Holy mother of god, I think as I turn away from my boss to grab some stuff from the new coolers. I was a few seconds away from jumping into his arms. If his stomach hadn't rumbled just now, I probably would have just peeled myself out of my workout clothes and spread myself open here on the counter.
Shit, he looks even hotter in jeans and a hockey jersey than he does in his designer suits. He's still pretty stiff in his weekend getup. His posture. Maybe his dick, too? I put my knuckle in my mouth, telling myself I can't be thinking about his dick. Ever. Maybe I should get him to yell at me again so I stop thinking with my clit and maintain my professional dignity.
"Let me guess," I say. "You forgot to eat breakfast again."
Tim grins and hops up on the counter, sitting beside me as I lay out ingredients. I like this side of him much more than uptight, yelling Tim. "Guilty," he says. "I'm meeting everyone at the arena at one, but I don't think I can make it until then."
I decide I can whip him up a quick omelet since my dad's guys haven't disconnected the old stove. I set to work quickly chopping up some veggies while the butter melts in the pan. "What's going on at the arena today?"
His eyebrows shoot up and I can tell I've said something off. "Shit. Alice, didn't Donna get you a ticket? Fuck."
I shake my head. "Ticket for what?"
He leans in and plucks a bell pepper from my pile as I dump the veggies into the butter to soften. I watch his long fingers bring the food to his mouth and I have to look away from the sight of his lips wrapping around the pepper. He bites and says, with his mouth full, "Today is the first game of the Stanley Cup playoffs. We have a suite for the staff since we represent the--"
"The players union," I finish for him, nodding. "I knew that. I googled you before my interview. My family doesn't really follow hockey. Hey, will your brother play today?" I ask him about the Fury as I whisk the eggs and begin scrambling them in the pan with the veggies. He says his brother Ty will be starting his first game with the Pittsburgh team. I guess that means Juniper will be at the game.
Tim watches me as I make the omelet and says, "I'm truly sorry that you weren't included in the celebration today, Alice. Do you have plans? Can you join us?"
I slide his eggs onto a plate and frown. "I smell like a gym sock and I'm wearing a tank top. I think I'd be pretty cold in a hockey arena," I say, handing him a fork.
I cross my arms in anticipation as Tim takes a bite. His face seems to melt and he says, "Good God, Alice, this is the best omelet I've ever had. What did you do to these eggs?"
I tell him how I used fresh Amish butter from a farm about an hour away and ordered eggs from them, too. "See the color? The yolks are almost saffron. You don't get anything like that at the grocery store." I smile.
I see a vein tick in Tim's neck as he eats, and I'm surprised by how delighted I am that he likes my food. He finishes chewing and says, "I'd really love for you to come with me to the arena, Alice. I'm pretty sure I've got a turtleneck in my office. You could wear that and I'd be happy to get you one of my brother's jerseys. You should probably have a Stag jersey for work purposes, anyway, since he is a client."
Holy shit, he's offering to let me wear one of his shirts, I think, wondering if he can see the wet spot I'm sure is appearing in my pants at the thought of slipping his shirt over my head. It would be nice to see everyone from work in a social atmosphere. What the hell, I decide, and nod. "As long as you buy me a whisky to warm me up if my legs get cold." And then I feel breathless, because Tim Stag smiles at me.