Page 101 of Boss of Me

“Very.” She beams approval.

“I can’t believe I’m holding an actual Zuhair Murad dress,” I exclaim. “He’s a world-famous fashion designer! Celebrities wear his gowns to the Oscars and the Met Gala. You can’t just walk into a store and buy one off the rack.”

“I know,” Mrs. Calder says with a twinkling smile. “Gunner happens to be friends with Zuhair, so he had the dress specially made for you.” She pauses. “That was shortly after you started working here. Make of that what you will.”

I’m positively floored. “How did he even get my measurements?”

“I had them on file for ordering your uniform.” She gives the red dress another once-over, her smile widening with admiration. “Gunner’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you in this.”

I laugh softly as Sansa leaps onto the bench to sniff at pink tissue paper spilling out of a box.

“Thank you for taking such good care of my baby, Mrs. Calder. I’ve been meaning to tell you that.”

She waves off my gratitude. “I enjoy her company. I haven’t had a cat in my life since my Ginger passed away ten years ago. Sansa’s been good for me.”

I smile, touched by her words. “She likes you very much, in case it wasn’t obvious. She follows you everywhere, and she prefers sleeping with you over me.”

Mrs. Calder chuckles, fondly scratching behind the cat’s ears. “She still loves you. She just knows she has to share you from now on.”

My cheeks heat with a blush. I turn away to face the mirror, staring at my reflection for a long moment. “I didn’t want this to happen,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

“Didn’t want what, dear?”

“This . . . relationship with Gunner. I didn’t plan it. In fact, I fought it as hard as I could. But . . .”

Mrs. Calder’s reflection joins mine in the mirror, her eyes soft with understanding. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

I swallow hard, feeling exposed. “Do you . . . do you think I’m making a mistake?”

“A mistake?”

“Getting involved with my boss. Do you think it’s wrong?”

Her expression gentles. “That’s not for me to decide.” She purses her lips, searching my troubled face in the mirror. “What Iwilltell you is that I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s more relaxed and lighthearted—two words no one wouldeveruse to describe Gunner Ransom. He wore jeans to work this week, and the other morning I overheard him whistling while running on the treadmill. I honestly can’t remember thelast time he dropped everything and ran off for the weekend.” Her eyes twinkle warmly. “You’re clearly the inspiration behind his sudden spontaneity, Marlowe. You make him happy, and something tells me the feeling is mutual.”

“It is,” I whisper. “Definitely.”

She smiles. “Then I see nothing wrong with your relationship, and neither should you.” She tucks an arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. “Now you’d better get ready before he comes home. Changed man or not, he hates to be kept waiting.”

I laugh. “So true.”

i’m packed and ready two hourslater when Gunner strides through the front door, casually dressed in a loose white shirt and tan slacks. He’s on the phone, radiating power and impatience as he speaks in a terse tone.

I’m sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. Sansa is curled up in my lap, dozing off and on.

The tension in Gunner’s face seems to soften when his gaze lands on us. As he walks over, Sansa flicks her tail and starts purring shamelessly. He strokes her head while gazing down at me with an approving glint in his eyes. I’m wearing one of the outfits he bought me, a flirty yellow sundress that shows off my bare shoulders and legs.

“I’ll be out of town and unavailable until Monday,” he grits into the phone. “I expect the matter to be resolved before I return. No fucking excuses.” He ends the call and unclenches his jaw, then leans down to press his lips to my forehead. “Sorry about that. We’re having some delays with the expansion project.”

I feel a pang of guilt. “Maybe it’s not a good time for you to?—”

He silences me with a hard kiss, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with mine. As I let out a throaty moan, he threads his fingers through my hair and whispers against my mouth, “I’ve been dying to get you all to myself this weekend. Wild fucking horses couldn’t stop me from boarding that plane with you.”

My stomach flips at his words. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

He kisses me again. “Let’s go.”

We say our goodbyes to everyone and head out the door. While Trace loads our luggage into the car, I slide into the backseat. Gunner climbs in beside me, his hard muscular thigh pressing against mine. The heat radiating from his body burns through my dress and tightens my nipples. I don’t know where we’re going, but when we get there I’m jumping his bones.