Page 121 of The Playboy

And since the highest-rated steak house was on the opposite side of the island, I’d booked us a night at a hotel nearby so I wouldn’t have to wait the two-hour drive back home to peel this dress off her.

“Then, it looks like I need to fill your closet with more red.”

“Macon …”

I was holding my vodka on the rocks, no mixer or twist—it had just been that kind of workday, where every one of my employees pissed me off. But there was no way my foul mood was going to prevent me from celebrating Brooklyn.

“Don’tMaconme.” I smiled. “You got the job. You signed the paperwork yesterday. We’re here, celebrating you.” I licked across my lips as my stare lowered to her chest, her nipples taunting me in the candlelight. “I don’t see anything wrong with giving you a congratulations present of some red dresses that will look amazing on you.”

She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d gotten in the car this evening. Actually, since I’d shown up in LA for her interview. A grin that had grown when I took her back to my house and filled her with the best food and dessert. A night where she’d given me so much hope about our relationship when she suggested I didn’t need to wear a condom and I didn’t fight her on it.

We were in a good place. We were just going slow.

And now that we’d been back on Kauai for two days, the smile was at its largest.

Brooklyn had gotten everything she wanted, and even though I’d helped move things along, she’d earned the job on her own. Jo and Cooper had been impressed as hell, and HR had signed off.

She finally took a drink and set her glass down. “With the salary I’ve been given, I’ll be able to buy my own dresses.”

She’d been offered a fair and extremely competitive wage, along with bonus incentives based on how much she saved our company.

But I still didn’t expect Brooklyn to buy designer clothes with the money she earned. I suspected she was the type who didn’t give a fuck about designers or even know that the collection of dresses she now had were Dior.

“You certainly will,” I agreed, “but I’m going to add a few pieces I want to see you in. Consider it a gift to me.” I reached into the pocket of my sports coat, pulling out the box. “And this is a gift for you.” I set it on the empty plate in front of her.

“Macon …” This time, her voice was full of emotion and only slightly above a whisper. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Before you open that, I want to tell you a little story.” I took a sip of my vodka and continued to hold the tumbler in my hand.

“When I graduated from college and joined Spade Hotels, my father pulled me aside. He said there are two things anyone can control when they’re starting a new job. The first is your reputation. How you treat others, how you demand respect. How dedicated you are to the job. Maybe a coworker doesn’t end up liking you, maybe your personalities clash, but don’t give them a chance to call you lazy or for them to question your work ethic. In a work environment, your reputation is all you have.”

I paused as the waitress dropped off another round of drinks, and I downed the rest of mine before I handed her the empty.

“The second is punctuality. Neither my father nor Walter tolerates anyone being late. Ever. And when my brothers and I joined the company, he gifted each of us a watch.”

Under the table, I rubbed my leg against hers. “I’m telling you this because it’s your first post-college position, and watching you succeed will mean a great deal to me. Now, I’m not saying this because you’re lazy—you’re far from that. You work full-time, and you’re one hundred percent dedicated to your dreams.”

I swished a breath out of my lips. “But as for your punctuality, I’ve taken care of that.” I winked and nodded toward the box. “Open it.”

“I want you to know something.” Her hands stayed in her lap. “That story you just told me—getting to hear a piece of your past and something so personal to your family—that means more to me than anything.”

“I know, and, fuck, I love that about you.” I held my arm out, lifting the sleeves of my shirt and sports jacket to show her my watch. “I have many at this point—I collect them—but the one Dad gave me will always be the most special.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I know you don’t wear a watch—at least, I’ve never seen one on you.” I lowered my arm. “I want mine to be the first and only one you wear.” Another first to add to the growing list. “When you check the time, I want you to think of me and smile. When you show up to a meeting early, I want that grin to grow even wider. Because, Brooklyn, I’m fucking addicted to your smile.”

Her hands went over her nose and mouth. “You’re the sweetest man ever.”

But I wasn’t. This was just what she brought out in me.

“Open it,” I repeated, “so I can see the expression I’ve been waiting for.”

Her hands slowly dropped, and she lifted the lid of the box, her eyes widening as she took in the white gold Rolex with a bright black diamond-set dial.

“I don’t even know what to say.” There were tears in her eyes as she looked at me.

Whenever I did something nice for her, I got a similar reaction. I made her speechless. But seeing her eyes filled with moisture was new.

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