Page 41 of Fashionista's Playbook

I’d been waiting for this. “About what?”

She shot me a sideways glance like I was dumb. Which only made the urge to tease her almost unbearable.

I tugged at the swish of her blond ponytail. “Speak your mind, Mariposa.”

“It’s about the other night. I think…what happened.”

She was so serious, her fingers gripping tight to the steering wheel and her bottom lip jutted out in a pout, that I wanted her to stop the car so I could kiss her. The urge wasn’t gentle or sweet, and hit me in the middle like a hard shoulder tackle.

If she let me get my hands on her again, if she wanted me again, I wasn’t just turning the tables—I was flipping that bitch.

“I’d like to do it all over again right now.” No sense lying about it.

She blinked, her skin turned pink, and my desire ratcheted up a notch. If I didn’t kiss her or get out of the damn car soon, I was going to explode. Which apparently, had been my problem the other night too.

“I’m driving.” She practically squeaked.

“You could pull over.” I was only half teasing.

At the red light, she put her hand up between us, palm toward me. I didn’t so much as shift in my seat. “I can’t think when you do that. I had an entire speech prepared, of all the things I was going to tell you and now all I can think about is—” She huffed.“It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want you to think I’m one ofthemor that I have any ulterior motives.”

“And who wouldtheybe?”

“The girls, like those that were hanging out with the super creep, Ward. The groupies.”

I laughed outright. I could think of a lot of ways to describe Moriah, but a football groupie was not one of them. Hell, I was lucky I’d convinced her to attend a game. When she shot me an annoyed look, I sobered. “Got it.”

“Good. Because, this”—she waved one finger between us— “whatever it is, is probably a bad idea. But…”

I lifted an eyebrow as the light turned green. I would never push a woman into a situation that made her uncomfortable. I’d let Moriah get out whatever it was she needed to say—then I’d say my piece.

She wasn’t the only one with an opinion on this subject.

“Personally, I turn into a complete idiot whenever you’re around. And more than that, I like you. Genuinely think you’re a great guy. But professionally, I have to figure this all out and I don’t need people thinking I’m taking advantage.” She dropped her hand back to the steering wheel, settled into her seat, and sighed. “I’m rambling. I can’t even remember what I was trying to say.”

I’d noticed and found it fuck all adorable.

“Moriah,” I said slowly, with a measured tenderness. Because the way I was feeling was anything but. “You working for me is not going to make me stop wanting you, and what other people think isn’t going to stop me from pursuing you.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Okay.”

“If you want me to stop, I will. I’m not going to fire you because you don’t sleep with me.”

“The real question is,” I leaned over the console, nuzzled the exposed column of her neck, and inhaled the fruity, airy scent of her. “Do you want me to stop?”

I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her.

“No.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Moriah

I was trembling by the time I slid from the driver’s seat. Though it was dark out, it wasn’t too late yet. I could go in, and work on some designs. But that’s not why I followed Travis in the side door, why I didn’t make the turn toward the room I had been using.

The way he just assumed I would follow him was oddly sexy. Or maybe, I was the one jumping to conclusions?

“Travis?”

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