Page 34 of The Substitute

“Now, can we have breakfast?” she asks with a laugh. “I’m starving. I’m making pancakes.”

“I will never turn down pancakes.”

She hops from the bed, finding one of my button-down shirts to wrap around her. That’s been her uniform all weekend, and it’s sexy as fuck on her.

Maya shimmies into some panties, then pads out of the bedroom.

While she cooks, I take my time in the shower. I need a minute to get my head on straight. This weekend was better than I’d hoped. She fits here. I want her here all the time, not just on the weekends.

Buggering hell, I’m gone over her.

When I come out of the bathroom, I can smell the pancakes and bacon cooking downstairs, so I dress and pad down there. I stop cold when I reach the kitchen, my hand flying to my chest to cover the instant ache there.

She’s dancing.

A Taylor Swift song plays from her phone, and Maya’s hips move as she sings along, using the spatula as a microphone. That’s it.

I’m completely in love with this woman.

“You’re fired.”

That has her twirling in surprise. When she sees the scowl on my face, her eyes widen.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You’re not coming into work today or any other day. You’re done.”

She turns off the burner and music, then sets the spatula aside before propping her hands on her hips and scowling at me. “What in the world did I do to get fired in the past fifteen minutes?”

“I can’t work with you anymore.”

“You’re being so…you. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t work with the woman I’ve fallen in love with. It’s a conflict of interest. It’s too fucking distracting. If I’m going to get a bloody thing done in that office, I can’t have you there.”

Her hands fall off her hips, and she just blinks at me.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me.” I cross to her and wrap my arms around the small of her back as she tips her head up so she can see me. “You’re fired.”

“No, the other part.”

I drag my fingers down her soft cheek. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Maya Sterling.”

“You have?” It’s a whisper.

“Yes.”

She swallows hard, takes a deep breath, and frowns up at me as if searching my eyes for the answer to a question she hasn’t asked. Finally, her face clears. “You mean that.”

“I bloody well do, yes. And if you don’t feel the same—”

She jumps up, wraps her arms and legs around me, and kisses me with everything she has. Her fingers dive into my hair, and I walk her to the counter, where I sit her arse down and happily plunder her mouth.

When we come up for air, she brushes a lock of my hair off my forehead.

“I love you, too.”