Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
"Mrs. Ashton-Farrell!" A warm voice calls from the reception desk. "Don't you look lovely today."
Dorothy Spencer, Cole's sixty-year-old secretary and self-appointed office mother, beams at me. Her silver hair is twisted into its usual neat bun, and the scent of fresh baked goods follows her as she bustles around the desk.
"Hi, Dorothy," I say, leaning in for the hug I know is coming. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Meredith?"
"At least once more, dear," she says with a wink. "Come, come. I just pulled snickerdoodles from the break room oven."
I follow her to her desk, where, sure enough, a plate of perfectly golden cookies sits cooling. Dorothy's baking is legendary within these walls. So much so that even the most hardened security specialists have been known to time their reports around her baking schedule.
"You're glowing today," she says, studying me with the same penetrating gaze Cole uses when assessing a potential threat. "I mean, you glow every day, but this time, there's something more."
I laugh, trying to sound casual. "Just a busy morning."
"Mmm-hmm." She doesn't believe me for a second. "Well, whatever it is agrees with you."
"Is Cole in?"
"In his office, grumbling about a huge event." She hands me a cookie on a napkin. "Dex has been teasing him all morning about some new client, a beautiful duchess who specifically requested Cole as her security detail."
"Oh really?" I arch an eyebrow, taking the cookie.
Dorothy laughs. "You should have seen your husband's face. Like someone suggested he gargle glass." She lowers her voice. "Dex only does it because Cole gets so deliciously outraged at the very idea of guarding anyone but you."
I start nibbling the cookie. "He hasn't been my bodyguard for years."
"Technicalities." She waves a dismissive hand. "Go on back. Maybe you can improve his mood."
I make my way down the familiar hallway, past the training rooms where I've watched Cole put new recruits through their paces. The walls display framed photos of the company's milestones, including one of Cole and me cutting the ribbon at the new training center we funded together last year.
"Well, look what the wind blew in."
Dex Farrell shoves his hands deep into his pockets, looking every inch the successful businessman in his tailored suit. Unlike Cole, Dex embraces the executive look, though the same steely gray eyes and watchful posture make the family resemblance unmistakable.
"Just the brother-in-law I was looking for," I say, smiling.
"Liar. You're here for the grumpy one." He wraps his arms around me for his usual bear hug and kisses my cheek. "Though I'm always the better choice."
"Are you, now?"
"Speaking of my charming brother," Dex says, studying me with the same penetrating look Dorothy gave me, "he's been impossible today. Please tell me you're here to improve his disposition?"
"That depends. Is he really considering taking on another client?"
Dex throws his head back and laughs. "God, no. I just enjoy watching him get territorial. All these years and he still acts like you might vanish if he blinks too long."
"I heard that."
I turn toward the deep voice that instantly sends warmth cascading through me.
Cole stands in his office doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white shirt stretched across broad shoulders, black pants and shoes complete the picture of controlled power. He's even more devastating than when I first met him, a few lines around his eyes only adding character, the slight touches of silver at his temples make him look distinguished rather than older.
Yep. My husband is still and will always be the hottest guy in the world.
"Meredith."
"Hey, workaholic," I say, moving toward him.
Cole's eyes narrow slightly, scanning me from head to toe. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
Dex snorts. "She's lying. I can tell."
Cole glares at his brother. "Don't you have work to do?"
"I'm the co-owner," Dex says with a shrug. "I delegate."
Despite my nerves, I laugh. This dynamic between them—Dex needling, Cole glowering—is as familiar and comforting as Dorothy's cookies.
"Seriously," Cole says, his focus entirely on me now, "what's up?"
"Maybe I just wanted to see my husband in the middle of a workday. Is that a crime?"
"It is when you've got that look," Dex interrupts. "The one that says you're keeping secrets."
"Dex!”
Dex holds up his hands in surrender but winks at me. "Fine, fine. I can take a hint." He backs away down the hall. "But this conversation isn't over, Meredith!"
Cole guides me into his office with a hand around my waist, closing the door firmly behind us. His office is exactly like him, functional without being spartan, everything in its place. The desk holds three framed photos: our wedding day, a candid shot of me laughing at something off-camera, and one of Robert and me from before he died.
"Now," Cole says, leaning against his desk and pulling me to stand between his legs, "tell me what's going on."