Page 139 of Boss of Me

“Smart woman.” He leads me outside and into the garden, swinging our joined hands between us as we walk down a stone path, savoring the fragrant blooms everywhere.

“My foundation is hosting our annual scholarship awards ceremony next month,” he says casually. “Will you go with me?”

I stare at him, my heart thumping hard. “You . . . you want to go public with our relationship?”

His mouth twitches in a wry smile. “That ship has already sailed, hasn’t it?”

Wincing at the reminder, I mutter under my breath, “Thanks a lot, TMZ.”

Gunner chuckles, lifting my hand to his lips. “I don’t care what the tabloids say about us. All that matters is the way we feel about each other. I want to be with you, Marlowe, and I’m more than happy to let the whole damn world know it.”

His words bring a lump to my throat. “Wow.”

He brushes his lips across my knuckles. “So will you be my date for the ceremony?”

I beam at him. “I’d be honored.”

His slow, pleased smile knocks the oxygen from my lungs. I’m so crazy about this man, completely head over heels.

As we come around the side of the house, we can see his father and Mrs. Calder through the sunroom windows. They’re sitting close together on the couch, sharing a quiet laugh.

The scene makes me smile. “They’ve been there all morning. Guess they had a lot of catching up to do.”

“Guess so,” Gunner murmurs.

We spy on the pair for a few moments.

“They love each other,” I say softly. “Not just as friends. They’re in love.”

“I know.”

I look at Gunner. “You do?”

He nods. “I didn’t always. As a kid, all I knew was that Mrs. Calder was my father’s closest friend. She made him laugh like no one else, and she didn’t take any shit from him. Watching them interact was always entertaining.”

“I bet,” I say with a grin. “I got a taste of it this morning. I love the way her East Texas accent comes out when she talks to your dad, and it’s so adorable the way he calls her Gemma Louise.”

Gunner chuckles as we resume walking hand in hand. “Maverick and I loved visiting her every summer. She was warm and nurturing, fun to be around. Sometimes we wished our mother was more like her.”

That doesn’t surprise me at all, but I keep the thought to myself. “Did she and your mom get along?”

“They were never friends, if that’s what you mean. They treated each other cordially, but every now and then Mom would make snide comments about Mrs. Calder, which gave me theimpression that she wasn’t too thrilled about her friendship with Dad. And I’ve always suspected that she got a cat simply because Mrs. Calder had one.”

“Really? Was she jealous of her?”

“Probably,” Gunner admits. “She rarely came with us when we visited Bullsboro, but I just figured she hated the town. Which she absolutely did. She called it a backwoods hellhole and a few other choice names I won’t repeat.”

“Ouch.” I give him a rueful sidelong look. “So when did you figure out that your dad and Mrs. Calder were in love? Did something happen between them?”

“No. They never had an affair or anything like that.” Gunner plucks a pink blossom from an overhanging branch and tucks it into my hair. We stare at each other as the late summer breeze washes over us, warm and scented with flowers.

“Mrs. Calder was happily married,” he continues. “Though her husband was on the road a lot, she never would have cheated on him. And Dad, to his credit, cared about her too much to disrespect her marriage.”

“That’s good,” I murmur.

Gunner nods. “Five years ago, shortly after she came to live with me, we threw a big backyard birthday party for her oldest grandson. At one point, I went inside to take a phone call. That’s when I saw Dad and Mrs. Calder in the kitchen. They were hugging, which wasn’t unusual. What stopped me in my tracks was the look on their faces. Pain. Regret. Yearning.” He shakes his head slowly. “I stood there staring at them, and in that moment, everything crystallized for me. Suddenly I understood why Mom felt so threatened by their friendship, why she refused to let Mrs. Calder be our godmother. Suddenly I realized that my parents’ marriage never really stood a chance, because Dad loved Mrs. Calder and always would. If she’d joined himin Houston all those years ago, he wouldn’t have resorted to marrying a pampered debutante he wasn’t compatible with.”

“Wow,” I whisper, trying to absorb everything I’ve just heard. “That’s so heartbreaking, Gunner.”