Page 19 of The Dragon in the Corner Office (Monstrous New York #1)

Chapter 19

M y phone skitters across the bathroom vanity as I apply a final coat of mascara on my lashes. “Shoot!” I hiss when the wand hits my lid, leaving a smudged trail of burgundy in its wake.

Screwing the lid shut, I set the mascara tube in my makeup bag and grab the vibrating phone. My thumb swipes across the screen, answering the call before I stuff my phone between my shoulder and ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, princess.” Cyrus’s husky voice filters down the line, setting my pulse into a frenzy.

Eyes flicking to the mirror, I find my cheeks blushed a rosy red and a dopey smile on my lips. The subtle burgundy of my eyeliner and mascara brings out the gold of my eyes as they twinkle back at me. I almost don’t recognize this happy version of myself, but she’s starting to show up more and more since I let Cyrus into my life.

“Cat got your tongue, Antoinette? Or did hearing my voice take your breath away?” He chuckles.

I shake my head at his lame joke and grab a cotton swab from the container on the countertop. “Asshole. No. I was finishing my makeup, and your phone call made me get mascara all over my eyelid.” Flipping on the faucet, I wet the end of the cotton swab and run it over the dried mascara. There. Good as new. “Are you here already?”

A car door slams, followed by some muffled noises. “Yeah, I’m parked in the visitor spot by the front door. Are you sure you don’t want me to come up? I’m a gentleman, princess. Let me feel useful and carry your bag.”

Makeup fixed, I toss the dirty cotton swab into the trash and grab my makeup bag before turning off the light and entering my bedroom. “I’m a big girl; I can carry my own bag, Cyrus. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“You packed casual clothes, right?”

Rolling my eyes, I toss the makeup bag into my tan-colored weekender tote and zip it shut. “Yes, Cyrus. I do own jeans, you know?”

A pained groan hits my ears. “Fuck, princess. I love seeing you in your boss babe uniform, but I can’t wait to see you in some skintight denim. ”

Turning toward the full-length mirror hanging on the wall, I do a quick spin, smiling when my eyes land on the dark denim hugging my ass. Yeah, he’s going to lose his ever-loving mind. Paired with a cream cashmere V-neck sweater and burgundy ankle boots, I’m the picture of casual—okay, elevated casual. Can’t blame a girl for liking nice things. “How ever will you contain yourself?” I snark, hoisting the straps of my bag over one shoulder and draping my khaki trench coat over my arm. “Keep it in your pants until later. Okay, Wilcox? I want to make a good impression. I don’t need you pawing at me all day.”

In reality, my confidence is at an all-time high under his lingering touches and heated stares.

But I do want his family to like me. He hasn’t told me anything about them, so I have no idea what kind of situation he’s dragging me into.

“I’ll be on my best behavior, Ms. Bauer. Just get your sexy ass down here, because I won’t be held responsible for my actions if I have to come up there.” There’s no real threat behind his words, only the same sarcastic taunt I’ve become all too familiar with over the past few weeks.

“I’m heading down now. Goodbye, Cyrus.” Not giving him a chance to get the last word, I hang up and slip the phone into my back pocket. Making sure all the lights are off, I grab my purse and keys before locking the door and heading for the elevator. All the while, the same dopey, love-struck grin remains securely fixed on my face.

B rilliant crimson and yellow leaves dance across the blacktop as we barrel down the two-lane highway, heading north, away from the city. My eyes are glued out the passenger window, nose nearly pressed against the glass, as I take in the beautiful surroundings. “It’s breathtaking,” I whisper, gaze lingering on the bright red maples lining the roadway.

I’d nearly forgotten how the leaves swoop and flutter, floating on the gentle breeze before landing on the ground.

Normally, I’m the one soaring above the treetops, and any falling leaves are mere specks in my periphery.

“When’s the last time you left the city, princess? You’re acting like a kid in a candy store over there.” He chuckles at my expense, but I’m too wrapped up in the autumnal surroundings and the warmth of his laughter to care.

“I’ll admit, it’s been a while. I don’t lead a very exciting life, so sue me,” I bristle, eyes still firmly fixed out my window.

Lately, every free second has been spent focusing on the O’Malley project and making sure every detail is perfect in preparation for our presentation to the board. I can’t afford to fuck things up and lose this job. I’ve finally made it to the top .

I don’t plan on having it all taken away. No. My plan is to leave on my own terms when I’m finally ready to start my own firm.

Suddenly, a heavy hand lands on my thigh, squeezing until I turn and latch onto his cool gaze. “We’re about to change that. No more weekends at the office. No more nights spent alone. You feel me, princess?”

