Page 24 of Melt for You (Slow Burn 2)
“Sniffing around? How romantic.”
“Quit bustin’ my balls, lass. I’m helpin’ you get your heart’s desire. A little gratitude would be nice.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re interested.”
He pauses just long enough to make my ears perk up. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Yikes. That sounds scary.”
“Maybe I just want you to keep givin’ me that sweet, sweet pie of yours, lass. You ever think of that?”
His voice is warm with teasing laughter, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of me, because I’ve got a brand-new pair of scissors in my top drawer that would look lovely protruding from his eye socket.
“It’s too bad you got stuck in puberty, McGregor—you might’ve been a productive member of society one day.”
“Oh, I’m plenty productive, lass.”
“Name one way you’re productive that doesn’t involve the amount of sperm you produce. I’ll wait.”
He dissolves into gales of laughter that seem to continue forever. I listen, trying not to smile, until he’s caught his breath and comes back on the line. “Ach, you’re a hoora salty lassie. Pure dead brilliant.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“Now listen, this is important.”
I say drily, “I can hardly stand the anticipation.”
“When pretty boy asks you who gave you the flowers, just give him a little Mona Lisa smile and shrug. Don’t answer. Be coy as shit. If you can’t manage it, pretend you’re Mrs. Dinwiddle and do whatever you think she’d do.”
“I don’t have a mink coat and a silk fan handy. A girl needs props to make that kind of Scarlett O’Hara routine work. He’ll think I’m lame!”
Cam sighs. “He’ll think you’re mysterious. The less you say, the better.”
“Ouch. I know I’m awkward and weird, McGregor. You don’t have to rub it in.”
Over the line comes a blistering silence, then Cameron’s voice, hard as stone. “I don’t ever wanna hear you put yourself down again, Joellen. Don’t do it out loud, and don’t do it in your head, either. Show yourself some damn respect, woman, or no one else will.”
My cheeks heat. I chew the inside of my lip for a while, composing various scathing retorts, but none of them have any teeth because I know he’s trying to be supportive. Plus, he’s right.
Grr.
“Understood?” he prompts.
“Yes. Fine. Okay.”
“Good. Now get back to work. And Joellen?”
He still sounds mad, so I’m hesitant when I answer, “What?”
There’s a pause. He exhales, then says softly, “You’re not weird. You’re unique. There’s a difference.”
He hangs up before I can reply, leaving me staring at the phone in disbelief. What the hell just happened?
I can’t dwell on it, though, because Denny has arrived at my cubicle with a large cardboard box on a dolly. “Hey, kiddo! Special delivery!”
Shasta pops back up over the cubicle wall like a groundhog, eyes bugging out. “Another delivery? What is it?”
Why is this girl suddenly so interested in my business? “I wish I could tell you, but unfortunately my X-ray vision isn’t working today.”
