Chapter Sixty-One

~ Jameson ~

I’ve always been a master of timing. It’s in my blood.

At present, however… I’m caught in crosshairs and not fully certain if I should weave to the right or bob to the left or… Fall down. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Perhaps literally, too, in a sense.

I start out easy…so I think. I say, “I didn’t jump to the conclusion that you were proposing to me.”

“Ha-ha.” She gives a half-snort that’s comical.

“And you do pose a valid question.” A seriously dangerous one, for the landmine it drops us into. But, again, it’s a valid one.

She doesn’t press for an answer, just lightly traces her fingernails over my skin, making my pecs flex beneath her touch.

I inhale her hair and generally luxuriate in the feel of her naked body against mine.

I neither want to shatter our serene state with a bombshell, nor spoil our last night in Paris over any sort of intense diatribe.

Not to mention… I don’t want to run her off. We have two more weeks of critical meetings. I don’t want her to sudd