Throat thick with emotion, I don’t trust myself to speak, so I simply nod and let a smile break free.

“That’s better,” he says. “Happiness looks good on you, Antoinette.”

Heat warms my cheeks, and I pull away from his penetrating stare, content to spend the rest of the journey enamored by the fall foliage. I’ve spent so much of my life hiding or struggling to get to the next rung on the corporate ladder that I’ve forgotten the simple joys—like a scenic truck ride with a boyfriend.

Is that what he is?

Is Cyrus Wilcox my boyfriend?

The word is foreign as it ping-pongs around my brain until I can’t keep it inside anymore.

Slicing my gaze back to him, I blurt my question. “Are you my boyfriend?”

The corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s trying—and failing—to hold back a smirk. Not even a second later, his lips split to reveal a perfect white smile. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend, Antoinette?”

I shrug, looking out the windshield. “I-I guess I never really thought about it. It does feel a little juvenile, though. Don’t you think? I mean, I’m over two-hundred years old and you’re almost forty.”

“Hey! Don’t throw me over the hill quite yet. I’m only thirty-eight. But I don’t look a day over twenty-five.” Dark-blonde eyebrows waggle, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes more prominent in the late afternoon sunlight.

True, he doesn’t look his age, but he sure as hell doesn’t look like a man in his twenties.

Rolling my eyes, I place my hand over his on my thigh. I like the way it feels, to touch him freely and have him do the same. I’ve always craved physical contact, having been deprived of it most of my life. “Age? That’s what you’re hung up on?”

“Okay, okay.” He squeezes my thigh again, and I resist the urge to press my legs together. Seems like every time I’m around Cyrus, there’s a low ache in my core, and I’ve come to crave it. “What if you’re just mine and I’m yours ?”

My brow furrows. Is it really that easy? “Is that enough?”

“Enough? Antoinette, I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the situation yet. Let me help you catch up. I’m in this to the end. I don’t want another woman. I only want you . Forever.” His eyes meet mine, serious and sure.

“You don’t—You can’t mean that?” My stomach twists, tightening with the fear of rejection. My own parents didn’t want me; why would this man? This beautiful, stubborn, arrogant man.

“Let’s get one thing straight, princess. When I say something, I mean it. Don’t try to change my mind. So, you’re mine and I’m yours. Say it back for me.”

And I do. Lacing my fingers with his, I repeat the words and maybe, just maybe, let myself believe them… for now, at least. “You’re mine and I’m yours.” My heart soars, that dopey smile on my face as Cyrus pulls the truck onto a long gravel driveway lined on both sides by rows and rows of apple trees.

Slowing to a crawl, we approach a sprawling white farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a candy apple red front door. Color me intrigued. “So this is where you hide every Sunday.”

Cranking the gearshift into park, Cyrus turns toward me, clasping both of my hands between his much larger ones. His warmth radiates up my arms, straight to my pounding heart. “This is my favorite place because two of the most important people in the world live here. Are you ready to meet my little family, princess?”

The sincerity in his cerulean eyes has me swallowing around a lump in my throat. “Yes,” I whisper, his earlier claiming giving me the confidence I need.

Suddenly, the jokester is back, his face morphing into a lopsided smirk. My panties don’t stand a chance as he swings his door open and jumps out of the truck, calling over his shoulder, “This time, I’m carrying the bags.”

I’m still chuckling by the time I climb out of the truck and make my way to the bed. True to his words, Cyrus has a bag slung over each shoulder and a small stuffed unicorn in his hands that I hadn’t noticed earlier.

The sight of the tiny plush toy has dragonflies breaking free to swarm my stomach.

You can do this, Antoinette. You meet new people all the time for your job. Yeah, but they’re not important to the person I love.

Love?

Is that what this is? Why my heart is ready to rip out of my chest and my armpits won’t stop sweating? Or why I want to be around this man I once hated?

No.

It’s too soon.

I won’t let my brain or my heart fall for Cyrus Wilcox just yet. I won’t give him the power to hurt me again.

“This is the main house, but we’ll be staying in the guest house at the back of the property.” He points to a small cabin barely visible through the rows of trees. “It’s far enough away from the main house to give us a little privacy. I’ll drop our bags there once I introduce you to Maggie and Lily. Ready?” he asks, peering over his shoulder .

I nod and follow him toward the quaint farmhouse. Around us, the leaves rustle in the wind and the birds twitter, soaking up the warm rays of autumn sunshine.

As we approach the porch steps, something in the window catches my eye. A little girl, maybe five or six, has her nose squished to the glass, a beaming smile on her cherubim face. Her blonde hair is pulled into two pigtails, the curly ends bouncing down to her shoulders.

