I nod and regain my composer. “Yes, I would. That pair happened to be a favorite of mine.”
He runs a hand through his hair as he smoothes out his tie with the other. “Too bad, they’re also a favorite of mine.” He arches his brow and I grip the doorknob tighter. Holy fuck. “I suppose I could get you another pair. Although, I’m not accustomed to perusing lingerie shops, and I might get the wrong ones. Maybe you should go with me.”
Oh, man. The thought of Reese buying me panties is unbelievably hot. I can picture him, walking around and studying each pair with his curious stare, his hands raking through his hair when he can’t find the ones he’s looking for. I smile at the image, but quickly shake it off. I shouldn’t seem too affected by this guy. “I’m sorry, aren’t I standing in the office of a CPA? You’re a partner right?” He nods, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me. “Then a smart guy like you, who I’m assuming didn’t fuck his way to the top, shouldn’t have a problem finding them on his own. Unless, you did fuck your way to the top?” I cock an eyebrow and grin as he shakes his head, trying desperately to hold back his smile. “You can send them by way of your flour delivery boy.” His grin bursts through as I quickly exit his office, my cheeks burning from my flushed state.
“Well?” Juls asks as we make our way back to the bakery.
“Well nothing. He’s not married, apparently.” I keep a straight face, but feel like I’m radiating from the inside out. Giving Reese a lunchtime blow job has made my week, and I can’t get his reaction to it out of my head. His widened eyes as I pulled him out. His face when he came. The feel of his hands in my hair. I shake my head and snap out of my stupor.
She laughs. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to here. But I’m your best friend, Dylan, and I know that face. You like him.”
“I’m sorry, did you get the sense fucked out of you back there? I do not like him. He was my wedding hook up.”
“First of all, yes, I did get the sense fucked out of me as I always do with Ian. The man is an Adonis.”
“TMI,” I chuckle.
“And secondly, you totally like him; otherwise, you wouldn’t have cared if he was married or not.”
I shake my head. “Please. The only reason why I cared was because the idea of sleeping with a married man was eating away at me. Now, that feeling of shame is gone.”
She pulls up in front of the shop and puts her Escalade in park. “And now that feeling of shame has been replaced with love?”
I bark out a laugh and open the door. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We still on for drinks tomorrow night?”
“Hell, yes. Give JoJo kisses for me.”
I wave to her before stepping into the shop, spotting Joey pacing behind the counter.
His hands are continually tugging at the ends of his hair and he looks thoroughly stressed and irritated. Turning toward the sound of me entering, he drops his hands dramatically. “For fuck’s sake. I have been dying here while you two whores played castrate the adulterer. What happened?”
I walk behind the counter to join him and down my now completely cold coffee. “Calm down, you queen. We didn’t castrate anybody.”
He raises a brow suspiciously. “Well, why the hell not? Wasn’t that the whole point of storming over there?”
I’m about to answer when the shop door opens. Joey straightens up and sharply turns toward the door. “We’re closed,” he barks at the customer as I fold over in laughter.
“Joey.” I nudge him and he smiles. “He’s just kidding, sir, how can I help you?”
The gray-haired man smiles and moves up to the counter. “Good afternoon. Do you have any tarts? I love tarts and haven’t had one in years.” He eyes up my display case and taps lightly on the glass with his hands.
“I’m a bit of a tart, sugar,” Joey says in his overly flirtatious voice.
“Good Lord. No, sir, I’m sorry, I don’t make tarts. Although, maybe I will. What kind do you like?”
He smiles sweetly as his eyes light up. “Oh, all kinds. Strawberry, blueberry, kiwi, they’re all delicious.”
I giggle at his enthusiasm and pull out a notepad, scribbling down a reminder. “I’ll tell you what; I will personally make some tarts and have them in the shop ready for you by the end of the week. How does that sound?”
“That’s perfect. Thanks, sugar. I’ll stop in sometime on Friday.” He winks at me before turning and leaving the shop, the door dinging closed behind him.