some more. It’s like a trance, like two magnets that have found each other and can’t pry themselves free. Not that I want to.
By the time the sun crests the horizon, reaching pinky orange strands across the sky, I’m in his arms again.
“It’s time,” he says.
He doesn’t have to say for what.
“You sure you don’t want to take another day off?” Greyson asks me.
“Almost forgot—I think I may have to,” I remember out loud. “Your assistant sent me a crapload of videos to watch for orientation from home. So I’m stuck home whether I want to be or not.”
“She did?” Something passes across Greyson’s face. “Oh.”
He forces a smile. “You’re the lucky one, then. I wouldn’t mind another day away from the office. When I’m there, the calm doesn’t feel real. When I left, things were one mistake away from shambles.”
I pat him. “Give it time.”
He rustles my hair. “Thanks, you.”
I force myself to an upright position, stretching luxuriantly. Greyson’s gaze on my ass feels good. “Well, boss, we’ve got a full day ahead of us.”
I wait for him to give my ass a smack like he wants to, but I just hear a sharp exhale. “Yes. That, we do.”
Guess it really is work time.
Chapter 21
Greyson
As I walk into my office, I have to pause, sure I forgot something. It takes me a minute to figure out the reason for the missing feeling in my chest: Harley.
It took all my self-control to let her leave my car earlier today, to not suggest a breakfast, brunch, snack, anything as an excuse to spend a few more hours with her, minutes.
But I have a job to get to. I can’t shirk all my responsibilities just because I’ve found something I like doing more. Someone I like doing way more.
Anyway, now that I’ve been making a lot of the final calls on the new StormTV episode, I’ve started liking work. Not that the days and weeks ahead will necessarily resemble my first day back, but maybe I can swing it. And more time in the producer’s chair too.
No sooner have I gotten to my office and sat in my chair, than a knock has me getting up again.
Opening the door reveals my three brothers all grinning at me.
“Surprise!” Emerson says.
“Why don’t you look happier to see us?” Landon asks.
“The only time you guys show up in full force is when there’s something wrong,” I point out.
“And the only time you call us all to be together is when there’s something wrong,” Nolan retorts as he saunters in. “Can’t us popping in just be for a fond brotherly reunion? After all, word on the street is that we almost lost you.”
I step back to allow them in, then shrug. “Being out in the wild has its dangers.”
“But you fighting a fer-de-lance snake?!?” Emerson actually looks excited, even though the closest he’s been to a rainforest is the Eyewitness books we used to read as kids.
“You know Russel likes to embellish things.”
“Huh.” Nolan makes a face. “Well, if half what he says about you and that new cinematographer is true…”
I force my voice calm. Nolan thrives on getting to people. “That better not be why you’re here.”
He eyes me coolly. “And if it is?”
Landon clears his throat. “Guys. Don’t be stupid. We’re not here to wag our fingers at you for your personal life, Greyson. Although I will tell you it’s all over the office, and it doesn’t look good.”
“It’s all over the office?” I say.
Landon’s frown is dire. “It’s not exactly passed around over lunch, but I’ve had enough cryptic comments and looks to know that it’s common knowledge.”
Fuck.
Harley hasn’t even gotten back to work yet, and people are talking?
“Maybe I should say something,” I wonder out loud, knowing it’s a shit idea as soon as I say it.
Landon just shakes his head. “Just lie low and give it time to blow over, and everything will be fine.”
“You’re probably right. Although it still shouldn’t have come to this.”
I’m pissed, disappointed—in myself, most of all. What good did I really expect to come out of sleeping with an employee?
“It sure as shit shouldn’t have,” Nolan mutters.
“Hey,” I snap back, “you being publicly eviscerated by a married comedienne you had a fling with a few months back probably shouldn’t have happened either, right?”
Nolan sighs, shaking his head. “Greyson, Greyson, Greyson. We expect bad choices out of me. Not you.”
I glare at him, but keep quiet. I’m tired of fighting.
“Anyway.” Landon squares his muscled physique. “That’s not