I stepped out from my hiding place, trying to smile naturally. “Surprise.”
His whole face transformed, lighting up in a way that made him look years younger. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you,” I said, surprised to find it was the absolute truth. “Thought I'd come see whether the boss is doing his bossing.”
He strode toward me, pulling me into his arms like we'd been apart for weeks instead of hours. “Mmm, I like this surprise,” he murmured, pressing his lips to mine.
I melted into the kiss, wondering if it would be our last before he knew the truth. When he finally pulled away, he kept his hands on my waist, studying my face.
“Everything okay? You seem... off.”
I shook my head, forcing brightness into my voice. I wanted to preserve this moment, this day, his happiness. Just a little longer. “Just tired. Last night was quite a workout.”
His smile turned wolfish. “Happy to provide exercise anytime.”
“I bet you are.” I looked around and noticed it was rather quiet. “So, slow day?”
“It’s tax filing season,” he sighed, leading me inside and closing the door behind us. “But now that you’re here, the numbers can go fuck themselves so I can fuck you.”
I laughed, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Are you always this smooth with the ladies, Mr. Ajello?”
“Only my wife.” He pulled me back into his arms. “Especially when she shows up looking so damn beautiful, I can't think straight.”
His mouth found mine again, harder this time, more demanding. I responded with equal fervor, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. Maybe I was trying to memorize the feel of him, the taste of him, before everything changed. I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t want the moment to end.
“Lock the door,” I whispered against his lips, surprising myself.
His eyes darkened. “Here? Now?”
“Unless you have another meeting...”
He was at the door in seconds, turning the lock before striding back to me. “Cleared my schedule,” he growled, lifting me onto his desk with strong hands. Papers scattered to the floor, but he didn't seem to care as he nudged my knees apart, stepping between them.
“What's gotten into you?” he asked, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my dress higher.
I didn't answer, just pulled him down for another kiss. I didn't trust my voice not to break, didn't trust myself not to confess everything if I started talking. So, I let my body speak instead.
Later, after we'd christened his desk and then, for good measure, the leather couch against the wall, we sat together, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me.
“Not that I'm complaining,” he said, his voice lazy with satisfaction, “but what was that about?”
I snuggled closer, breathing in his scent. “Do I need a reason to want my husband?”
The word still felt strange in my mouth. Husband. Somehow, along the way, that's what he'd become.
“No reason needed,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “In fact, how do you feel about heading back home? I need to change into something more comfortable, and say, we could get dinner after, maybe catch a movie? I can't remember the last time we went out like that. Just the two of that.”
My heart squeezed painfully. There was nothing normal about any of this. About the secret I was keeping, about the truth he didn’t know. “I'd like that.”
He stood and gave me his hand. “Then let’s go.”
I couldn't tell him. Not today. Not when he looked at me like that, all excited like a little puppy for a movie and dinner. Tomorrow, I decided. I'd tell him tomorrow.
The drive home was a blur. Gastone tried to make conversation, but I could barely focus on his words. All I could think about was the envelope waiting for me, and what I had to do.
Back in the apartment, I went straight to the bedroom, dropping onto the edge of the bed. Before I could change my mind, I pulled open the drawer and took out the envelope. I needed to look at everything again, to be absolutely sure before I told Gastone.
Just as I was about to open it, I heard his voice.
