Page 33 of Gorgeous

A burst of air rushes from the door as Cade swings it open with force. “What?”

Did he fucking growl at me?

I blink.

One. Two. Three times before I respond to his rude remark. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he waits me out. “Um …”

His brow cocks up and I know, without a doubt, I am annoying the shit out of him. “Um …” he repeats, almost like he’s insulting me.

This asshole.

“We need groceries,” I tell him, looking down at his bare feet. That’s interesting.

“And?” He prompts me for more of an explanation instead of the crystal clear one I just gave him.

“And … Anniston said to ask you when I needed something for the meals.”

Cade sighs and turns on his bare heel, heading back into his office without answering me. This motherfu—

“I need a half hour and then we’ll go.”

We’llgo?

I thought maybe he would ask for a list or give Tim the card to take me. “I hate to disturb you. Can Tim take me?”

Cade looks up from his desk after picking something up off the floor—a paperweight—and levels me with a look that I feel certain brings grown men to their knees. “I said” —he grits out with a nasty frown on his face—“that I needed half an hour. Since I’ve had to repeat myself, I need an additional three minutes.”

His words feel like a slap to the face. Instead of throwing my flip-flop at him, I opt for a more mature route and slam his office door closed, muttering, “You can take those thirty-three minutes and shove ‘em, dick.”

I’m feeling pretty euphoric when the door swings open and Major-Pain-in-My-Ass stands there, a beautiful angry God, his big hand clutching the doorframe. “Get in here. Now!”

His tone only scares me slightly.

I look to Tim. His eyes are wide with shock. Not a good sign.

“Why?”

Both of Cade’s eyebrows climb his forehead in disbelief at my backtalk. What did he think, I was just going to say, “Yes, sir?”

Cade and I stay locked in an epic staredown until he lunges for me, snagging me by the upper part of my arm. I cry out. He’s not hurting me, just scaring the shit out of me. Cade pushes me inside his darkened office and points to a chair. “Sit.”

I hope he sees my what-the-fuck expression and interprets it appropriately.

He must, because he sighs, and then amends his demand with, “Please.”

Since his southern accent makes my nipples tingle, I sit down, but not without huffing so he knows it killed me to do so.

Cade takes a seat behind his desk and gets back to internet shopping or whatever he’s doing on his laptop. Am I really just going to sit here until he’s finished? All because he’s mad at hearing me tell him to shove his thirty-three minutes?

Give me a break.

“Can I go now?” I ask and then lean over to pick up a piece of paper on his desk, inspecting it.

He snatches the paper from my grip. “No, you can’t.”

This is bullshit right here.

“I’m sorry, okay? You pissed me off and I shouldn’t have told you where to shove your timeframe.” I try for respectful and businesslike.

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