Page 86 of Feel It in the Air

“It really is.”

“I know what Percy said to everyone when he told y’all about his decision, but he does have an idea of how he wants it all to play out. Of who he wants to name as his successor. So, I’m fairly confident that I won’t have to step back into the role of interim department head.”

“I thought no one was ready?” I ask, drawing back to a conversation we had on the way to Savannah when I asked why he had to be the one to step in and not someone from our department. Maybe I got it wrong.

“At the time, they weren’t,” he answers, carefully choosing his words. I smile, loving that I get an up-close view into the inner workings of his mind. Gus in CEO mode is impressive, but like this—unguarded and at ease—is something special. “But again, we’ve got a good four to six months to put together a succession plan. But, even if for some reason that person is uninterested and we aren’t able to identify a candidate for his role before he leaves, as far as you and I are concerned, we’ll have already been well established and declared, so it’ll be a nonissue.”

A nonissue. If that isn’t music to my ears.

There’s still a small part of me that is uncertain about how I feel regarding Percy’s retirement and what it all will mean long term. But borrowing that trouble now is not going to solve anything.

“So, you want to be strategic,” I say, tugging on the lapels of his coat, the soft fabric heightening my senses. “What exactly are you thinking?”

“I didn’t say want,” he corrects, poking my side. I wiggle in his arms, biting back a giggle. “I said have to be. If I had my way I would have kissed you in the middle of that meeting this morning. That said, we should probably give it a few days before we rush to HR.”

“Let’s give it the week,” I suggest. “Allow Percy’s return to have some breathing room, and then on Monday we do what we need to do. What’s another week at this point?”

“It’s four days of you eating lunch with my sister instead of me, that’s what.”

“I like having lunch with your sister. How else am I going to get all the good dirt on you?” I lean back, still holding on to him, pretending to try to get away.

Gus smirks, but only for a brief second. That Cheshire cat grin morphs into something a lot more purposeful, his arm tightening around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. Soft, steady lips find mine, capturing them in a kiss. Instantly, I melt into him, losing all my sense. Because this kiss isn’t like any of the others. This one is a statement. I am his. He is mine.

And that’s all there is to it.

It’s over too quickly, the brief, stolen moment slipping away, as we separate, emerald eyes full of love and respect shining back at me.

“There are better ways.” Winking, he steals another kiss, making my knees wobble. “Like Sunday dinner at my parents’ house. If you think Willa is something, wait ’til you meet Miss Belle.”

Wait ’til you meet Miss Belle…

Sunday dinner with the Hayes family. If I thought I was ready to burst before, I was wrong. Now I think I could explode. The only thing I want more than to have dinner with Gus’s whole family is to bring him to New Orleans so he can have dinner with mine. Papa Duck will have a field day cooking for him.

“This Sunday?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. It’s not working though, that Irish jig from earlier today working its way back into my voice.

“Every Sunday. From here on out.”