Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Right. The team.” Her eyes held mine, and I didn’t miss the mischievous glint there. “Very professional.”
“Extremely professional,” I echoed, matching her tone, but my hands itched to reach out and touch her. Which I resisted, of course.
“Nothing unprofessional will happen whatsoever.”
I shoved my hands into my pants pockets, fighting a smile. “Absolutely not.”
“Good.” She picked up her laptop and tucked it under her arm, but she didn’t move right away. “Because we have boundaries now.”
“Very firm boundaries.”
“Exactly.” She paused, her fingernails drumming once against the laptop. “Although Vegas is pretty far from New York.”
“Three time zones,” I said, staring at her mouth.
She licked her bottom lip. “And what happens in Vegas…”
“Stays in Vegas,” I finished, my voice lower.
She smiled in a way that made my pulse spike. “Just making sure we’re on the same page.”
I swallowed back a groan. “Morgan, we’re supposed to be taking this slow. Remember?”
“I do remember.” She tilted her head slightly, studying me. “But you’re the one who booked us a trip to Vegas.”
“For work,” I countered.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, clearly amused. “And I’m sure you were thinking very professional thoughts when you considered that both of us would be going.”
I had been. Mostly. The fact that it would mean several days of seeing her outside of the office, working closely together, maybe finding moments alone—that had been entirely coincidental. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.
“I was thinking about the product launch,” I said.
“Sure you were.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile was soft and affectionate.
“I’m serious,” I insisted, though I couldn’t hide my grin.
“I believe you.” She was trying not to laugh now. “You’re very serious. Very focused on work.”
“I am.”
“So focused that you couldn’t pay attention during my presentation this morning?” she pointed out with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. She had me there.
Her smile widened. “That’s what I thought.”
I narrowed my gaze, just a bit. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Maybe a little.” She exhaled a breath that wasn’t quite steady. “Actually, it’s nice to know I’m not the only one who’s distracted.”
“You’re distracted?” I asked, even though I could see it in her eyes. The same desire I felt.
“Completely.” Her voice softened. “I spent all of Sunday thinking about Saturday night.”
Heat spread through me at the admission, the memory of her in my lap making my dick twitch very inappropriately considering where we were. “Yeah?” I had to work to keep my voice steady and my hands to myself.
“Yeah.” She bit her bottom lip, and I had to force myself not to stare at her mouth. “And then I came to work this morning determined to be professional and focus on the launch, and you were sitting across from me at this conference table looking at me like…”
“Like what?” I asked, stepping closer without meaning to.
“Like you wanted to do very unprofessional things.”
I didn’t bother denying it. “Would it help if I apologized?”
“Not really,” she said with a small, warm smile. “Because I was having the same unprofessional thoughts.”
We stood there, the space between us charged with everything we weren’t saying. Everything we were trying not to do. Yet the emotional undercurrent felt solid, like we were both invested in exploring this carefully. Together.
I exhaled a deep breath. “This slow thing is going to be harder than I thought,” I admitted.
“For me, too. But, I think it’s the right call. We should figure out what this is before we…you know.” She gestured vaguely, her expression a mix of amusement and sincerity.
“Jump back into my car for another make-out session?” I suggested, keeping it light, but the heated memory flashed between us.
Her cheeks flushed pink once again. “Something like that.”
“For the record,” I said quietly. “I’m very interested in figuring out what this is.”
“Good.” Her smile turned genuine, less teasing. More real. “Because so am I.”
She headed for the door and I watched her go, trying not to notice the way her skirt hugged her curves—her ass, especially. Then she was gone, leaving me standing there with a smile I couldn’t quite get rid of, along with the unsettling, impossible to ignore feeling that I was already in deeper than I’d planned.
* * *
The next two weeks blurred into a steady rhythm of deadlines, strategy meetings, and long nights in the office. The charger launch was picking up speed, CES planning was in full swing—booth designs approved, demo units prepped, and travel logistics sorted for the team—and somehow, despite the chaos, things with Morgan felt easy and natural.
We hadn’t crossed any lines since that night in my car, not even a kiss, but the flirting hadn’t stopped and it felt suspiciously like…dating. I liked getting to know her piece by piece in her established environment. Learning all those small, intimate details about her, a person that I genuinely liked—what made her laugh, what fired her creativity, watching how she talked with her hands when she got excited about something.