My beautiful angel lay sleeping peacefully, and for the life of me, I didn’t want to leave. Job be damned. If it were up to me, I’d climb back in bed and pull her close until her warm body curled around mine. I’d hold her and love her for as long as she wanted, for as long as she needed. Forever.
Because heaven knew I needed her.
This weekend was one I’d never forget. A turning point in our relationship, so to speak. The love we made was amazing, beyond anything I could have imagined. Uncovering an emotion I never thought possible. Not for a guy like me, which was why I had asked her to move in with me. It seemed like the most natural of progressions, and fuck anyone who thought we were moving too fast. Time waited for no one, and I wasn’t about wasting anymore of it.
And by the end of the month, she could make a clean break on her lease. We’d pack her stuff up and move her into my—our home. On nights I’d be on the road, knowing she was sleeping in my bed would keep me at ease.
With a gentle hand, I pushed her unruly mane to the side. I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and whispered, “I love you.” I couldn’t help it. It was like the dam had broken and those three words were permanently hanging on the tip of my tongue. She’d get sick of me telling her, but I’d remind her every day how much I meant it.
“Hey.” I brushed her hair from her face and she blinked her eyes open. “It’s time. I’ve gotta head out.”
“Okay,” she whispered in a sleepy voice. “What time is it?” She made a weak attempt at popping her head up from the pillow.
“It’s early. Just sleep. You can check out whenever you’re ready, no rush.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her lids fluttered closed and an easy smile graced her still swollen lips. She cuddled into the pillow, and if I didn’t get out of there soon, I was sure I would cement my feet to the floor and not think twice about my teammates and my job waiting for me.
“Call me as soon as you land.”
“I will.” I kissed her forehead one more time and started my trek out of the suite, only to be stopped by her hand grabbing my wrist and pulling me back.
“I love you,” she breathed out, her voice sleepy and sweet. “So much.”
“I love you too.”
“Kiss me before you go.” Her small hand curved around the back of my neck, drawing me in, and who was I to deny her?
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Rowan
What was it about sitting in an airport people watching that was so addicting? Whatever it was, airports were never a dull moment. From the family traveling with their newborn to the couple taking that much needed tropical getaway, the traveler that intrigued me the most was the smartly dressed businessman in the three-piece suit, guessing if he was really flying out on a business trip or using that as his MO for secretly meeting his mistress.
I shook my head at my stupid but possibly very true thought. What I needed to be doing was concentrating on the proposal I had sitting in front of me and making sure the sub-consultant’s terms were agreeable.
I took a sip of my Starbucks and watched some poor dude running from one end of the terminal to the next, speculating if he was headed to the right gate. I shifted my eyes to the papers on my lap and happened to glance at the little blinking light on my phone.
Someone had sent a text.
Spencer: You land yet?
Me: Waiting at the airport.
Not expecting an immediate response, I set my phone on my lap only to pick it right back up.
Spencer: Call me as soon as you land. We need to talk.
Spencer: I’ll come over.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. What was so important that he couldn’t call me?
Me: Should I call you now? I have another hour to kill.
Spencer: No. This needs to be discussed in person.
What the hell!
My fingers started convulsing across the tiny keypad.
Me: Really, Spence! You’re going to do that to me! Leave me hanging!
Me: While flying 35,000 feet for an hour and a half?!
Me: Not cool!!!
I inserted a string of not-so-nice emojis and hit send.
Spencer: Sorry. It’s just better this way.
Me: Whatever!
He knew I hated when people did that.
I rolled my eyes and huffed before tossing my phone in my bag, followed by the six sheets of stapled jargon. There was no way I was getting any work done with a million crazy thoughts racing through my mind. Instead, I’d go back to my cheap entertainment and sip on my latte while trying to figure out why some people didn’t have the common sense to at least match their outfits.
* * *
Spencer was already waiting when I pulled into my driveway. I got out of my car the same time he stepped out of his. We met halfway and then he hugged me, welcoming me home.
“Why are you out here and not inside?” He had a key.
He shrugged. “How was your trip?” His smile didn’t meet his eyes like normal.
“Good. Magical. Best time of my life. Now cut the bullshit, Harris. What’s going on?”
“Let’s go inside, but pop your trunk first. I’ll grab your bags.”
I nodded and grabbed my purse from the front seat. I let Spencer in, tossed my purse on the kitchen counter, and sat at the table.
“Spence, you’re freaking me out. Will you please tell me what’s going on?” I didn’t even offer him anything to drink.
“Relax, will you?” He sat in the seat beside me.
“Don’t tell me to relax. You send me a cryptic text, telling me we need to talk. And you know what that does to my crazy mind. Now spill.”
“It’s actually a good thing.” He didn’t sound so convincing. “Depending on how you look at it,” he added impartially.
“Okay,” I drew out slowly. “If it’s good news, why all the secrecy?”
He cleared his throat, buying a few extra seconds. “Davenport flew down to Atlanta, showed up Friday afternoon after you had already left.”
“Oh?” My frustration quickly turned to unease. Pop-up visits drove me nuts, messed with my sanity. What could I say, old habits were hard to break.