She doesn’t really bear any resemblance to the man in front of me. Who is this sweet little girl?

“They’re here! They’re here!” Her muffled voice meets my ears before she disappears from sight.

The red front door swings open to reveal a petite, curvy woman with the same curly blonde hair and pale-green eyes as the little girl. If I had to guess, this must be her mother.

Cyrus climbs the steps and dumps our bags unceremoniously on the wooden front porch. I stand next to him, awkwardly twisting my sweaty hands in the shoulder strap of my purse. A storm rages in my gut and I’m not sure if I’m going to vomit on my shoes or turn tail and run.

I’ve never been this nervous in my life.

The little girl appears a moment later, arms wrapped around the woman’s hips as she beams up at me and Cyrus. Her little body is practically vibrating with excitement, wiggling against her mother’s side.

I can’t help but smile. Her enthusiasm eases some of the tension within my muscles. I have a feeling I’m going to like this little girl.

“Uncle Cy!” Detaching herself from the woman, the little girl dive bombs at Cyrus. He lets out an oomph when she collides with him, wrapping her arms around his trim waist.

Nerves forgotten, I giggle when he plants one foot behind him, catching his balance before scooping the pint-sized renegade into his arms. “Hi, Lily Bear. Long time no see.”

“It’s only been a week,” she huffs, smashing his cheeks between her little hands. “Is that for me?” Big eyes swing to the stuffed unicorn somehow still clutched in Cyrus’s grip.

He hums, mouth pursing to the side. “I don’t know. Do you know anyone around here who loves unicorns?”

Tugging the toy from his grasp, the little girl squeals. “I do! I do! Thank you, Uncle Cy!”

A throat clears to my left, and Cyrus’s eyes widen. “Oh, right. Maggie, this is Antoinette Bauer.” He sweeps his free hand toward me while keeping the little girl, Lily, tucked safely in his other arm. “Princess, this is my sister-in-law, Maggie Wilcox.”

Sister-in-law? Cyrus has never mentioned a brother. In fact, he hasn’t really mentioned anything about his family. I wonder why .

Remembering my manners, I extend a hand toward Maggie. Subtly wiping the sweat on the thigh of my jeans first because no one likes a clammy handshake. Gross .

A very unattractive squeak falls from my mouth when she blows right past my hand, wrapping me in a warm bear hug instead. The scent of fresh apples wafts off her hair, the curly strands tickling my nose when she pulls back.

Bracing both hands on my shoulders, she squeezes gently and peers up at me. Her voice is soft and gentle when she says, “We’re huggers in this family. Hope that’s okay.”

I nod. “Yes. Yeah.” I’ve never been much for hugs, but Maggie’s arms around me felt right. Like a long-lost friend or sister.

Wide-eyed, I swing toward Cyrus, who smiles and tips his head. Now that he’s side by side with his niece, I see the resemblance. They have the same lip shape, both currently in wide smiles. And, upon closer inspection, Lily’s hair is actually the same dirty-blonde shade as his.

“And who’s this little ball of energy?” I ask, eyes glued to the wiggling child in Cyrus’s arms. From the soft expression on his face, it’s clear he’d give anything for this little girl.

A giggle bursts from her mouth when Cyrus tickles her side, her face turning red as she gasps for air. “This is Lily, my favorite niece.”

Once she’s caught her breath, Lily’s tiny eyebrows pull together, furrowing in the middle. “Momma, are there other nieces?”

Stifling a laugh behind her hand, Maggie’s eyes bounce between Lily and Cyrus. “No, Lil. You’re the only niece. Uncle Cy is just pulling your leg.”

“Not my legs!” she screeches, clutching at her little knobby knees through her rainbow print leggings. “That’s not very nice, Uncle Cy.” The cutest scowl mars her face, and I bite my lip to stop from laughing, because something tells me this is a very serious matter to her.

Pulling her in for a big hug, Cyrus rubs her back, voice soft and sincere. “I’m sorry, Lily Bear. I was only joking. But you are my favorite.”

A gust of wind ruffles my hair, sending a shiver down my spine. Maggie must notice because she picks up my bag and motions toward the door. “Where are my manners? Come inside, and we can get to know each other before dinner.”

I smile, following her inside the old farmhouse. Stuffed toy in hand, Lily speeds ahead, chattering about a unicorn movie she watched last night, and Cyrus trails behind me with his bag slung over his shoulder.

Peering over my shoulder, I smile softly, matching the expression on his face as our eyes meet. Somehow, being surrounded by his favorite people in one of his favorite places, it’s like I’m finally coming home for the first time in my life.