Page 24 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

"Is it?"

"You know it is."

He grins. "Temperature issues again?"

"You're impossible."

"Is that a yes to the job?"

Here comes the “no” I expect to say…

Any day now.

"What about Will?"

"What about him?"

"He's your best friend's cousin. Won't this be... complicated?"

"Everything's complicated." His hand is still on my arm. "But you deserve better than hiding in his shadow. Better than cleaning up his messes."

"And instead I'd be cleaning up yours?"

"Our messes." He reaches over, his thumb traces circles on my skin. "We did get married together, after all."

I step back before I do something stupid. Again.

"Fine."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Fine?"

"I'll take the job." I straighten my pencil skirt. "But we need ground rules."

"Such as?"

"No more temperature comments."

His mouth purses. "I'll try."

"And no more..." I gesture between us. "Whatever this is."

"Define 'this.'"

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" He steps closer again. "Because I remember someone moaning over pancakes."

"That was?—"

"Appreciation for proper syrup temperature. Right."

I glare at him. "Are you always this infuriating?"

"Only with my wife."

The word lodges deep in my chest. I need to tell him. I need to?—

His phone buzzes, breaking the moment.

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