Domesticated

TATE

Emerald giggled an airy, wistful sound, and I swear I looked like a fool, grinning from ear to ear like this.

She took a long time in my bathroom, and I had started to think she may have fallen asleep, which was more than a cause for concern.

But before I could talk myself into making sure she was fine, she came out looking far more relaxed than I’d ever seen her before.

I ordered some pizza for us, and then we started up the movies.

First up was one of those touchy, feely, romance things that make me cringe, but Vince had said it was like crack for women. Well, for most women, I guess it was.

For Emerald, it was like comedy.

She laughed so hard, she cried as she shut it off long before we got half an hour in and picked some action movie I had bought but never sat down to watch, as I had intended months ago.

After the first full movie, we started a drama, and she fell asleep sometime after the credits but before the conflict began.

Her head was on my shoulder, and she had wrapped herself around my arm and put my hand on her outer thigh.

I looked at her, and she chose that moment to wrinkle her nose and huff before she melted back into peacefulness.

I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to, even if I could. How could any man look away from perfection when it was holding on to him like Emerald was holding my arm?

As much as I wanted to keep this moment going forever, her neck was at a slightly odd angle, and I’m sure if she stayed this way, it would hurt in the morning.

I also had to go to the office and accomplish something productive.

I’d put off a lot of important meetings lately while I tried to figure out this new situation my grandfather’s will had pushed me into, and I had a lot of making up to do.

I slid my thumb across her cheek and squeezed her thigh gently.

“Emerald,” I said softly.

“Hm?” She pouted and cracked an eye open briefly, letting it close as she tightened her hold on my arm.

“Does ‘mole people’ include gopher people, too, or is that a separate category?” I asked her, resorting to the late-night scramble for some excuse to talk to her.

“Gophers are too timid to be considered a threat. Make a nice shadow and you won’t see them for three months. Go to sleep, Tate.”

“We’re on the couch and it’s not the greatest place for comfortable sleeping,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

“But I’m comfy.” She pouted, blinking up at me groggily. “You make a surprisingly acceptable pillow.”

“I feel more like a stuffed animal being cuddled into oblivion.” I smirked and squeezed her thigh again.

“This is nothing.” She snorted, her eyes closing again. “I happen to take snuggles ~and~ cuddles very seriously, and this? Not my best effort.”

“I would very much like to experience your best effort one day, but this couch is not the place for it,” I said.

“Nope. Not moving.”

“Stubborn.” I tapped her nose.

“You didn’t already guess this?” She quirked a brow.

“I thought I had an understanding, but I’m beginning to see I have underestimated your ability to be difficult.” I chuckled and moved so she was jostled the least as I picked her up.

“I want to tell you I can walk on my own, but I think I’m just going to go with ‘fuck it.’” She sighed and put her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder again.

“You’re very comfortable, Tate. I can’t even remember the last time I felt so…content.”

“I’m glad you’ve discovered some kind of merit in me.” I smiled as I took her down the hall.

“But if you put me in that sterile room with no warmth in it at all, I will rebel,” she said, glaring at the door we had chosen as hers.

“I thought you liked it?” I looked down at her.

“It was the lesser evil.” She curled her lip. “I can’t sleep in there, Tate. I’ll get nightmares of being in a hospital watching the people I love dying, only it’ll be me in the bed. I can’t.”

“Okay, baby.” I nodded quickly and turned for my room. “We’ll fix it later, but let’s get some sleep first, okay?”

“Only if you don’t complain about me crowding you all night. I apparently have no boundaries when I sleep and I seek out cuddles like a drug fiend looking for the next hit.” She relaxed in my arms.

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” I rolled my eyes and laid her on my bed.

***

The only thing I managed last night was a painful erection every time she touched me.

Which was constantly.

All night.

Eventually, I’d get used to this intense reaction to her and have a little bit of control back, right?

Images of our moment in the car before I took her shopping blasted through my mind, and I felt that tiny bit of foolish hope shrivel up and die. She made me feel like a horny teenager, coming in my pants like that.

God, it was a sight to see, though.

I shifted a little to readjust myself as Fred Morris droned on and on about nothing, talking around in circles and wasting my time.

