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“What time do you think you will be home?” I ask him turning to face him.
He pushes a stray hair behind my ear and smiles. “I’ll be home before dinnertime.”
“We sound so domestic right now,” I say with a laugh.
“Well, Mrs. Addison, I don’t know about you, but I sort of like it.” He leans down and kisses the tip of my nose, then moves his head and lightly kisses me. We’re holding hands and I press into him briefly, still aware of where we are—I pull back before we get carried away again.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he whispers, his forehead leaning against mine.
“Tonight.” I reply.
He squeezes my hand and we pull apart.
“Don’t get lost in the city, don’t talk to strangers, and don’t go marrying another random stranger!” he teases.
MAXWELL
I don’t know what is happening to me.
Since officially meeting Peyton, I haven’t been the serious, business-driven hardass that I normally am.
I don’t let up while at work, but I am a little more understanding of my assistant not completing a task than I normally would have been.
And for once, I pay attention to the time and look forward to going home.
Because I have someone to go home to.
I’ve never had someone waiting for me when I get home from work. I’ve never had someone that I worry about if I would be late. And I’ve never made it out of the office before six in the evening.
It’s five-forty-five when I walk into my condo, and it feels different than when I normally come home.
My home actually feels like a home, with the lights on and a delicious smell wafting in the air. This type of thing, hasn’t happened for years—I’d almost forgotten what it was like. I place my laptop bag and keys on the island and see Peyton standing in front of the stove stirring absently in the pot, with her other hand petting the top of Scout’s head as he sits loyally by her side, hoping for her to drop some food. The dog pays me no attention, which means she must have used her witchcraft on him too. I walk up behind her and kiss her on the neck. She cranes her head away as I lay another kiss just below her ear.
Scout’s tail wags as I also reach down and pat his head. There’s so many new developments happening right now, that I feel like I’m in an alternate universe—something that I could get used to.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” I ask.
“I’m making Bolognese. How was your day?” she asks.
“It went by pretty quick, but it was good. I liked having the lunch break away from the office, that’s something that I could get used to.”
“Yeah? Where do you usually eat lunch?”
“If I’m not schmoozing new clients, which is still considered work and we talk more than we eat, I’m eating at my desk.”
“You know that isn’t healthy, you should take time away from your desk.”
“Yes, mom.”
“Ew, don’t call me that.” She playfully swats me.
“Yeah, that’s pretty gross, the things that I want to do to you, are disgusting things to do with your mother.”
“The things you want to do to me?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“You have no idea.” I growl.
We haven’t taken the relationship that far yet, and I’m letting Peyton be the one to guide how fast or how slow we go. We’ve done a lot of kissing, and a little bit of grinding, but all of our clothes have stayed on so far.
