Page 37 of Inevitable
She shook her head. “You should change that. Everyone needs time to recharge. I can’t believe we haven’t covered this before now.”
“You’re one to talk, Little Miss Workaholic.”
“I am not!” She laughed, nudging me with her elbow.
“Hey! Ouch.” I grabbed her hand and trapped it in the crook of my arm.
She struggled to break free, her breasts brushing against my arm. “Geez. You’re strong. And I’m not. A.” She grunted, attempting to free herself as I laughed and tried to ignore the way she writhed against me. “Workaholic.”
“You’re not?” I teased, finally letting her escape with an exasperated grunt. “All this talk of helping your clients reclaim their time so they can live their purpose. Yet you’re working full-time at the Wolfe Group, plus building your coaching business, volunteering, and god knows what else.”
“I’m happy. Fulfilled.” She smiled, straightening her shirt. “This is the current season of my life, and I’m enjoying it. It won’t always be like this. One day, hopefully, I’ll get married, have kids. And I’ll be juggling work and being a mom. Not now,” she added, perhaps noticing my grimace. “Does that surprise you?”
“No. I think you’d be a great mom.” I wanted kids, but I always put it off for someday. At the rate I was going, someday would never come.
“I think you’d make a great dad,” she said. “You were always so gentle and caring with me.”
And now I cared for her for a different reason. My throat tightened, my drink sloshing in my stomach.Fuck. I’m so messed up.
“Did I—should I not have said that?” she asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m just not sure fatherhood is in the cards for me.”
“Not unless you make it a priority. Have you thought any more about your dream life? Was being a dad part of your vision?”
“I—uh—” I tugged at the collar of my shirt. “I never really thought about it. I was more focused on my professional goals.”
“I think that’s part of the problem. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem to define success only as it relates to things—money, houses, cars—not people or relationships. If you want to be happy, you need to look at the bigger picture.”
I sat back in my chair, but she wasn’t finished. “Unless you think a family is something you should want but don’t actually desire.”
I didn’t answer, not even sure what I’d say. And she didn’t push. We talked a while longer, until she yawned a second time, and I knew it was time to get her home. I texted the driver our location then paid the tab. She slid into the back seat, and I joined her, my thigh pressed against hers. I didn’t move even though there was plenty of space.
She was quiet during the drive, and when she started to nod off, I shifted my shoulder lower so she could rest against it. Her body was warm against mine, her scent infiltrating my nose. Her arm fell, her hand landing on my thigh, and my heart sped up as I held my breath. But when she moaned my name softly, I stilled.
Was she dreaming about me?
I almost hoped for more traffic to prolong our time together. But we didn’t have far to drive, and when we pulled up to the hotel, she roused. She dragged her feet, exhaustion evident in her features as we made our way to the elevator. Once inside, she sagged against the wall.
“Tonight was nice,” she said around a yawn as the elevator ascended to our floor. She smiled, and we stared at each other for a beat before she glanced away, severing the contact.
“It was.” I kept my hands tucked behind my back.
I wanted to cross the elevator and kiss her. I wanted to back her into the corner and have her panting in my ear as I made her come. But when the elevator doors opened to our floor and she didn’t move, I grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the exit.
“Come on, sleepyhead.”
“I’m—” Another yawn. “Notthattired.”
“You were practically snoring in the car,” I teased, though I kept thinking of how she’d moaned my name. I was still wondering if I’d imagined it.
“Was not!” She nudged me with her elbow, but I grabbed it and pulled her into my side.
She let out a little squeak, and I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You and those damn elbows.”
“It wasn’t undeserved,” she taunted, attempting another jab with her elbow, but it came off as more of a chicken dance.
I wrapped my arms around her, caging her in just as we reached her door. “Sumner,” I growled. “You’re playing with fire.”
