Tara's POV
The next morning, everything still felt a kind of shock on my skin. I kept jumping whenever the elevator opened. Part of me hoped that Bob would step out, tall and all, and another part hoped for it too. Emails were supposed to be my focus, but they just blurred together on the screen. His hands on my waist, that voice saying I was his.
It played in my head repeatedly.
Then my desk phone buzzed. I grabbed it quickly, before it could ring fully. "Tara Lawson," I said.
Bob's voice came through, needing files from the basement archives. "The 2022 marketing audits," he specified. His tone was professional, but there was this deep thought in my mind, low and thick, that hit me right in the stomach. “Could I help find them?” he asked.
"The archives," I repeated, my heart picking
