Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Is that what you think I said?” I ask, lifting a brow. “Because I think you’re hearing what you want to hear.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t do anything I asked?”
I grin. “Are you saying that’s not what you want to hear?”
The air thickens as we let the tension settle around us.
Our relationship is unusual, but it works. Sure, working so closely with an old friend that I’m crazily attracted to has its drawbacks. I’m jealous when women flirt with him. I worry about his well-being. And I’ve considered packing an extra set of panties in my purse for the days he wears my favorite black suit and tie.
But it also has its perks. I know Jason well enough to anticipate his needs. We trust one another, which provides a more relaxed working environment. And Jason and I communicate effortlessly, respect one another, and value the same things.
We might flirt in private for fun, but when it’s time to work, no one is more productive and efficient as us.
I glance over my shoulder into my adjoining office as Brandi sets a vase of flowers on my desk. The burst of color looks pretty next to the iced coffee Jason brought me this morning, although I have no idea who they’re from. So I make a beeline for her.
“Are those for me?” I ask.
“Yes. Wendy just sent them up from the front desk,” she says. “They’re freaking gorgeous, Chloe. Who are they from?”
“I have no idea.”
She peers around me, then speaks in a hushed tone. “Do these have anything to do with why you were summoned to Jason’s office?”
I laugh out loud. “Definitely not.”
“Well, they smell amazing. Enjoy them,” she says before disappearing around the corner.
Orange and pink roses, yellow carnations, and bright greenery fill a small, square vase. I find the card nestled in the petals and pull it out.
Friday at seven. See you then.
Thomas
Thomas? I roll my eyes but mentally applaud the effort.
“Who are those from?” Jason startles me.
I turn to find him leaning against the doorframe between our offices. He’s trying to appear nonplussed, but I see through the facade. He’s annoyed. Good.
“It’s none of your business,” I say, grinning at him.
He steps out of the doorway, motioning with his arm for me to return to his office. He snatches the card from my hand before I get past him.
“Hey,” I protest, although I don’t try to retrieve it from his palm. The invasion of my privacy is worth his reaction.
The darkness sweeping over his features pulls at a knot in my stomach, releasing a burst of hormones to flood my system. I imagine him grabbing me and shoving me against a wall, his eyes burning into mine. His fingers biting into my flesh as he lifts my shirt—
“Who is Thomas?” he asks, interrupting my fantasy.
“A friend.”
His jaw sets as he looks up, narrowing his eyes at me. “What’s Friday at seven?”
I narrow my eyes back but fail to remove the puckish smile from my face. “What do you think is Friday at seven?”
“I thought you weren’t dating.”
“No one said anything about dating, Jason.”
He takes a deep breath, his fingers flexing around the thin paper, then marches back to his desk.
I quickly gather my wits and move as confidently across the office. My heart thumps with each step I take. His voice is liquid fire as his words ring through my mind. “I thought you weren’t dating.”
I try to hide my grin. This is way more fun than Thomas is going to be.
“Can I have the card back?” I ask, stretching my hand across his desk.
He makes no move to return it. Instead, he deliberately places it beside his phone. Then he sits down and rocks back in his chair, daring me to take it.
“I didn’t think you were seeing anyone,” he says, resting his chin on steepled fingers.
“I’m not seeing anyone.” I grab the card before he can stop me and then sit across from him. “But just because I don’t want to date anyone doesn’t mean I don’t have needs.”
“And Thomas meets those needs?”
“He’s going to on Friday.”
I smirk. Jason is unamused.
“Did you decide whether to draft a contract to Rigglen Aeronautics?” I ask, circling back to a safer topic—work. “Jerry Rigglen calls me daily, and I promised him an answer this week.”
“You would know if we were drafting a contract to Rigglen if you hadn’t snuck out of the conference room this morning.”
“I had something to take care of.”
He hums, eyeing me suspiciously. “Should I find it coincidental that my EA slipped out of a meeting at the same time the morning pastries arrived?”
I smile. “No, because that’s exactly what I was doing—and I’m not sorry. I had a morning from hell, and I needed a little pick-me-up.”
“Why was this morning so bad?” His features shift immediately, switching to genuine concern in a snap. “Did something happen?”