“And how do you propose we do that?” he asks, his voice flat.
“I think it’s time we get earthy, Ford.”
“Earthy?” He raises a brow, and I hold my breath, hoping he might be coming back to me.
“Yeah, earthy. When was the last time you went into one of the stores and just . . . bought things to play with?”
He scratches the side of his cheek. “Probably never.”
“Never?” I ask, shocked.
“Yeah, never.”
“Well, that needs to change.” I glance around his hotel room and spot a pad of paper and pen. I quickly grab it and then sit back down. Pen poised, I say, “Okay, what should we do?”
He sits up. “Uh, what do you mean?”
“We need to make a bucket list.”
“A bucket list? How is that going to help?” He shifts up and turns toward me.
It’s working: he’s starting to come out of his funk—slowly, but he’s coming out of it.
“Well, if we make a bucket list of things to do, maybe along the way you’ll not only start to find yourself, but you’ll also start to understand the company on another level, the ground level, the customer level. And from there . . . maybe the perfect rebranding will come to you.”
He scratches the side of his jaw as he contemplates my idea. “What would this list entail?”
“Why, all the things you haven’t done, of course.” I smile. “And don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side to capture it all in my permanent memory bank, so whenever you need to be brought down a level, I can remind you of the time you went fly-fishing and ended up catching your own crotch.”
That grants me a smile.
He lifts his chin. “I have more finesse than that.”
“How would I know? I only know you in a suit and tie behind a desk. It’s time to get down with nature, Ford Chance.”
“Earthy.”
I nod. “Yes, earthy.”
He stands from his seat and starts to pace. Yup, this is exactly what he needed. Pleased with myself, I watch his wonderful mind start to churn with ideas. “Maybe we go to the store and walk down each aisle to assess what we think I should do.”
“That could work. We could also make a short list right now and add things to it when we’re at the store. But at least you would have a starting point, so you’re not overwhelmed.”
“That’s a good idea.” He continues to pace. “But we do need to make time for me to clean out my room at my parents’ house.”
“Clean it out?” I ask, an idea coming to mind. “That’s perfect.”
“What’s perfect?” he asks, his brow pinched.
“That’s exactly where we’ll start: in your childhood room. What better way to find yourself than to revisit your childhood. We can create the bucket list and then move forward from there.”
“Yeah, I guess that might be a good place to start.” He looks at me. “But there’s no way you’re helping with that.”
I stand from my chair. “Oh, I’m helping you clean out your childhood room. That would be an absolute dream come true.” I rub my hands together. “I can only imagine the little golden nuggets of blackmail I’ll find. Maybe old letters to childhood girlfriends. Maybe an embarrassing photo or two. Maybe a collection of stamps or coins, or something you never told anyone about but you cherish. I need to see all of these things.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t help me.”
“And that’s exactly why I will be helping you.” He grips his hair, and I point at him. “You’re going to go bald.”
He drops his hand and shakes his head. “Hell, what would I do without you, Larkin?” The adorable, needy look in his eyes makes my stomach flip, and Beau’s taunting comes to the forefront of my mind.
I don’t like my boss.
Because he’s just that, my boss.
But am I maybe slightly infatuated? And when I say “slightly”？ I mean . . . very slightly. Like a sliver. A whisper.
Yes.
But it’s hard not to be when he’s so . . . so . . . perfect.
“You would survive without me, but life wouldn’t be as interesting.” I smirk.
“You got that right.”
I take a step toward him, closing the distance between us. Even though he’s had a rough day, I love seeing this side of him, this human side. I love seeing him relaxed and in a pair of sweatpants. I love seeing his vulnerability, and I love even more how he has no problem being vulnerable in front of me.