“Yeah, he wanted to talk to you.”
I sat ramrod straight. “About?” This was the second time Mr. Davenport flew to Atlanta, wanting to talk to me. Had Spencer not been so secretive, I might have assumed it was a good thing.
Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, the nervous tension rolling off him in waves. “How are you and Levi doing?”
My brows narrowed. “What do Levi and I have to do with Davenport showing up at the office?”
“Just answer the question . . . please,” he pleaded, his eyes silently asking me to make this easier for him.
“Good. We’re good. Happy. He asked me to move in with him.”
“Shit. I was afraid of that.”
“Spence, you’re losing me.”
He shook his head and sighed heavily.
“You have some choices to make, and from the looks of it, some difficult ones. Remember Davenport mentioning the potential opportunities if you were still with the company?”
I nodded.
“Well . . . there’s been more restructuring.”
“Okay.”
“Davenport decided to close the Portland office and he’s partnered to take over a small failing firm in San Francisco. And since you’re already licensed in California, among other things, Davenport thinks you’d be perfect for the position. He wants you out there—”
“Wait! What!” I smiled ecstatically. “He wants me?” If Spencer was messing with me, he was going to get smacked. “He wants me to run the San Francisco office?”
“Yeah.” His response lacked the expected enthusiasm, and he hesitated before continuing. “If all goes well, that is. For the time being, you’ll be acting branch manager and after six months, you’ll both meet and see if it’s what you wa
nt long-term.”
“Why wouldn’t he choose someone else to run that office?”
“Keyword: failing office. And the current owner has no interest in managing day-to-day operations. So, this is where you come in. Two of the associates from the Portland office have agreed to relocate and Zack, Davenport’s son, will be there to help you settle in before he’s off to Hawaii to get married and start his life there.”
“But what about the Bowers project?” I couldn’t just up and leave, not while knee-deep in the middle of it. That was my baby, and there really wasn’t anyone besides Spencer who could take over, and that was unrealistic with his ridiculous workload.
“Well, if you decide to take the position, we thought you could continue managing it. You’ve worked so hard on it, put in a lot of time, and you have built a rapport with the client. Almost everything is transmitted electronically, so it would be a fairly easy transition. We’d fly you back and forth between offices if and when necessary. Once that project is complete, you’d be committed to projects strictly in California. Unless otherwise needed.”
“Wow. I feel like I already have one foot pushed out the door.” Were they just expecting me to take it?
“And . . .” he prompted.
“And, what?” I interrupted, not sure I could digest anymore. Not just yet.
“After the six months, if you decide to make this permanent, you’ll be promoted to vice president, but don’t let them know I mentioned that part. He didn’t want that to be a deciding factor.”
“What?” I screeched, my palm slapping the table as I pushed up and out of my seat, the legs of my chair scraping the hardwood floor. My initial reaction was elation, pure joy, everything I’ve worked so hard for—my dreams finally coming true, until his words connected the dots and all good thoughts seized to exist. Levi. He loved me. I was moving in with him. What the hell was I supposed to do? We worked hard to get where we were. How could our relationship survive something like this? It probably wouldn’t. Long distance relationships rarely did. And if I made California permanent and he stayed in Atlanta, I didn’t see how it would work.
“Shit,” I sighed heavily. Bringing my chair back, I plopped onto it. “Shit, Spence. What am I supposed to do? This is like a dream come true . . . but I’m not so sure anymore. What do I tell Levi? He asked me to move in with him and I said yes. I’m in love with him.”
I hated that torn expression on his face. Spencer was one of those guys that if given the chance would settle down and have a family. He would make a great husband and father one day. So I had a strong hunch where his loyalty would lie. But in my defense, he already had the career he worked so hard for.
“I have no idea. But my suggestion to you would be to think about this. What it means for your career—your future—before you mention any of this to him.”
Spencer was right and this wasn’t a conversation I could have over the phone with Levi, not when he was traveling. They had games on the west coast before he made it home. How would I fit in a conversation of this magnitude? We would definitely need time to talk it over, work out the details, if there was a remote possibility of working it out. Where would that leave us?
“How much time do I have?” I whispered, the fear of losing Levi over something like this manifesting into something very real.
“He didn’t say, but he’s not the most patient man. You know this. I would assume a couple weeks, maybe less before he’d expect a final decision.”
“And if I don’t take it?” My voice quivered just thinking about turning down such an unbelievable offer. An offer that surpassed the goal I had been working toward.
When Spence didn’t answer, not with words at least, my heart took a deep nosedive. I laid my forehead on the table, conflicted. “What the hell am I going to do?”
He rubbed my back, knowing I needed the comfort. “Whatever you decide, I’m sure it’ll be the right decision.”
Whatever I decide, I hoped he was right.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Rowan
The last week had been utter hell. First thing Monday morning, after I had hauled ass from my car to the office later than I had wanted to, I had a voice mail waiting from Mr. Spalding regarding the Bowers project. There had been some permitting issues and let’s just say he barely held his composure after his long-winded message where he ordered me to “figure it out.”
