She’s not what I imagined at all. Her nose is wide, her smile is unconventional; a wide gap separates her two front teeth. A splattering of freckles dot her cheeks and nose. Yet, her brown eyes are dark and huge, almost exotic looking, and her long dark hair is full and gorgeous. She seems kind and charismatic. She is stunning in a very unconventional way.
“She’s beautiful,” I tell him. “I definitely understand the attraction.”
He takes the photo from me, and puts her back where she has lived for who knows how long. I know I shouldn’t have asked to see her, but curiosity got the best of me.
“What about Donovan?” he asks. “I’ve seen a photo of him on your desk. Good looking man.”
I smile. “He’s also in my wallet… and on my phone. Would you like to see my favorite picture of us?”
“I would love to see.”
We make the short trek back to my desk, and I fish my wallet from my purse. I pull out the photo, my favorite shot of the two of us, a candid picture his mother took a few years back. I study the photo once again; his dark eyes, playful smile, and dirty blond locks, always kept short. He wore a checkered button shirt, his favorite one. I still have all his clothes. I haven’t had the courage to donate them yet, and want to keep some items for Ethan. They still hang in our closet, a painful reminder I see every day.
Weston smiles. “Your son looks a lot like him.”
I smile. “He does, doesn’t he? I feel like I still have a small part of him with me.”
“You do,” Weston tells me. “That’s the beauty of children.”
Suddenly, I want to cry on his shoulder. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath. “Uh… I should get back to work.”
He grins. “If you must.” He inches closer. “When do we get to play again?”
Damn.
“Soon,” I reply, very eager. “After lunch?”
“Two o’clock in my office.”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
He grins playfully. “I’d rather you with nothing on at all.”
“Sorry, no can do, Sir. This is a professional work environment.”
He shakes his head. “You are going to be the end of me, Grasshopper.”
I laugh, and he disappears.
It’s five minutes past two o’clock, and I’m sitting on the loveseat in Mr. Boss Man’s office, waiting for him. I check the clock on the wall, and wonder what’s keeping him. He’s late and I’m annoyed. So rude.
Finally, he comes barging in. “So sorry,” he says. “I had an errand to do.”
I forgive him instantly, eager for his touch. “What have you got in there, Mr. Boss Man?” I ask, eyeing the red nylon bag he’s toting.
His grin is mischievous. “Something you’ll like. I got it for you.”
“Not another gift,” I scoff. “I told you not to—”
He takes a seat across from me. “It’s not a gift. It’s something that stays in this office.” He pulls out a large red paddle hairbrush out of the bag. “I like to be prepared.”
I smile. “Are you going to brush my hair, Mr. Hanson?”
“If you’d like.”
My body shivers in anticipation. “You bet.”
“Come and sit next to me.”
I practically hop over, and bounce down right next to him. He laughs and slides a hand down my hair. It’s heavenly. He twists it up in a loose bun on top of my head. He leans down and drops a soft kiss on the nape of my neck. “Sorry, I just had to do that,” he says softly. “You like that?”
I feel like I’m on drugs. I can hardly speak. “Yes,” I say, the word barely spoken.
He kisses me again. “You like when I kiss you right here, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“It arouses you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
His kiss lingers this time. “It arouses me too… very much.”
I’m held captive under his touch, under his kiss.
He lets my hair fall down my shoulders. “You have such beautiful hair.”
“Do you like the blue ends?” I ask, curious. “Or are they too wild for you?”
He slides the brush gently down my hair, and a shiver travels from the base of my neck to the bottom of my spine. “I love them. They’re very you. You’re unique.”
“It feels so good.”
He repeats the process once more. “Say ‘Thank you, Sir.’”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You are very welcome, Grasshopper.”
I close my eyes, wanting this moment to never end.
He brushes my hair for a long time, the both of us quiet, enjoying the silence. I wonder what he’s thinking about. Finally, he presses his