But I had to be patient for the sake of this contract that was in its final days before closing and making us both a lot of money.

“Excuse me, sir,” my assistant said from the door. I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name. Brandy, I think? “Miss Wells is here.”

“Wells? Your former assistant?” Fred asked when I dismissed Wendy. I’m sure it was Wendy.

“The same.” I nodded and stood, buttoning my jacket. “Can we continue this some other time, perhaps?”

“Of course. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know if Miss Wells is single, would you? I think she and my Teddy would be a good match.” Fred belly laughed.

Like hell I would ever let Emerald near that twisted fuck.

“She’s with me,” I said, not quite keeping the ire out of my tone.

“I meant afterward.” He waved his hand as we left the conference room.

“Hey there, handsome.” Emerald grinned and came over to plant herself in my arms and peck my cheek shyly. “I got us lunch from Deli-cious today.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded.

“Mr. Morris”—she smiled like the damn professional she was. Trudy could learn a thing or two from my girl—“I hope my early arrival didn’t interrupt too much.”

“Not at all,” Fred blustered slightly. Hopefully, it was sinking in that she was off-limits and ~mine~.

“I would apologize, but we all know I wouldn’t mean it.” She smiled wider.

“You just say that because you want half of my sandwich.” I rolled my eyes and smirked.

“What? No, of course not.” She sounded too innocent.

“My wife sounds just like that when she’s caught.” Fred chuckled.

“If you’ll excuse us”—Emerald laughed, pulling on my tie a little bit—“I think I’m going to steal his attention from you now.”

“As if any man’s attention could be anywhere else.” Fred laughed and shook his head, already on his way to the elevator.

“You have incredible timing.” I lift an eyebrow at her.

“I may have remembered he had a habit of rambling and decided to come rescue you a few minutes early.” She shrugged as we walked by Judy.

“That reminds me— that charity gala is in a few weeks. We should get you added as my date soon.” I looked at my assistant skeptically.

“Who is the coordinator?” Mary asked.

“How the fuck would I know?” I snapped at her.

“I’ll call Kevin later,” Emerald said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “Our sandwiches are getting soggy.”

“I need to replace her,” I grumbled after I closed the door.

“I’m pretty sure you uttered that phrase a lot when I first started.” She smiled and sat down to dig in the bag of food while I took off my jacket, tossed it onto a chair nearby, and loosened my tie.

“For different reasons that absolutely do not apply here.” I shook my head as she handed me turkey on whole wheat.

“I was very unqualified to be your assistant, Tate,” she pointed out.

“But you were professional and learned quickly,” I muttered.

“You’re biased, but thank you.” She snorted and put the straw in my drink.

“How has your day been so far?” I asked her around some food.

“Terrible.” She sighed heavily. “I talked to Mom’s landlord this morning. He sold to a larger company, and they’re no longer allowing monthly contracts at regular rates.

“I have to find nearly twice her rent by next week or she gets tossed out.”

“Wasn’t there a notice given?” I asked.

“Yeah, but Mom didn’t even remember it. Barbara had thought Mom told me about it weeks ago.” She shook her head.

“Lance is already looking at some of the care facilities, but he’s quickly discovering why I’m against the ones on her insurance.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re prisons, Tate.” She made a face.

“So, would now be a good time to revisit the topic of me paying for this, or are you still being stubborn?” I asked.

“This isn’t your burden to bear, Tate.” She sighed.

“It’s your family, Emerald. Soon to be mine as well. Will you let me do this? Please?” I took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Let me take that stress away.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, and I fought the sudden and powerful urge to do it for her. The look on her face when she’d come flashed through my mind once again, and I groaned. She was going to kill me.

“Okay,” she whispered, and I tossed my sandwich to its wrapper on the table and hugged her close.

This was a really big deal, and letting me do this for her was a huge leap. I wasn’t stupid enough to miss the significance of that one tiny word.

She was trusting me with the most important thing she had to her name. Her family was everything to her, and she guarded it close, nurturing it with her selfless giving.

“Find one that fits your mother and let me know,” I said and kissed the top of her head.

***

When the elevator opened at the end of the night, it felt like I got hit by a truck.

