Page 3 of On Cloud Nine

Matthew rushes toward me. For the past three years, he’s been my secret office crush, and now he’s looking at me with an intention I’ve never seen before.

Instead of his usual work uniform of trousers and a button-down shirt, a tailored suit hugs his muscular build. He looks good—a weak-in-the-knees kind of handsome.

I ping-pong my panicked gaze between him and the crowd of watchful eyes, trying to comprehend what’s happening. More phones shoot up, recording the scene.

Are the rest of my coworkers watching this train wreck among the crowd? What about my actual friends? I knew I should’ve kept my guest list to family only and saved myself from this embarrassment.

“We didn’t want it to come to this,” Matthew declares as he reaches me. “But it’s time you all knew that Molly and I are in love.”

My soul leaves my body, and it’s as if I’m watching everything from above.

“We are?” I gulp, but the quick turn of his brows makes me rephrase my words into a statement. “We are.”

There’s no way he’s reciprocated the feelings I’ve had for him. Feelings that go beyond our very professional, very platonic friendship.

Gasps fire at us like a round of bullets.

“Impossible,” Lance snaps. The hallway feels like it’s shrinking. “Who even are you?”

“Matthew Hudson,” he says confidently.

“Hudson? Of theHudsonRiver?”

“Uh, n-no,” Matthew stammers, palming his neck. “Just Hudson. I suppose Hudson of Massachusetts.”

“Never heard of them before,” Miranda whispers over her shoulder.

One moment, I’m squished into a doorway, smelling Lance’s Fahrenheit cologne. The next, my coworker’s hand is on my lower back, a place it’s been only once before, a very long time ago. Those dreamy blue eyes sear me.

Matthew Hudson cannot be in love with me. No way.

“Kiss me?” he asks.

“What?” I whisper.

“Trust me.”

“Am I dreaming?” I must be. Because this wholeknight in shining armor confessing his lovething only happens when I’m safely tucked into my bed, reading one of my romantasy books.

Matthew’s head shakes. I am definitely not dreaming.

There’s no time to respond. No time to process.

I connect my lips with his, and I’m officially kissing the charming, gorgeous, and quiet Matthew Hudson. I’ve imagined this for years, but my daydreams do our kiss no justice. I lean into it, memorizing the mint on his breath.

After what feels like an eternity and is somehow all too soon, he pulls away. I stand beneath his watchful eyes, winded and confused.

I try for a calming breath. My lungs fill with vetiver and musk. His scent. Earthy and sensuous.

“Okay, who is this Clark Kent knockoff?” Portia squeals with delight. “And what on earth is he doing kissing our Molly?”

“That’d be nice to know,” Lance agrees.

Around us, bafflement grumbles from the guests. Matthew tucks me under his muscular arm, and my panic ceases.

“This is, um, Matthew.” I yank myself out of my daze. “My coworker…he’s a really successful ecopreneur.” Could this be my escape from marrying Lance? Exchanging one relationship for another? Would my parents even allow it? I have to try. “And…he’s right. We’re in love!”

“For this level of drama, I would’ve worn a better dress,” Emma babbles to her friends.

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