“So, it took a while, as mine was custom ordered. But I have something for you.”
“Hayden? What are you doing here?” He never shows up before closing time, and it’s almost lunchtime.
“I have something for you,” he repeats himself, his gorgeous face smiling at me. “Can I have a cookie?”
“I swear you only come here for free sweets.” I hand him one.
“Wrong. I come here for you. The cookies are just a happy coincidence.”
“Mmmhmmm.” I arch my eyebrow. Just then, my doorbell jingles again.
“Hayden, what the hell is this?”
“Well, you said you’d kill to have one like mine in your office. And I value the lives of citizens of Bourbon too much to let that happen. Plus, wooing you would be that much harder if you were in jail.”
“Hayden…”
“One sec, I’ll just show them where to put it.”
What the actual hell? Did he really just buy a sofa for my tiny office space at the back of the shop? The three guys carrying the heavy piece of furniture all nod at me as they pass me by. I try not to shake my head in disbelief at them, but as soon as they’re gone from my sight, a panicked cackle leaves my mouth.
Fuck.
I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to keep him at a distance, but he’s unbelievable.
Who gets a sofa for someone they’ve known for only a few weeks? Hayden Frost, apparently. I’d tell him to put his money where it can make a difference, but he’s already doing that as well.
I’m so fucked.
“So, what do you think?” Hayden asks, proudly standing next to me in my office.
The crew Hayden hired to deliver the sofa had to move around some furniture to make it fit. And it does. It actually looks really good, like it has always been here. And comfy. It looks so goddamned comfy that it’s calling my name.
“It’s alright,” I shrug. Understatement of the century. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now you don’t have to worry if you need a nap.” He smiles. “Oh, wait right here.” He runs out of the office.
I stand there trying not to face dive into the sofa before he’s definitely out of here. He doesn’t need to know how much I love it. Not yet.
“So, uhm,” he says as soon as he’s back. He’s flustered, and is there a blush creeping up his neck? “I got you something else, too.” He pulls a package from behind his back and hands it to me.
“What is it?” I ask, weighing it in my hands. It’s light but bulky.
“It’s…” he hesitates. “Just open it.”
I unwrap the paper and find the softest thing I have ever touched.
“Something to keep you warm when you nap.”
Fuck it. I throw the blanket on the sofa and walk up to him, pissed as hell.
“Natasha? You don’t like it?”
“I fucking love it,” I growl.
“Then what’s wrong?”
I fist his shirt in my hand and pull him to me.