Never in my life had I been so angry and humiliated. I was on the verge of tears in the workplace from hearing those harsh words.
On Tuesday, Spencer called in sick along with Kelsey, both claiming to have some kind of stomach bug, which meant I stayed later than usual and had no choice but to miss another one of Levi’s games.
Without my voice of reason to hash all my shit out with, my stress levels had hit an all-time high by Wednesday. I was on the verge of throwing in the towel and walking the hell out.
The cherry on top: I still hadn’t figured out how to tell Levi about my promotion. Or at this point if I should.
Maybe I just wasn’t ready for all the added responsibility.
Self-doubt was a leech sucking bitch.
Needing a distraction from the added stress, I moved from the kitchen to the living room, wine glass in hand, and sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning my back against the couch. I flipped the television to one of the music channels and sighed at the beginnings of a mess. Empty boxes took up one corner of the room, waiting for me to decipher what to keep, what to toss, and what to donate.
How was I supposed to decide when I had no clue where I’d end up? If I moved in with Levi, it would make sense to downsize. But if I stuck by my ten-year plan and chose California, I’d have to then decide if I was going to haul most of my stuff or go out and buy new. But what if I hated it there and wanted to come home?
“Dammit, Spencer,” I mumbled to no one, needing my best friend’s ear. I couldn’t do this on my own.
Well, technically, I could. I just didn’t want to. What’s the sense of having a best friend if you couldn’t bend their ear?
Sipping my glass of Riesling, I did the whole back-and-forth mental mooting, giving myself an unnecessary headache. Or it might have been the wine. I set the glass down and picked up my notebook; starting a pros and cons list sounded like a better idea. I kept my fingers crossed I’d find some insight.
On one hand, staying put and continuing each day like normal wouldn’t disrupt my current employment, albeit it would be some form of settling. A promotion that great probably wouldn’t come around a second time. Not unless I moved to another company entirely, which wasn’t an option I’d entertain. That is if I didn’t piss Davenport off with my decision and he terminated me on the spot. It wasn’t hard to figure out he was banking on my answer being yes.
With my mind focused on San Francisco, I didn’t get too far jotting down all I wanted to when the lock of my front door clicked open. I jumped to my feet and shoved my notebook between the seat cushions.
“Hey, babe,” I greeted, walking into Levi’s open arms.
“Hi, angel,” he breathed, kissing my head and locking the door behind him. “I thought I was going to have to wake you, but since you’re awake, and already one ahead of me, do you have any beer in the fridge?”
“Yup.” He dropped his arms and I spun on my heel, quietly blowing out a nervous breath. “I was just getting up for a refill myself.” I held up my empty glass. The truth never felt so dishonest.
“Here, let me get that for you.”
Levi reached for my glass and set it on the counter while he grabbed the bottle of Riesling and a beer. “You missed another good game today,” he started as he refilled my glass. “Hit a grand slam in the first inning.”
“Wow, that’s awesome. Congratulations.” I lifted on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry I missed it.” I took the glass from his proffered hand.
“Don’t worry about it. There’ll be plenty more games for you to go to.”
Not
if I’m in San Francisco, there won’t. I bit my tongue, almost voicing my internal thought.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I hid behind the rim of my glass, feeling guilty as ever. Not having the slightest clue why I was not telling him. I take that back. I was scared as shit that if I did accept the offer, I’d lose him entirely. Either way, the outcome didn’t look good. This was one instance where I wouldn’t be able to have my cake and eat it too.
“Come, let’s sit.” We locked hands, and he led me to the couch. Levi dropped down in his seat and I followed, thanking everything holy I had shoved that notebook deep below the cushions.
He sat with his legs wide, his beer resting on his knee and his arm wrapped around my shoulders, looking all sorts of comfortable and handsome in his cargo shorts and distressed navy-blue Bucks T-shirt. He should be at the bar celebrating another victory with the guys, but he chose me to come home to.
Why would I consider a career move at this point? Why would I not choose him? Honestly, it all boiled down to the fact that I had worked so damn hard to get to where I was to not give it a fair chance. Does Levi not deserve a fair chance?
I could not turn my brain off fast enough.
“I talked to my mom earlier.” He knocked back his drink. “She’s planning a family trip—the whole family.”
“That sounds like fun.”
He chuckled. “It’s more like crazy and chaotic with twin toddlers, but I love it when they’re all here and we’re all under one roof.”
I bet he did.
“She’s excited to meet you. I’m excited for you to meet them.” His finger brushing gentle strokes along my arm gave me goose bumps. The good kind. And I had no idea how I was going to live without them. “They’re going to love you. But not as much as I love you.”
Levi leaned forward and set his bottle on the coffee table. He took my glass and did the same, and instead of resuming his position, he shifted in his seat to face me. He curled his hand around the back of my neck, inching closer until our mouths touched. His lips licked greedily over mine. His tongue was granted easy access. God, he tasted so good. How was I considering giving this up?
Top Notch (Man on Top Book 1) Page 24