Page 25 of Secretary's Obsession

Scott paused and arched a brow, hoping like hell he’d not caught him fighting with his demon about cleaning. That would be mortifying.

“I haven’t finished, and I’d much prefer if you stay here with me, if that’s alright with you?”

He gave him such a hopeful, gorgeous smile, Scott’s bottom remained on the chair, his gaze on his blissful one and thoughts of tidying up forgotten at the lovely request. His chest warmed once more, his heart fluttering. “Of course.”

“So, did you have any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?” Scott asked, at a loss.

“Yep.” George used his serviette to dab at his lips. “I like to go watch ice hockey when my team are playing local. I don’t much care for watching it on the TV, you can’t quite get the feel of how rough they get with each other.” He winked at Scott, and went back to munching on his burger, his attention though remained on Scott… waiting.

No one had ever asked about his interests before, so it took a second or three to gather his flustered thoughts. “I love to read and go to second-hand bookshops to see what treasures I can find.”

“That so. Treasures no less.”

Seeing he wasn’t joking at Scott’s expense, and sounded intrigued by his answer, he grinned at George before getting up and walking to his bookcase.

He pulled out a copy of The Reluctant Wolf by Lisa Oliver. He brought back the hardback book he’d found and fawned over because he loved this author's gay romance books. “This book is the first one this author wrote. I have the original, but this is the limited edition hardback. I fell in love many times in the pages of her books. I always wanted a fated mate.”

George came closer but kept his hands away from Scott’s pride and joy, and kissed him firmly. “Seems you got what you wanted.”

Scott tasted the spices from the sauce as he held George’s gaze, his heart running wild in his chest. “It seems I truly did.” And Scott couldn’t find a thing wrong with that, despite the mess surrounding him.

Sometimes, miracles do happen.

You had to spoil it.

No, you just did by not giving me the last word!

Chapter Fourteen

George

“Fucking entitled bastard,” George muttered under his breath as his fare stumbled out of the cab, leaving his pristine new car full of the fumes of the very liquid lunch the man had clearly enjoyed. Door slammers deserved their own version of hell, inGeorge’s opinion—one where they got subjected to automatic slamming doors, landing on their heads every five minutes.

Inhaling sharply and letting the breath out slowly, George checked the time on his dashboard clock. It was only three in the afternoon.Another hour to go until I pick up Scott.George knew a lot of his foul mood was because of his mating.Whoever made up the spiel about mating being a perfect meld of two completely different people hadn’t factored an OCD demon into the mix.

Putting his car into gear, George moved into traffic, just mindlessly following the car ahead of him. He hadn’t flicked his sign to indicate he was available for a fare. Knowing his luck, he’d end up being snagged by some idiot with a dozen bags who wanted to go to the airport, or even the next town over, which had happened the day before. George wasn’t sure what upset him more—the fact he only got a five-dollar tip, or that Scott hadn’t even noticed he was almost an hour late turning up at his work to collect him.

It's not all bad.George wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. His bear was firmly on Team Scott and couldn’t work out why they didn’t just camp in the demon’s office. George knew he couldn’t handle doing that all day, and besides, Scott never mentioned the possibility, anyway.

Scott was up bright and early every morning, his hair perfect, his suit sharp, and ready to leave for the office by eight.

George was more of a “wake up when I feel like it” and preferred to have three coffees before he made his way out of the house in the morning. That wasn’t possible anymore because… of Scott.

To help his bear feel better about their separation, George offered to take Scott to work every morning and pick him up in the evening instead of Scott using Dakata’s driver. It was a compromise.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for Scott’s need to control every aspect of normal dust everyday living incurred. George found himself heading in the direction of his house and decided it would be a good idea to check on his things. There was no way he could have more than three changes of clothing at Scott’s place… and no, George would never consider Scott’s penthouse his home, even though his mate lived there.

He shook his head, remembering a random comment he’d made three nights before about how it would be nice if he could have a few of his things at Scott’s place. His feet were chilly on Scott’s wooden floor, although it was more of a comfort thing than anything else. It’s not that he needed the slippers—it was the principle the slippers represented.

George wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Scott started hyperventilating, immediately running to his closet, trying to work out how he could create more storage to account for George’s items. At the end of an exhausting hour watching Scott basically fall to pieces, organizing and reorganizing more suits than any man needed to have, George physically pulled him away from the closet, got him on the bed and kissed himsenseless. After all that, George ended up with three empty clothes hangers for his clothes.

“It’s not like you need any more clothes,” Scott had said brightly, his eyes still anxious. “I can zap you anything else you need.”

It wasn’t that George wasn’t welcome at Scott’s apartment—he was. Anytime he mentioned perhaps they could stay at his place for a day or two, Scott just shook his head. In his head, George was safer in the penthouse, although George noted—privately, of course—that Scott never seemed to care where he went every day.To the point of not noticing if I’m late.

Parking outside of his house, George felt a pang as he took in the tidy exterior and gardens. He paid one of the local teenagers to take care of his lawns and pull out the odd weed, so from the outside it always looked maintained, even if he was away a week or more.

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