Page 84 of Think Outside the Boss

And the words keep coming.

“I know every day that they’d do a better job, too. I know I’m a replacement. Being the best father to Joshua is something I’ll fail at.” I rest my head on top of hers, scenting floral shampoo and Frederica. “You came over for heat, and you got this heaviness instead.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she responds. “I don’t mind heaviness, Tristan. And I enjoy getting to know you better.”

My eyes drift closed at the words. Innocent, simple words, but they haven’t been spoken to me with sincerity for years. I wonder if they ever have.

Her hand drifts to the nape of my neck and fingers slide into my hair. Touch for touch’s sake.

“My last relationship ended when I adopted Joshua,” I admit.

Freddie’s fingers still for a moment, but then they plunge deeper, nails raking softly over my scalp. “Hmmm,” she says. “I imagine it was a difficult time.”

“I wasn’t a good partner in the months after Jenny and Michael died. And she… well. She apologized for it, but she wasn’t ready to become a stepmother.” I close my eyes, wondering at how a simple touch can feel so good. “I can see now that she wasn’t in it for the right reasons.”

Freddie makes another humming sound, shifting closer. Seconds later and her lips brush softly against the edge of my jaw. “The right reasons,” she repeats. “What are the wrong ones?”

“Money, prestige. Status.” I give a shrug. “Jenny never liked her.”

“You told me that’s why you go to the Gilded Room parties.”

“Mhm, so I did. At a time when I wanted to distract you.”

She smiles. “It was appreciated. And remembered.”

“Clearly.”

“You said at least women want you for your body there.”

I close my eyes at my own words reflected back at me. “Lovely sentiment.”

Freddie chuckles, and I shift us so she’s in my lap, knees on either side of me. The soft fabric of her sweater has ridden up and my fingers brush against the skin of her lower back.

“Tell me,” she insists, her dark hair falling forward like a curtain. “Do you think you could live without them?”

“Without the Gilded Room parties?”

“Yes. They’re fun, and I understand that they provide… thrilling entertainment, but… is it really want you want?”

My fingers dig deeper into her hips, hearing a question she hasn’t asked. A question I haven’t asked.

One that hovers close to defining what we are.

“No,” I murmur. “It’s not what I really want. But I don’t think I’m capable of taking care of what I do want, even if I were to get it.”

Her breath hitches, full lips falling open. But her eyes don’t stray from mine. “I think,” she murmurs, “that you’ve made it pretty clear you never give anything less than your best.”

The air warms between us, her compliment stirring inside me. It forces me to bend my head to her neck and press my lips against the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Her fingers tighten in my hair, a soft sigh escaping her.

And I know I always want to be the man she sighs like this for. The man she confides her fears in. The man she trusts and holds on to.

So I grip her tighter and pull us both into standing.

Her hands slide down my chest. “We’re going somewhere?”

“Yes.” I pull her through the living room, down the hall, passing Joshua’s closed door. Further down to mine.

“Hungry?” I ask her.

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