Page 25 of Falling into Place
Carly hushed him with a finger to her lips and immediately circled him, eyes traveling up and down his person critically. “They’re slim fit, not skinny.” She stepped back with a fist pressed to her chin. “Tuck it in and put the belt on.”
“Are these a little short?”
“No.”
He set the belt on the dresser and went to work stuffing the polo into his waistband, cocking an eyebrow at her tone. “You’re bossy when you’re styling.” As he slid the leather through the belt loops, he caught her eye, and she looked away. He avoided her gaze while he finished, too, because there was something strangely intimate about doing anything with a belt, even if he was putting it on rather than taking it off.
When he finished, he held out his arms. “Well?”
She looked him over again and stepped right up to his front, smoothing her hands along his shoulders and chest, surprising him with how easily she put her hands on him. “This looks pretty good,” she murmured, twisting around to look behind him. “I knew there was a butt in there.”
“Carly Porter.”
“What?”
He just blinked at her.
“Sorry, did I embarrass you?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
She shrugged. “It’s my job to make your assets stand out here, Brooks. Pun intended. How do you feel in this? Good? Want to try something else?”
“I don’t know.” The fabric hugged his thighs when he moved, which felt weird. Things just felt ... tight and on display. A terrifying thought suddenly occurred to him: What was going on in the groin area? The polo had been untucked and covering him when he walked out ... Shit. He quickly turned back around to stand in the doorway of the bathroom as if he was looking at the whole thing together in the mirror while surreptitiously making sure his junk wasn’t, like, on exhibit without the extra breathing room.
Carly’s head popped over his shoulder as if she stood on tiptoes. “I like this,” she said. “You look hot. But I want to see the gray Henley before we decide for sure.”
A pleasant warmth settled beneath his rib cage.Hot?He hadn’t been called that in years.
She gave him a smile and an eyebrow wag before turning on her heel.
He watched her through the mirror, a small smile on his face, considering this new Carly. One that poked fun at his clothes, wagged her eyebrows at him, and looked at his butt and called it part of her job.
She seemed to love it. The job, that is, not his ass.
Which is how I want it, I think.
“I’m surprised you don’t do this full time,” he said. “You’re in the zone right now, I can tell. I can’t imagine putting numbers into a spreadsheet gives you the same feeling.”
“It doesn’t,” she agreed. “And I’m working on it. I’m actually hoping this whole project with Sasha will impress my boss enough to make that happen.”
“Really?” Damn, Carly’s job was riding on this, too? That might be too much pressure.
“Yep.” She handed him the shorts and shirt with a meaningful glance toward the bathroom. “Which is why I’m determined to make you look as good as possible every chance I get.”
Definitely too much pressure.
“These are too short,” he said once he was dressed.
“Unlikely.”
“They are.”
“I got a nine-inch inseam. I could have gone with seven.”
The hell did that mean?
“Just let me see,” she demanded.
