Page 19 of Play For Keeps

“Because I might know of someone hiring. It’s a day job, so you wouldn’t have to worry about Birdie. I think it would be a good fit, and the pay would be the same or better than what you’re making now.”

Everly’s eyes widen. “Really? What line of work?”

“An office administrator for a contracting company.”

She stops and turns to face me. “Who do I contact?”

“You’re looking at him. The job is yours if you want it.”

I stand there, holding my breath, awaiting her response.

I’ve known this girl for all of a week, but it’s long enough to know that she’ll never accept my offer… not without a fight.

SEVEN

CALL ME A GOOD GIRL

Everly

“You want me to work for you?” I stammer. I was not expecting this.

“I need the help. You’d be perfect for the job. It’s a win for both of us.” He shrugs, his expression serious, and I am reminded of how sexy he looks when he’s being all stern.

“No.”

There is no way I could work in the same office as Jake every day—that idea has disaster written all over it. I am barely surviving the proximity to him now, standing next to him on this sidewalk. I’m hanging on by a thread.

He looks better than ever, wearing jeans that fit him perfectly and a short sleeve black T-shirt that showcases his corded arms. For the first time I notice the tattoo under his right sleeve. I wonder how many more I would find if he took off his clothes. I’d like to trace every inch of his body searching for them.

Just the thought causes my heart rate to dip in my chest. In my mind, I tour his six-foot-something body, from his ridiculously handsome face to the abdominal muscles I suspect are under that shirt. And then… further south.

I’ve spent almost 10 years with a man who wore Gucci loafers and always had a perfect side part. The thoughts I have about Jake, with his hair that always looks perfectly tousled, his muscular body, tattoos, and the dark scruff on his jaw, are downright obscene.

It makes me wonder what he’s like in bed. Jake seems like the type of guy who would call me a good girl after ordering me to my knees with my hair wrapped around his fist.

And why does that turn me on so much?

“Everly?” Jake asks, snapping me out of my dirty thoughts. “Just hear me out and then I’ll drop the subject, okay? If you took the job, you’d be helping me more than I’m helping you. Besides, how much longer do you think you can work those night shifts?”

That’s a good question. Most days it feels like I’m burning the candle at both ends. “I’ll figure that out when it happens.”

He nods but keeps to his promise not to push it. We continue walking, streetlights glowing overhead. I can tell Jake has something on his mind. I tip my chin up to look at him. “I do appreciate the offer, you know. Tell me about what you do.”

“I own a contracting company. We renovate and build houses.”

“So, I was right!” I say, immediately regretting the words as soon as they fall from my lips.

“Right about what?” His eyes float down to my mouth briefly, and I chastise my silly heart for dipping in my chest.

“Oh, I just had a feeling you worked with your hands.” My cheeks burn with heat, but I’m not sure if it’s due to embarrassment or the fact that Jake is standing so close to me.

“Oh, I can definitely work with my hands,” he says, and I can hear the smirk he must have on his face. There’s no way I am going to risk looking at him to confirm, though. I might just spontaneously combust.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“I can be patient,” he says, and something about the way he says it makes me risk a glance at him next to me. We hold eye contact for a beat, and then he winks, giving me a lopsided smile.

There’s that zap—that electrical current that always seems to be there between us. My heart hammers. It feels like I may never recover from that smile.

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