“What? Did you say you bought me a shirt?” Joey asks with genuine curiosity, stepping closer to her.
She shrugs, averting her gaze. “It’s not that big a deal.” She reaches into her Macy’s bag and pulls out a light blue T-shirt, holding it against her chest. “It was on sale, and I thought it would look nice on you. You look good in blue.”
I smile at her thoughtfulness, watching as Joey takes another step closer to Brooke. She holds the shirt out to him and he takes it with an astonished expression. She looks at me and grins. “Anyway, I’m sorry I took so long. It won’t happen again.” And before Joey can give her a thank you or react in any way to her gift, she picks up her bags and walks into the shop.
“Damn. This shirt is fucking fabulous. I kind of feel bad for the boyfriend comment,” Joey says.
“You should. That was really nice of her.”
He shoots me a challenging look, but it’s short lived. Brooke did well and Joey knows it. And the smile he tries to hide as he folds the shirt against his chest isn’t missed. Once he’s done, he smoothes out his skin once more in the mirror behind him, tucking the shirt underneath his arm. “Do you think I have wrinkles?” Oh, Lord.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Your skin is flawless.”
He grins. “You know why, don’t you?”
I immediately hold up my hand to stop him from talking. “Please, spare me the ‘semen is the fountain of youth’ conversation. I find it hard to believe that mine and Juls’ swallowing habits are directly related to the number of crow’s feet we end up getting.” I shake my head at the memory of that discussion a few years ago. Joey really is a piece of work, trying to convince us to up our blow-job game to ward off any fine lines.
“You good?” I ask. I need to go get ready for my visit with Reese, knowing full well his lunch break is the best time to get him alone.
He smiles. “I’m great. Go properly thank that man before I do it for you.” He arches his brow, the wicked gleam in his eyes beaming at me.
I chuckle at his comment as we both walk back into the shop. Practically sprinting up the stairs, I run straight for my lingerie drawer with only one thought in mind. Naughty Dylan is about to come out to play, and she’s not going to hold anything back either. Reese Carroll, you have no idea what you’re in for.
This is crazy. Seriously, completely insane. I’m riding the elevators of the Walker & Associates building, my knees shaking against each other under my oversized trench coat. Glancing down at myself, I tighten the belt around my waist and bite the inside of my cheek. I’ve never done anything like this before or even remotely close to this. I mean sure, I’ve shown up to Reese’s work multiple times and given him an office quickie, but I’m always dressed appropriately when I do it. Never, and I mean never, have I pulled a stunt like what I’m about to do. I try to shake off my nervousness as the doors ping open. Stepping out onto the twelfth floor, I begin the stroll toward his reception area.
I need motivation, so I think of the delivery he sent me as I walk down the long hallway. A brand new car definitely deserves this type of a thank you. A brand new car that drives like a fucking dream.
Sorry, Sam.