Page 30 of Ten Rules for Faking It
Everly leaned back even more, her laughter escalating. “Oh my. Does that look actually work on anyone?”
Pretending to sulk as he straightened in his seat, he rested one arm along the back of the couch. “My sister. Well, it used to. Not much works on her now.”
Everly picked up her cannoli and brought it to her lips, and all the humor fled from Chris’s being. She was sexy without even trying. When she took her bite, a little bit of the cream filling remained on her cheek. He pointed to it, wanting to swipe his thumb across the spot more than he wanted another dessert.
Laughing, she went from sexy to sweet in seconds. “Oops,”she said, picking up a napkin. She whisked the spot away and took another bite. She had one-third left when she looked at him through lowered lashes. She held it out to him.
“For real?”
“Yeah. I have a hookup. I can get more.”
Maybe there was something wrong with his brain. Maybe it short-circuited. What else would account for the fact that instead of taking it from her hand with his fingers, he leaned in and opened his mouth. Her brain must have been on the fritz, too, because despite her slight inhalation of a breath, she brought the pastry to his lips, feeding it to him. Their gazes were loaded missiles locked on one another, ready to detonate. His peripheral vision narrowed and his hand came up to loosely circle her wrist. It was Everly who touched her index finger to his mouth, to histongue. Jesus. She tastes better than the damn cannoli.
Everly gasped, and the moment broke. She jumped up from his couch, knocking her container to the couch. “I’m sorry. Oh, shit, did I get anything on your couch?” She swiped at it, somewhat madly, with a napkin.
“It’s fine. There’s nothing there,” Chris said, his voice like gravel sliding over concrete. What the hell had he just done?Sucked the finger of the woman you can’t stop thinking about. Thanks, Captain Obvious. It was a rhetorical question.Maybe there really was something wrong with his brain. He was talking to himself.Since you’re at it, how about you calm down your employee who’s going to wear a hole in the fabric of your cushion?
Chris covered her hand to stop her movements. “Ev.”
She jolted at the nickname. It’d come out of nowhere and, sadly, felt right. “I’m so sorry,” she said, looking down.
“Please don’t be. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”
Straightening, she looked past him and asked, “Can I use your washroom?”
She needed a minute. Good. He could use one, too. “Down the hall, second door on the right.”
When she walked away and he was sure she was out of sight, he let out a heavy sigh and flopped back against the couch. “What the hell?”
He only gave himself a second to shake it off. He could fix this. It was a moment. They werefriends,sort of. It was nothing. Scooping up both of their containers, he took them to the kitchen and recycled them. He grabbed them a couple of waters, debating whether or not to offer her wine or beer.That’s a great idea. You two could knock back a few and forget all about setting her up on dates.
Chris groaned again and dropped his head to the front of the fridge, the cold surface soothing his heated skin.
She’d go now. She’d come out and tell him she couldn’t do this, that finger sucking had not been on the menu. Everly would storm out, tell Stacey, who would, rightfully, kick his ass. He’d spend the next six months hiding in his office while Everly went on dates and laughed about her creepy boss who had a thing for sucking fingers.
“It’s not athing,” he said, feeling the need to defend himself. It was a damn moment, not a fetish.
The bathroom door opened, and Chris pushed off the fridge and turned, water in hand, his stomach sinking at the thought of her leaving. For all his education and experience in communications, when she appeared in the doorway to his kitchen, he couldn’t think of one sensible thing to say.
[11]
Everly’s heart was trying its very best to burst right out of her chest. She wouldn’t run. Ten Rules for Faking It were already in play, and she was done chickening out over everything. It was nothing.Nothing doesn’t involve sticking your finger in a man’s mouth. Your boss’s mouth.Oh God. Was it possible to actually panic herself to invisibleness? She pressed her nails into the fleshy part of her palms. She would not run. It was a momentary lapse of sanity, and now she’d play it off. They’d get it on…Holy hell, Everly! You most definitely will not get it or anything else on with him.She meantget on withtheir night. Their work. But apparently, her brain was broken.
Chris lifted his head from the fridge. She wasn’t sure what he’d been doing, but maybe he felt as stupid as she did.People never feel the way you do. You can’t know that.He stepped forward, and her breath got caught, tangled in her throat. A weird, garbled sound left her mouth. Of course.Because things aren’t awkward enough, you need to add strange noises.
“Are you okay? I truly apologize,” Chris said, his eyes searching hers as if they held some secret.
He was sorry? He hadn’t stuck his finger…Don’t. Just don’t.“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t leaving. Rule six: Be bold, even if it gives you hives. She scratched at her stomach. Staying was brave.
“I respect you and didn’t mean to cross a line. You’re an employee, and I hope I haven’t made things unbearable. I understand if you want to leave.”
Does he want me to leave? Wait, what was unbearable? My finger? It tasted like cannoli. That’s hardly unbearable. I can’t leave! I’m being brave.
“But I hope you don’t,” he said, passing her the water.
Pasting on a smile that probably made her look like someone was pinching her, she took the water. “Not leaving. Sorry about the awkward moment. If we could avoid talking about it for the rest of ever, I’d truly appreciate it.”
He gave a curt nod. “Done. Absolutely.”
