree.

He kicked the door shut as he tore my blouse and yanked my bra cups down.

“Bang me like a screen door in a hurricane.”

Isaac grinned. “Hell yes, ma’am.”

We ran up the stairs and collided against the wall. Minimalist art and potted plants crashed to the floor, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. “I need you right fucking now,” I said, as I grabbed his tie and pulled him into my—our—bedroom.

I beelined for the bed, but Isaac grabbed me by the wrist and hauled me in front of my full-length mirror.

“Strip,” he ordered.

I shirked off my torn blouse and shimmied out of my skirt. He made quick work of my bra, and I stepped out of my panties. Isaac stood behind me, fully dressed, and held my back against his chest.

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