The place was always cold and unfeeling, which didn’t bother me much before since I was only here to sleep or work in the home office. The rest of it was unused space, mostly.

That was not the case anymore. There wasn’t much difference in the way it looked, aside from a small quilted blanket on the back of the couch, but it smelled amazing in here.

There was music playing, and I could hear Emerald singing along as I walked toward the kitchen.

Her hair was up in a tail; she had what I guessed to be flour on her chin and on the front of the shirt she was wearing.

A tray of raw cookie dough sat on the counter beside her as she rolled some in her hands, shaping it until it was perfectly round.

Her hips moved a little bit like she wasn’t even aware that she was dancing, and she had this smile on her face that made her look like the happiest person on the planet.

A timer went off, and she washed her hands quickly and grabbed a potholder, pulling a dish out of the oven before sliding the tray of cookies in.

She turned around and saw me. Her whole face lit up so bright I thought it could be seen from orbit.

“Hey,” she said.

“What are you doing?” I asked, and that smile slipped a fraction. “Get over here, Shrimp. I want my welcome home hug.”

She giggled and practically skipped over, giving a little jump at the last second so she could put her arms around my neck.

“Welcome home, Tate,” she said, and I closed my eyes and held her tighter, her feet dangling off the ground.

God, this was…this was amazing. I’ve never felt so… I don’t even know what to call it.

“I made dinner,” she said and wiggled in my arms so I could put her down.

“And cookies.” I used my thumb to wipe the flour off her chin before giving her a kiss.

I couldn’t not kiss her. Every second of every day, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to do a lot more than just kiss her, but dammit if those lips weren’t the greatest gateway drug.

And coming home to this? To her? Yeah, I was a goner.

“I got flour all over you.” She frowned when I forced myself to pull away.

“So? It’s just clothes,” I said and grabbed her hand, spinning her around and holding her back against me. “What did you make?”

“One of my mom’s recipes. Baked chicken and rice.” She beamed up at me. “And the cookie recipe comes from Dad’s grandmother.”

“It smells amazing, baby.” I kissed her cheek, needing to have my lips on her. “Let me take a shower and make a phone call real fast.”

“That gives me time to finish up.” She smiled.

Once I was in my room, I called Vince while I yanked off my tie.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck something up already,” he answered.

“No. I’m not coming tonight,” I said.

“What? You never miss poker night,” he said, and I could hear the confusion in his voice. “What’s going on?”

“She was singing and dancing when I got home,” I said, looking toward the door. “And she made dinner. And cookies.”

“Ah. You got hit with the domestic stick.” He chuckled. “Good. This is great, actually. Means you won’t take all of my money tonight.”

“With as much as I pay you, it’s my money anyhow.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, whatever. Look, I’m happy for you, man. Emma should be your higher priority in situations like this.

“And I didn’t even have to tell you that, which means you’re making progress.” He chuckled. “Have dinner with your woman, Tate.”

“She’s better company than you anyhow, so it’s an easy choice.” I snorted, kicking off my shoes and pulling my belt free.

“I don’t know how she can find your surly ass attractive,” he muttered and hung up.

I showered and put on something comfortable before going to the kitchen, just as Emerald yelped and dropped the tray of cookies on the counter, holding her hand.

“Emerald!” I shouted and rushed over. I pulled the mitt off her hand and swore at the angry red burn on her fingers. “What happened?”

“I don’t like your oven mitts,” she hissed, and I turned on the cold water.

“After this, they’re fucking trash.” I put her hand in the water.

“I’m okay, Tate.” She put her head on my arm. “It shocked me more than it hurt.”

“This doesn’t look like it doesn’t hurt.” I held up her hand.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” she muttered.

“Do you need a doctor?” I asked, looking at the redness on her hand.

“That’s a bit extreme.” She chuckled and turned off the water. “I’ve had sunburns worse than this. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” I frowned as she patted her hand dry.

“Positive. And, hey. The cookies didn’t hit the floor like I thought they would, so best outcome, right?” She smiled and used the towel to push the cookie tray back from the edge of the counter.

“Best would have been you not getting hurt,” I muttered.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving.” She laughed.