I had barely sat down on Monday morning, when my boss’s 19-year-old intern came to my desk. She just stood there awkwardly, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Can I help you, Chelsy?” I asked, without looking up from my computer.

“Sean wants to see you,” she said. Oh, this couldn’t be good. Sean was the head of the entire design department. He’d been part of the hiring committee that had interviewed me, but I had barely spoken to or worked directly with him in the six years I’d been here. The only other time I could recall him wanting to talk to me personally was when I’d been taken off a project my first year here. I’d thought for sure I was getting fired, but luckily had been placed on a new project, and a few months later was promoted to the women’s team.

“Do you know what he wants? I asked nervously as I stood and smoothed out my skirt.

“He didn’t say.” We walked in silence down the hall to his office. Chelsy stuck her head in the door.

“Chloe is here to see you, Mr. Jackson.”

“Thank you, Chelsy. Chloe, please come in.” He stood from his desk and gestured to a seat in front of it.

“Chelsy, shut the door behind you,” he said as he sat back down. I tried not to look worried, but my breakfast shifted uncomfortably in my stomach.

“Chloe, how are you?”

“I’m good, everything is great, the winter line is almost ready,” I rambled.

“I’m aware.” He shifted papers around on his desk. “But I didn’t call you in here to talk about the winter line.” My stomach dropped, and I seriously thought I might vomit on my shoes. “You may have heard Jackie will be leaving at the end of the year,” he said.

“I have heard rumors, but nothing official,” I responded, perking up a little.

“She gave me her official notice a few weeks ago. She won’t be back after the new year. Which means we are going to need to replace her.” My heart skipped a beat; he couldn’t really be offering me this job, could he?

“I’ve spoken with other members of the leadership team, and we’d like you to apply,” he said. Of course, he wasn’t offering me the job … who did I think I was? “We’ll be opening up the job, but only by invitation to a select handful of people.”

“All from within the organization?” I asked.

“No, a few from other companies that we’ve had our eye on as well. But the field will be small, less than ten.”

“And you want me to apply?” The question tumbled out of my mouth skeptically.

“Yes. I’ve been overseeing your work for quite some time, Chloe, and I’m impressed. You’ve come a long way, and I think you have real potential to do amazing things here.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Sean,” he said. “Don’t share this news with anyone here at work, as we’d like to keep the applicant pool tight and the job search low profile.”

“I can do that,” I forced my voice to remain calm and even. I was so excited I wanted to run out of his office and call Quinn right now.

“Chelsy, will send you all the details about what the application will entail, but it will be quite rigorous. I hope you’re up for it.”

“I am, I promise.”

“That’s it,” he said. That was my cue I was being excused. I thanked Sean one more time and left. I walked quickly to my desk, grabbed my phone out of my drawer and nearly sprinted outside to call Quinn.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered on the first ring.

“On my God, you’ll never believe it. Jackie really is leaving, and they want me to apply for the head of the women’s design team!”

“That’s amazing!” Even through the phone, I could tell he was smiling.

“I can’t believe it!”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, babe. You’ve worked really hard for this.”

“Well, I didn’t get it yet. I still have to apply, and Sean said the application process will be intense. And Jackie isn’t leaving until December.”

“But still it’s awesome, and we should celebrate tonight.” My phone dinged in my ear—a reminder, for a meeting starting in five minutes.

“Shit, I’ve got to go, but we’ll definitely talk more tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too. Go kick some more ass.”

I ran back inside, trying to catch my breath while I gathered a few things off my desk and made my way to the conference room.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings. I checked my email eight million times, waiting for details from Chelsy so I could start planning, but they never came.

I was doodling a new design on my notepad when my stomach growled loudly. I looked up and realized the office was mostly deserted, as it was nearly six. I gathered my things and headed to my car, texting Quinn on the way.

Twenty minutes later, I opened the apartment door and was greeted by the most amazing smell. Quinn had on music and was dancing around the kitchen while he cooked.

“What are you making? It smells delicious,” I said as I walked over and kissed Quinn on the cheek.

“Fajitas and margaritas. We are celebrating.” He stirred the onions and peppers, and then spun around, pulled me in close, and gave me a kiss. “I’m seriously so proud of you.”

“Nothing is official. I still have to apply.”

“Yeah, but you’ll crush it. I know you will.”

“Thanks, I hope so. Is dinner almost ready? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it’ll be done in five minutes.”

“Awesome, I’m going to change.”

When I came back out of the bedroom in shorts and a tank top, Quinn had the steak fajitas and all the fixings on the table and was mixing up a pitcher of margaritas.

“Cheers. To you and the amazing places you’re going.” Quinn lifted his margarita glass when we both sat down.

“Thank you. I’m really excited,” I said.

Three margaritas later, I was full of fajitas and more than a little tipsy. I leaned back in my chair and studied Quinn. His brown hair was getting long; the ends were starting to curl around his neck and ears. I loved it when his hair was long, loved running my fingers through it. He was scrolling through his phone and laughed at something he saw on Facebook. His face lit up as he laughed, the joy reaching his dark brown eyes. I could get lost in his eyes, so deep and serious, but full of light and laughter when he smiled. Quinn looked up and caught me staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Oh nothing,” I blushed. “Just admiring my super-hot husband.”

“Super-hot?” He smirked. “Is that so?”

“It is. A super-hot sex god, if I’m not mistaken.”

He threw his head back and laughed again. When his gaze returned to me, his eyes were dark, promises of passion and sex swirling behind them. The look he gave me shot straight to my core. I bit my lip and gave him my sexiest look in return.

“Those are some pretty big shoes to fill.” He stood up and walked around the table.

“I think you’re up for the job,” I said. He leaned down, his hands resting on the arms of my chair.

“Oh you do?” he whispered against my ear.

“Definitely,” I whimpered, moisture gathering between my legs.

“Are you sure all the margaritas aren’t clouding your judgment?”

“Nah, I’m smarter when I drink tequila,” I smirked. Quinn laughed so hard he let go of my chair and leaned over the table, clutching his stomach.

“Way to ruin the moment,” he snorted, when he finally regained his composure.

“Oh, we were having a moment?” I teased.

“You, Chloe Louise Parker, are impossible.” He leaned back over my chair.

“Oooh, using the middle and maiden names, I must be in trouble.” I laughed, and he rolled his eyes at me.

“I don’t know what to do with you sometimes.” He kissed me gently before he pulled away. “But I love you anyway.”

His lips crashed down on mine, nothing gentle about it this time. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. I moaned against his mouth when he slipped one hand under my tank top and ran his thumb over my nipple. I needed him closer, wanted to feel his body against mine, to make me forget how Carson had made me feel. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer to me, and his hands slid under me as he lifted me up. Our lips never parted, our mouths devouring each other as he carried me down the hall toward our bedroom.

When he laid me down on our bed, the mood changed. His kisses went from feverish and uncontrolled to slow and gentle.

“Get comfortable, baby.” Quinn smiled as he stood and pulled his shirt over his head. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night showing you just how much I love you.”

And then he made love to me. Nothing about it was rushed; there was no fucking, no urgency, just love being poured from his body into mine.

It was beautiful and amazing, and for a few hours I forgot there was a crack in our relationship. A crack I had created, a crack that threatened to break open and swallow me whole.