Page 34 of The Back Forty
My brows raise. "What about cookies?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter, boss. When you eat cookies, you eat them in one single bite."
"Less crumbs."
She throws her arms up in the air. "That's crazy, Lawson. You're not even enjoying the cookie. You're just shoving it in there to avoid a mess."
"How many bites does it take for you to finish a cookie?"
She doesn't hesitate. "At least four. I savor it."
I laugh. "I've seen you eat those cookies that the flight attendant's hand out. There's always crumbs all over the seat back table and your lap."
"But at least I enjoyed them and didn't just dump the bag in my mouth like a monster."
I chuckle. "I guess you're right."
“Okay, you set like a thousand alarms yet snooze every single one until your last and then get up. Like what’s the point?”
“How do you know that?” I raise a brow.
“Um, hello, hotel rooms are paper thin genius.”
And that has me pausing, because if she’s hearing my alarms is she hearing something else? Namely, the occasional women that I know in the cities where we travel for work and bring back to my room. It’s meaningless, of course, something to pass the time and it’s not often. At least, not that often. I don't always sleep with them, sometimes we talk work and strategy, but being on the road gets lonely and since Dani was hired, it's been much less that I've allowed anything to happen. It’s extremely hard to get turned on by another woman when your assistant is batting her dark brown eyes at you across boardrooms all day.
Suddenly her gaze takes on a different look and I wonder if we’re wading into new territory now. Because the way Dani knows me and my quirks feels like she’s been paying more attention to me than what is necessary for the job.
I adjust myself on the bed, trying not to think about that too much.
“You feel better now that you’ve shamed me for my quirks?” I ask.
She smiles softer. “Yeah, a little bit. Let’s just act like this didn’t happen.”
No chance in hell.
“Sure,” I say, and the smirk I give her feels half-earned and fully dangerous. I clear my throat lightly. “So, the real reason I came in here was to tell you… if you want me to handle Texas tomorrow, I will. I didn’t think about your plans, or what you might’ve wanted and that was selfish of me. These two weeks are supposed to be your vacation, a chance at going to the State Fair this year, and I bulldozed straight through it without thinking. I can’t even remember if you went last year.”
Her expression shifts like a shutter clicked open. Wide eyes. Lips parting like she’s not sure if she’s surprised or impressed or one second away from telling me to fuck off.
“There’ll be other pitches,” I say, softer now. “You don’t have to drop everything for this one if you want to stay here and be with your sister.”
There’s a beat. And then—“Hell no,” she snaps. “You’re not going back on your offer now. I’m doing the damn pitch in Texas.”
I bark out a laugh. “So, I take it you want to come?”
Her eyes flicker, widen more.
Shit.
It hits me a second too late.
Come. I saidshe’s coming.
She wants to come.
Right now.
Her lips part, wet and glossy, and I glance down without thinking. Just a flick of my eyes—but it’s a mistake. A fatal one. Because now all I can think about is the way her mouth looked when she was panting a few minutes ago. The way her chest is still rising too fast beneath that soft, clingy shirt. The color of her brown nipples, pebbled against the thin cotton. The flush along her collarbone from the orgasm I wasn’t supposed to walk in on. And the fact that she’s thinking about coming right now while lying next to me on a bed in my house, only inches apart.
