Page 7 of Swing and a Little Miss

I bit my lip and nodded again. Opening up in this way to someone I hardly knew was risky but thrilling at the same time. Even as I fought to resist the pull I felt toward him, I leaned in and wanted him to kiss me.

"Sounds like an important part of your routine, sweetheart." His voice was a low hum that vibrated through the small shop.

"Yes, sir." My reply was barely above a whisper, but he heard me.

He heard exactly what I was trying to convey. How was he able to pull truths from me when no one else could? Royce made me feel safe and dangerous at the same time.

He picked up his glass and took a drink. "Next time, I’ll have to get you home after the game and help you get all cleaned up, sweet girl."

My breath hitched, and I took another sip of my float to steady myself. The chill from the drink did little to cool the warmth spreading through me. Was he hinting about the very thing that made me feel most vulnerable? Could he guess that I was Little?

"Next time?"

"Next time." His eyes twinkled. “Unless you want me to take you home right now and tuck you into bed?”

Yes, please. I definitely wanted that. But I shook my head, knowing it was the right thing to do. “Next time is good.”

6

ROYCE

After my unexpected pseudo date with Abby, I had been waffling on whether or not I should be nicer to her at work. Not that I was mean, but I was still resistant to letting her have exposure to my team. When I clicked open the latest email from her, I was fully prepared to decline whatever new time-wasting campaign she was proposing.

But something in her proposal caught my eye.

She'd attached a mock-up video demonstrating our newest product suite. My curiosity got the best of me, and I played it. It wasn’t the usual corporate garbage with stock photos and generic voice-overs, but something that actually addressed client pain points. Impressed, I forwarded it to my team with a reluctant meeting invite to let them know we were having a sit-down with marketing and it was mandatory.

That meeting changed everything.

I leaned against the back wall of the conference room with my arms crossed while Abby moved through her presentation. Her navy pencil skirt hugged the curves I was trying not to stareat, and in the middle of the presentation, she must have heated up because she pulled a hair tie off her wrist and used it to tie back her hair in a high ponytail that swung with each emphatic gesture.

"So, instead of spending forty minutes explaining each feature and benefit, you can send this three-minute demo beforehand. That allows the client to come to the sales call with an understanding of the basics and questions at the ready."

Marcus, a previous top seller who hadn't hit his quota in two months, was engrossed in the datasheet she’d handed out to the team. "This will cut my discovery call time in half."

"Exactly." Abby smiled, and that dimple in her left cheek made an appearance. "And these one-pagers answer the most common objections before they're even raised."

I studied her materials, excited to finally have a marketing partner who cared about our success and not just her own.

Abby cleared her throat and was staring right at me when I looked up from the paper. "We can implement these into your email sequences by the end of week, if you’re okay with it, Mr. Elliot." Something flashed behind her eyes. A challenge for me to accept or ignore.

I nodded slowly. "That would be great, Abby. Thank you."

The tension in my shoulders eased for the first time in months. The first time in the office, anyway.

Over the next few days, Abby was everywhere. In all our meetings, at each of their desks, and in my inbox every time I opened it. But her new approach to marketing our products was smart and innovative and already making a difference.

She and I mostly interacted in the breakroom, where we both found ourselves several times each day.

On Wednesday, the tension between us was higher than ever when we both reached for the coffee pot at the same time. "Fancy meeting you here." Her fingers brushed mine as I held out the pot to fill her cup.

"Third cup today." I glanced at my watch. "It's not even noon."

“I know my excuse.” She leaned against the counter, cradling her mug between her small hands as she blew at the steam. "What’s keeping you up at night?"

"Someone…" The word escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

Her eyes widened slightly, and her breath caught. “Oh.”

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