Page 43 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Good night, Vincent,” I whispered, my voice shaky. Speaking was the only thing grounding me in that moment.

I tried to fight off my exhaustion so I could enjoy the sensation of being pressed up against him, but it wasn’t long before sleep won out.

Best dreams ever.

12

VINCENT

@TrentSaunders I’ve never been happier to lose a round of golf.

@VinForde Weird thing to admit on the social media, bro.

As expected, Piper and Joe dominated the course. I’d started off the game ready to show Piper she wasn’t the only one with skills, but after two holes, it quickly became apparent she was way out of my league. I forced myself to downshift to a casual golf enthusiast instead of a real competitor and spent the eighteen holes laughing with Jean.

Which was surprisingly fun.

I had to pat myself on the back—golf was a phenomenal idea. I wanted the Sullivans to feel good about the business side of our arrangement, but getting them to like me was a part of the bargain as well. While it was easy to assume the contract was a done deal, I refused to assume anything until the ink was dry. But everything truly did seem to be on track for us to sign the papers soon.

The next few days only solidified that feeling. Piper had worked her magic with the Sullivans and, after walking them through how respectful Summit would be of their property, they were on board. I’d already sent word to Summit’s lawyers, and the contract was quickly whipped up. Now all that was left for the Sullivans to sign on the dotted line.

Yet, with the end in sight, part of me almost dreaded the moment. This trip had been a success by every measure, but… I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it to end. In just a few days, Piper and I had fallen into an easy rhythm, spending time together and sharing space in a way that felt natural.

On the morning of the contract signing, Joe insisted we celebrate with one last round of golf, and that’s how the day began. As usual, Joe and Piper dominated the course, and I… I tried to keep my composure every time Piper’s fingers tightened around her club and she settled into her stance.

After lunch at the Sullivan’s golf club, we headed back to Sugarview and agreed to meet for dinner once the sun went down, which meant Piper and I had the rest of the afternoon to do as we pleased.

After that first night I’d spent with Piper’s ass pressed up against my crotch, I had a few X-rated thoughts about what we could do together with our alone time. That first night we’d shared the bed, Piper had fallen asleep quickly, but I’d wound up awake for an hour, breathing her in. Luckily, she was a sound sleeper, because at one point I gave in to temptation and ran my fingertips along her velvety shoulder. The other nights, though, I’d been sleeping outside in the hammock. Piper didn’t protest too hard, and it was probably for the best. The thought of being in bed with her again…

It was almost too much.

The car dropped us off at the main house, and we meandered down the path to our bungalow side by side, each caught up in our thoughts.

“C’mere,” Piper said as she veered off the path through a patch of trees.

As always, I had no idea what she was up to, but I wanted to find out.

She strode to the edge of the heliotrope field and turned to me. “Tell me what it is about this flower that makes it the one for Evermore. What’s so special about this little purple flower anyway?”

I smiled at her. “You really want to know?”

“Well, yeah,” she answered. “It’s the reason we’re here, after all. And there are so many other flowers you could’ve used that wouldn’t require all the hoops we had to jump through.”

I walked over to pluck a stem and held it up to my nose to inhale the magical scent.

“There’s nothing quite like the fragrance,” I said, closing my eyes to take it in again. “And this crop? We struck gold here. I liken it to the grapes grown in the champagne region of France. This soil does something different to the plant. The fragrance is more nuanced.”

Piper fidgeted. “Yes, okay, I agree, but you still haven’t answered my question. There are so many other flower options, why this one specifically?”

I walked the stem over to Piper and held it out to her. “Take a whiff.”

She leaned closer, closed her eyes, and inhaled the aroma. I stole the moment to study her. She was lightly tanned and freckled from our hours on the golf course, wisps of hair escaping from the ponytail high on her head. I wanted to inhale her sun-warmed scent.

“I agree, it smells amazing. But so do lilacs and gardenias.”

“Like I told you at the farmers’ market, there’s a story behind every flower, and this one?” I held the stem up in the air like it was a glass of fine wine. “This one symbolizes devotion and faithfulness. My hope is that I can distill those very elements into Evermore.”

“Aw,” Piper said softly, looking up at me with a little smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “That’s sort of the core of love.”