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"Josie," I murmur. I cup her cheeks, looking into the sapphire depths of her eyes. "Stop," I breathe.

Her eyes widen; she starts to pull back. "I'm sorry, I—"

I press a finger to her lips. "Don't be sorry. It's just… too much right now." I fight desperately to steady my breathing, to dampen the heat surging inside me. I flounder to grasp onto something. "We need to talk about this first," I whisper.

She nods, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Then can I take you home, Boss?"

11

Josie

Florence cuts me a piece of the chocolate mousse from the fridge and pours me some whisky before we sit down at the dining room table to get down to business. I glance around her home. It has a more lived-in feel to it than it did when I was here before.

"You don't want a drink?" I ask curiously as she passes me the whisky. I don't want to make her uncomfortable drinking if she isn't. I already overstepped a line at the pizza place an hour ago.

She grabs a Goose Island beer and pulls a chair up opposite me. "Let's continue with the list Hettie left for us. We agreed that the major events you attend with me don't count toward your companion time—they're too impersonal. Then, at least twice a month where we deliberately try to be seen."

"Right. That benefits both of us," I say. "And then one more time every week where we do something quiet. Stay in." I pause, feeling ridiculous. It's like negotiating a friendship. These things never last. "What about an exit strategy? Are we going to have abig public breakup or keep it quiet?" I know she'll need an out when the time comes. She needed one at dinner.

"You're already planning the exit?" she asks wryly.

"More of a priority for you," I say softly. "I got the feeling I made you uncomfortable at dinner. You need an out. And I need to know your boundaries. I already told you—I'm fine with whatever happens."

"I wasn't ready," she says, meeting my eyes. "The last time I saw you, you walked away from me. Remember?"

Like I could forget her cutting down her own assistant.

"I thought we'd eat dinner and talk about all this after. I didn't expect you to kiss me like that."

"You really—" I stop myself. "I'm sorry. I should have asked. Marin gave me the impression that you'd vetted a few other women, and I was the most suitable. I thought it was already decided." I push my whisky away. I don't drink and drive, and it's obvious she doesn't want to be with me right now. I pick up my fork instead.

"You are the most suitable." She sighs softly. "You did ask, and I gave permission. I just didn't expect—" She takes a long swig of her beer. "I didn't realize you'd be such a good actor."

I release an inaudible sigh. "Florence, you look good for a woman over forty." I try to hide my amusement, but I think she sees it. "How am I supposed to kiss the hot woman that I'm planning to marry?" I wink at her.

"You don't have to do this, you know."

I roll my eyes. "You make it sound like I'm signing my life away. It's not a hardship to go out with a beautiful woman once in a while. I think I can handle it." When she frowns, I point out, "You don't need to do this either. Or we can agree to no kissing. Tell me your boundaries and we'll stick to them. Even then, you can always tell me no."

She shakes her head. "You're fine. We were talking about an exit strategy," she says, returning to the task at hand. "I expect the chatter online to die down quickly. Woodhouse would make more of an ass of himself if he pushes the issue. He'll let it go. Let's play it by ear. I'd prefer no drama, but as long as we keep our story straight, it'll be fine. We'll make it amicable. Quiet. No ruining each other's reputations."

"Sounds fair. What if you want to terminate early? I can't see myself interested in anyone that soon—even kissing you tonight, I was thinking of Mel. But if you find someone, we'll keep options open. I don't want to get in the way of you finding the right woman."

She scoffs. "I don't have time for anyone, anyway. But we can write a clause for early dismissal, just to be thorough."

I nod.

"Boundaries," I bring up again. "I need to know what you're comfortable with." I won't initiate anything physical again.

She studies me for a long minute. "Will you stay for a little while? Just to relax and get to know each other."

"Boundaries," I repeat. "I'll stay for an hour if you tell me where your boundaries are."

She bites the inside of her cheek. "Whatever would be appropriate in the setting we're in. Touches, kisses—that's all fine. There might be settings that more is expected. We'll handle those as they come." She takes a bite of the mousse, closing her eyes briefly in pleasure, then chases it with a long swig of her beer. "What you did tonight was fine. I just wasn't prepared for it. We just got our wires crossed."

"Okay. But if I cross a line, tell me."

"I did, Josie." She gives me a pointed look. "And I will." She sobers. "One more thing. Feelings. What happens if someone develops them?"