Page 38 of Big & Bossy

“Come on,” he grinned as he pushed the driver's side door open. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

He opened my door for me before I even had the chance. “Is this place fancy?” I asked, already worried about my casual attire consisting of a black skirt, white button-up blouse and flats, easy clothing to walk and stand in all day. The nicest part of my outfit was the wool jacket that Jack had given me. He had worn black slacks and a black button-up. At least he’d look the part.

“Maybe a little,” he grinned, offering me a hand. I took it.

“I’m not exactly dressed for fancy,” I mumbled, my face paling as I realized this place wasn’t just fancy—it was exclusive.

“You look beautiful.” He pushed a stray strand of hair out of my face, tucked it behind my ear, and lit a fucking fire in my veins all at the same time. “You never need to worry about that.”

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The place was exclusive plus.

Jackson sat close to me, his body occasionally rubbing up against mine as we ate course after course of absurdly expensive and delicious food. Crab, tartar, wagyu, foie gras, caviar. He’d bought an entire bottle of wine but only had one glass because he was driving. By the time dessert arrived, I’d downed at least three. It was delicious.

The thing that threw me off wasn’t the fancy food, the gorgeous restaurant, or the expensive wine. It was Jack. His attention was focused entirely on me as I babbled on about all the things we’d seen today and the ideas I was coming up with from all of the inspiration. As much as I hated to admit it, his initiative of visiting places instead of just looking at them online had done a lot of good for my mind and my muse. It had genuinely helped the process, and he seemed more keen than ever to hear me talk about it.

“I think we could get someone local to recreate something similar to those light fixtures in the Rookery,” I said around a mouthful of creme Brulé. “We could do them in black and white instead of dark brown and cream. I think it would take the lobby of your campus to the next level.”

“I would love that,” Jack grinned, his plate empty and pushed to the side. He leaned on one elbow, his gaze trained on me. “You know that big mural we saw at the Chase Tower? I was thinking of hiring another local to create something like that in one of the hallways. We could have it be an homage to tech featuring all the important figures that have gotten us where we are today.”

I blinked up at him. “That’s… yes. Yes, absolutely. We can do that.” The idea was genius but I couldn’t tell him that. I didn’t want his ego to blow up even more. But just knowing that idea had come from his mind was surprising and downright attractive.

Jack’s free hand rested on my thigh, too close to the bottom hem of my skirt. “You were like a magnet today, Mandy,” he said, that little cocky grin drawing me in. “Listening to you talk about your passions, seeing those walls breaking down…”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“I just…” He took a deep breath, trying to find his words. “It was amazing to see you like that. That’s all.”

“Thank you.” “I wish I could see you like that more often.”

I chuckled under my breath as I pushed my hair behind my ears. “Be nicer to me more often, then.”

His lips twitched upward as he leaned a little closer, his face just an inch from mine. I could smell the glass of wine he’d had and every delectable note from the food we’d eaten on his breath. “Don’t tempt me, Mandy. I’d be a fucking saint to you forever to see that every day.”

My breath hitched as my pulse quickened. He couldn’t say stuff like that to me. It wasn’t fair.

His lips brushed against mine, likely for any journalists observing this moment. I leaned against him as his hand slid along my neck, pressing our lips more firmly together, and God yes this is what I wanted.

He pulled me closer, his lips parting, his tongue coasting across my lower lip. I opened my mouth wider for him , breathing him in, tasting him as my heart pounded against my rib cage. I hated how much he tasted like desire, like passion, like home. It’s just his familiarity, that’s all, I reminded myself, letting my hand fall to his cheek, his jaw.

His touch turned desperate once again, just like it had in my office. He wanted more. I could tell from the way his fingers caressed my skin, from how intensely he pulled me closer, from the deepening of his kiss. This was raw, passionate, and obviously just a show for any cameras trained on us.

Right? It had to be just for show.

When he finally pulled himself away, he gathered up a small amount of creme Brulé on my fork, holding it out for me. His eyes were dilated, his lips parted and puffy, his breathing just a little too heavy.

Maybe it wasn’t all for show. It certainly felt real enough, but I also knew him. I knew how well he could pretend. Was it so bad if I let myself pretend, too?

Chapter 19

Jackson

The idea that I needed to tell her hung heavy over me as I watched her. The soft hum of the plane was the only sound between us as she stared out the window into the night, watching the stars move at their glacial pace. She looked tired, and I couldn’t place whether that was because of everything going on or the sheer amount of exploring we’d done today.

I could do this, I had to do this. We were alone in the cabin, the door to the cockpit closed.

“Mandy,” I began, leaning forward on the couch I was seated on across from her. She turned, her expression unreadable as she wrapped her arms tight around her knees. I wouldn’t tell her that I could see the dark patch where the cotton of her tights came together between her thighs. “Can I talk to you?”

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