Page 120 of Anyone But the Boss

He nods, smile still in place. ‘Perfect.’

My sigh has a more dream-like quality this time. Because this – Christmas trees, family gatherings and Thomas Moore – is my life. ‘Yeah, it is.’

‘But I think next year will be even better.’

Laughing, I step around piles of presents back to the sofa. ‘This Christmas isn’t even over yet, and you’re already thinking of next year.’

He picks the tube back up from the couch. ‘Open.’

Wondering what in the world he could fit in a twenty-inch, narrow cardboard tube, I pause. ‘It isn’t a dildo, is it?’ I shake it, remembering the weight of Trusty Thrusty all those months ago, and realize it’s much too light.

I’m rewarded with a trademark Thomas Moore eyebrow lift. ‘Just because Moore’s is now in the sex toy business, does not mean my house will be inundated with dildos.’

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Thomas is still a bit flabbergasted by the overwhelming outcry from Moore’s patrons demanding their own Trusty Thrusty after he placed one in the front window display.

Turns out our customers like their Gucci and Chanel with a side of dick.

Moore’s now has its own sex toy department next to women’s lingerie.

Chase’s business cards now read ‘CEO & dildo runner’. He had some made for Thomas, but he burned them.

‘Yes, sorry.’ I duck my head to keep Thomas from seeing my amusement. ‘Of course not.’

Popping the plastic top off one end of the tube, I slide out a rolled piece of paper. I unfurl it and spread the large paper out on the coffee table in front of us, next to the plate of cookies for Santa.

Blueprints.

‘I don’t get it.’ I squint closer to the page, the lines hard to see under the Christmas tree lights. ‘What’s this?’

If I didn’t know better, I’d think Thomas is nervous by the way his eyes shift to the side and his throat works to swallow. ‘Plans for our new fifth floor.’

I tilt my chin up, staring as if I can see through the ceiling. ‘You’re going to add a floor to the house?’ I’m pretty sure the city will have something to say about that.

‘No, I’m going convert the attic. Which is currently unused.’ He leans forward and taps the paper. ‘This will make it useful.’

Trying to ignore the delicious waft of his cologne, I read the words in the middle of the boxes drawn out on the blueprints that I can now see are rooms. ‘You want to build two bedrooms up there? And a bathroom?’ I frown at Thomas, still not getting it. ‘Why?’

He shrugs, the small movement at odds with his anxious expression. ‘More bedrooms mean more kids we can foster.’

Elvis croons about being home for Christmas. The antique grandfather clocks ticks. My heart beats double time. Everything but what Thomas just said is suddenly crystal clear. Until I feel a tear sliding down my cheek and Thomas’s eyes go wide.

Then the only thing I can think is, ‘You really love me, don’t you?’

My vision blurs, but I see Thomas’s shoulders sag in relief before he gathers me to him, kissing away my tears. ‘Yes, I do.’ Then his lips find mine.

Sinking into his embrace, we make love by tree light, Thomas having perfected couch sex months ago.

And when we’re spent, happy and tear free, Thomas spoons me from behind, both of us enjoying the sight of Christmas before us and the feel of our naked bodies laying together.

‘I take it you like the gift?’ Thomas’s voice rough and still just a touch anxious.

‘Love it.’ Smiling, I twist back to touch my lips to his once more. ‘So much better than a dildo.’

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