Just Sign Here - Cara Dee Page 0,62

the job. I’ve never interviewed an author for an episode before.” He huffed as I got down on one knee and removed his socks. “For the record, I would’ve finished hours ago if I didn’t have to go through Livie’s notes on your presentation. Does she honestly call that proofing?”

I kept my amusement to myself and unbuttoned his pants. I feared he was stricter toward my office assistant than I was. Peyton refused to let go, for which I was secretly pleased, but Livie was the second-best assistant I’d ever had.

Peyton still worked for me, though he’d cut his hours in order to juggle our rather busy life. He handled everything concerning business trips and bigger projects; Livie was “stationed” outside of my office in her own cubicle. In short, Peyton had become a coordinator and sometimes a bossy little fucker. He knew my schedule better than I did and came and went at headquarters as he pleased.

“You should cut her some slack,” I advised. “She’s doing fine.”

“Oh, is she?” Peyton cocked a brow. “Did you know that she booked you in for Milan in September initially?”

I furrowed my brow and tugged down his pants. “I thought Milan was in August.”

The ratings for our East Coast locations had finally picked up, and now we were planning on rebranding some of our European hotels too. We were targeting two of our most popular lines, including the one geared toward business travelers, which we had renamed with a heavy marketing campaign. Lately, much to my joy, it had become a thing for younger travelers to let people know they were staying at a Westwater Vision hotel.

There were popular hashtags involved. Serious business.

It was what it had boiled down to. We’d needed to rebrand and offer a more personalized stay in order to bring back a lost demographic. Additionally, thanks to our exchange program between our locations in New York and Los Angeles, we’d discovered that our LA staff was generally better at adjusting their approach depending on the clientele. A seasoned businessman who worked in finance spoke a language different from, say, a younger woman who flew in from Silicon Valley for a tech-related seminar. Something our East Coast employees were more aware of now.

Peyton lifted a bit so I could pull down his briefs too. “It’s in August now. Because I intervened. I told her again that Julia and I wouldn’t be able to go with you once school starts, and then I changed it.”

“Ah.” I smirked faintly as I unbuttoned his shirt. “You’re adorable when you get demanding and huffy, but you can lay off the attitude now.”

It served as a reminder to take him down a peg or two, which I had no issue doing. He thrived on having a lot to do, and he loved organizing and coordinating, but he spiraled if he didn’t get his mental downtime. Time to let go of everything, time to lower his defenses, time to let Daddy take over.

“I’m not giving you attitude.” Peyton frowned. “I’m just saying—”

“Quiet,” I commanded with a hitched brow in warning.

He snapped his mouth shut.

Better.

I removed the rest of his clothes in comfortable silence, then guided him into the bathroom.

“We have the house to ourselves. Let’s enjoy it.” I turned on the water and waited for it to get warm.

We needed this. Most days, he was the wonderful man who’d become the love of my life. A man whose personal journey I was lucky to be part of. A terrific father to Julia. Far better in the kitchen than I was. He’d turned our Boston home into a place I couldn’t wait to get back to at the end of the day. A man who dressed sharply for work, a man who threw off the suit and changed into sweatpants as soon as he got home, a man of intelligence and heart. But between him and me… When it was just the two of us, he would forever be my little boy.

I took my time washing him under the hot spray, hoping I washed away more than the day. For one night, it was only us. “Forget everything else.” I massaged the shampoo into his hair and felt the tension rolling off him. “Julia’s probably forgotten us by now.”

Peyton smiled quickly.

Over the years, his sister had become Julia’s role model. When Anna was home from school in Seattle, Julia demanded to go see Nana and Aunt Anna. She made them visit us in Boston often too, not