AWKWARD. THINGS WERE straight-up-vodka-without-a-twist awkward.
Devon stared at her over their respective ice waters. He. Just. Stared.
Finally, Becca couldn’t take it any longer. “For God’s sake, what?” she exclaimed.
He blinked, melted chocolate shuttered for an extended moment before he sighed. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Oh geez.
“Well, you did.” And really freaking well, if she could say so. But since she couldn’t without exasperating the buyer’s remorse Devon clearly had going on—
“What’s done is done,” she said. “So let’s just move on and forget about it.”
“Forget about it?” His brows were sky high, his jaw agape.
The man was actually surprised that a woman might want to forget his kisses.
Well, that was what happened when he went through life as a walking, talking example of sex-on-a-stick.
And it wasn’t so much that she wanted to pretend the kisses hadn’t happened — hand’s down the best ones of her life — as it was that she needed the money from the job.
Her mom was on the waiting list for an expensive program at her rehabilitation center, and they collected their fee upfront. Which was why she’d been scrimping and saving forever to get her in and couldn’t afford to lose a month’s salary.
“Yes,” she said. “We’re going to forget about it. We can eat pasta. I work on these files, and you’ll answer the six hundred or so emails floating about your inbox. Then we’ll drive back to the office, and you’ll forget all about The Kiss as you order me around until six. After which I’ll sneak out and drive to McKay’s.”
He’d been with her until she’d blown it and mentioned McKay’s. His frown had smoothed out, one side of his mouth had curled up. Then she’d gone and ruined it all.
“What’s at McKay’s?”
The waiter came by before she was forced to answer. She ordered the puttanesca — if her words didn’t put him off then hopefully the anchovies and garlic would — and Devon asked for a salad.
Seriously. A salad.
But she didn’t get to go on the offensive about the salad, not when he was fixing her in place with The Stare. The one that made the most difficult and stubborn of clients sit quiescently and do exactly as Devon wanted.
She didn’t have a chance in hell of resisting him, not when he looked at her like that.
“I work there.”
He frowned, two slashes of black brows pulling down and in. “You work for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Temporarily.”
“You’ve worked for me for five months.”
Becca had been lucky enough to get a six-month contract when the norm for maternity leave was only three, but apparently, Clarice had experienced some pretty serious complications. Becca had actually been hired right after Clarice’s doctor had ordered bedrest for the final three months of her pregnancy.
“I’ve only got one more before I’m off contract.”
Devon stilled.
She smiled. “Yeah, exactly. I have a life outside of Prestige. I have to, because in a few more weeks I’m gone. Maybe I would get an offer for another temp position, but there’s no guarantee.”
“And so you work at a bar.”
She traced her finger through the condensation on the outside of her water glass. “It’s got a restaurant too.”
“Which isn’t open at night,” he pointed out.
“And how do you know that?”
“How do I know about one of the rowdiest bars in this whole town? Because I was a professional athlete. We have the ability to discover the single place in every city where it’s the easiest to get into trouble. And trust me, Bex, McKay’s is it.”
Since she had, in fact, seen her fair share of trouble at the restaurant — okay, bar — Becca didn’t argue. She also didn’t point out the fact that he’d called her Bex.
It seemed both too familiar and comfortably intimate all at once.
And she liked it.
“I need the money.”
“For what? Drugs?”
Becca was so startled she knocked her water glass over. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Devon calmly swiped the files out of danger and mopped up the mess with his napkin. “So no drugs.”
“How could you honestly—?”
“I didn’t.”
“So why did you ask?”
“Because I like you a little scrambled.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably.” He glanced over her shoulder, and she felt the server come up behind her before setting their plates in front of them.
She decided to scramble him a little in return. “I can’t believe you’re eating a salad.”
He frowned. “Me neither. Hate this shit. Thought I was done with it when I retired.”
Becca twined a noodle around her fork and brought it her mouth, sighing in pleasure before chewing and swallowing. “No cursing.” Her lips twitched when his expression went contrite. “So why order it?”
Devon’s cheeks went slightly pink. “I’ve gained weight.”
Her eyes flicked to Devon’s middle — flat, even while sitting — then to his arms and chest. He did not look like a man who needed to cut back. “Ummm,” she said, “and where’d you put it?”
“Hell — er, heck — if I know.” He sighed. “I could barely button my pants this morning.”
Oh. Oh!
An episode from the week before flashed across her mind. Their CFO was Devon’s old teammate, and his assistant had offered to pick up Devon’s dry-cleaning for her. Becca, feeling swamped as always, had agreed.
“What?” he said grumpily, shoving a bite of lettuce into his mouth.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she prevaricated.
“I’m sure it’s not.”
She took another bite of carb-loaded deliciousness. “Well, Caleb’s secretary grabbed your clothes from the cleaner’s last week—” His curse halted her flow of words.
“Sorry,” he said when she gave him her version of The Stare. “I meant motherpucker.”
“Of course you did.” A roll of her eyes. “Do you think she gave me the wrong set of pants? They all kind of look the same.”
“Except mine have my name sewn in them.”
“You have your name sewn into your pants?”
Devon waved the question away. “Not the point.” A pause. “Caleb did something to them, shrunk them, had the waistband taken in.”
“That seems insane.”
“Former athletes, remember? Pranking each other is how we pass the time.” His expression went from irritated to pleased. “Oh, I so know how I’m going to get him back for this one.”
“Athletes seem to be a lot like children.”
He grinned, flagged down the waiter, and placed a double-order of spaghetti. “Can’t argue with you there.”