Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

two. He reached over and grabbed the headboard, still grinning at me, which brought us both to a stop, and I quit pulling against him.
    My phone rang again. “You have to let me go,” I said, although I couldn’t help but smile back at the mockery I saw in his eyes.
    “Darling, you have got to learn to relax. What would be the harm in letting it go to voice mail? You can call them back in a few minutes—”
    “It will be longer than a ‘few minutes’, and you know it,” I teased, and he laughed. But his legs fell from around my hips, and I was able to stand up. I took the phone into the living room to answer, because seeing him lying there naked and waiting was too much of a distraction.
    “This is Jonathan.”
    “Jonathan, it’s Marcus.”
    My gut reaction was dread. Marcus never called me with good news. But I tried to keep my voice light. “Good morning, Marcus.”
    “Nguyen’s mother-in-law died last night.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, although I hardly knew Nguyen at all. And even though I knew it was selfish, I couldn’t help but wonder why the death of his wife’s mother had anything to do with me.
    “He was supposed to leave for San Diego on Monday, but now he has to fly to Miami with his wife. I’m going to need you to cover.”
    Shit. I closed my eyes. I counted to five. I started to count to five again.
    “Jon?” he interrupted me. “Are you there?”
    “Yes, sir. The thing is, this is supposed to be downtime for me.
    You told me before Christmas that I wouldn’t have to travel until the end of the month, and I was really counting on having that time to—”
    “Jonathan, I’m sorry if this is inconvenient, but I really need you to take care of this. I’ll email you the account summary. You’ll need to leave Monday.”
    “There’s nobody else who can do it?”
    “I want it to be you.”
    I sighed, not even caring if he heard me. “How long?” I asked.
    “Two weeks, max. Maybe less.”
    Two weeks. I hadn’t seen Cole since before Thanksgiving. Six weeks apart, and now we would have only one more night together before I had to leave again. But what could I do? “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”
    “Thanks, Jonathan. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
    I hung up with a heavy heart. I didn’t want to go. More than ever, I wanted to stay home. With Cole. The remainder of my weekend looked darker knowing that I would be saying goodbye to him again the next day.
    “So?” he asked mockingly when I came back into the bedroom ten minutes later. “I hope it was worth it.”
    “It definitely wasn’t. One of the other accountants had a death in the family,” I told him as I lay back down next to him. “I have to cover for him next week.”
    “What does that mean exactly, love?”
    “It means I’ll be leaving for San Diego on Monday.”
    “Honey, I just got home!”
    “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.” He had to hear how much I meant it, too.
    He was quiet for a moment, and then suddenly he sat up. He sat across my hips, looking down at me. “Why you, love? Do all of the Senior Liaison Account Directors —” he always used that mocking tone when he mentioned my job—“get sent out of town at the drop of a hat?”
    “Yes and no. It happens to all of us, but it probably happens to me more.”
    “And why is that?”
    “Because most of the other guys are married and have families.”
    “So your free time has less value than theirs, simply because of your lifestyle?”
    “Well, I….” I wasn’t really sure what to say to that. I hadn’t ever thought about it that way before.
    “And this trip now—it’s not even your client, right, love?”
    “Right.”
    “And what would happen if you said no?”
    “Are you telling me I should have?”
    “Of course not. I’m just curious. Would you be fired?”
    “No.”
    “Is there any benefit for you if you take it? Do you get paid more?”
    “I’m on salary. I suppose it might be taken into account when it’s time for bonuses, but other than that, no.”
    He shook his head at me. “I’m sure I’ll never understand you.” He trailed his slender fingers through the hair on my chest. It tapered to a point around my navel, then down from there, and his fingers followed it. “I don’t think I should have to share you with your clients,” he said.
    I grabbed him and rolled, flipping him onto his back and landing on top of him so I could look down into his laughing eyes. “I don’t think I