Page 190 of By A Thread

Swoon.

Yup. I was falling in some serious like here.

Brownie, not wanting to be left out, shoved his face between the seats and slurped at our joined hands.

“We really need to call that dog trainer.” Dominic sighed.

“When we get back,” I promised.

We piled out of the SUV and trooped up onto the porch.

“This is my mother’s place,” he explained, opening the front door. Brownie rocketed inside to sniff everything. “By the way, we both have Monday off too. I cleared it with your supervisor. And the nursing home is happy to provide updates. If your dad is having a good day, they’ll arrange a video chat.”

I shook my head. Dominic the handler. “You know how I feel about being left out of decisions,” I began.

“But?” He gave me a wolfish look as he pulled me into the living space. It had Dalessandra’s stamp all over it. A modern kitchen with quartz and steel that opened into a dining space with a table that could easily seat twelve. The focal point of the two-story living room was the towering stone fireplace. The furniture was deep and overstuffed. There were colorful throws and pillows everywhere.

“But, in this case, I might be okay with it,” I said.

“If you’re still on the fence, allow me to convince you.” He led me into the bedroom off of the living space. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked spectacular snowy mountain peaks and miles of forest. There was another fireplace in here and a grand four-poster bed buried under mounds of winter white linens and pillows.

The bathroom door was open, and I caught a glimpse of marble floors, thick towels, and a huge freestanding tub in hammered copper.

“Wow,” I whispered.

Dom yawned mightily. “I’m going to shower off the plane ride. Make yourself comfortable and be ready to spend the weekend making up for the last week. I had the staff stock frozen peas and Gatorade.” He added the last with a wink.

My heart did that annoying tip-tap thing again, and I waited until I heard the water turn on in the shower before hurling myself onto the snowy peak of bed linens. It took me five minutes in my best impression of a gopher to dig my way under the covers.

Settled under forty pounds of luxury, I pulled out my phone.

Me: How is this my life?

I attached a picture of this room with a view.

Faith: Girl, you soak that up. Also, my view isn’t so bad either.

She’d attached a picture as well. One of shirtless Christian James smiling lazily at her.

I did a little boogie on the mattress.

Me: I knew it. I knew you two would set the bed on fire.

Faith: And my office. And the backseat of his car. Oh, and his studio after you left the shoot Wednesday.

Me: I’m really happy for you.

Faith: Don’t make it weird. We’re just enjoying each other’s nudity.

Me: Don’t rule out non-naked fun with the guy.

Faith: We’ll see. Meantime, Mr. James is crooking his sexy AF finger at me. Gotta go rock his world.

Me: Make good choices!

Faith: I think you and I are both past that.

It was true. I hadn’t had any intentions of starting an actual relationship with anyone, let alone my grumpy boss. Yet here I was. In an “I missed you so I flew across the country and whisked you away to a luxurious mountain retreat” situation.