“You’re good at that.” I shoot a dark look at Daisy, and she grins broadly before I face Jamie. “Last week, she talked me into taking her to lunch where she exchanged gossip for gyros.”
Of course, learning more about my boss was worth the fifteen dollars.
Like the fact he hasn’t attended a party like the one at Mr. B’s for pleasure in over two years.
“You sneaky, sneaky girl,” Jamie tells Daisy, fishing around in the takeout bag. A moment later, Daisy happily accepts the bribe.
“And I hate to do this, but can you leave your phone up here?” When my best friend’s eyebrows lift, Daisy hurriedly explains, “Jace hates phones with a passion. Plus, one of his VIPs is stopping by today, and he’s big on privacy.”
Jace had surprised us this morning with news that Mr. B wants to check the progress on his table. I’m not sure if I can face the elusive B without imagining his Doublemint twin blowjob.
“I promise I’m not going to sell sexy secrets, but okay.” Jamie places her phone on Daisy’s desk then looks at me. “Ready to eat, love?” When I suck in my cheeks, she grins broadly and gives Daisy a questioning look. “I’ve just got to ask—does he call you that, too?”
“Negative. He didn’t even call Michaela that when she worked here, and … they were very friendly.”
Michaela. Jace had said that name during our interview, but this is the first time Daisy’s mentioned her. There’s a part of me that desperately wants to question what happened—and what exactly does she mean by very friendly—but I feel Jamie’s gaze burning into the side of my face. If I say something, she’ll just point out that the tension between Jace and me is all too real.
And it’s not.
At least, it’s not supposed to be.
Thankfully, we talk instead about Jamie’s upcoming neonatal seminar in Ohio from the moment we sit down to eat our lunch. I’m almost in the clear as we finish the last of our chow mein but then Jace taps on my door.
Goddammit it.
He sticks his head in before I tell him it’s okay to enter my office. “B will be here in twenty minutes, Williams, but I—” His dark brows tug together in surprise as his eyes land on my guest. “Jamie,” he says, inclining his head politely. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
Because he doesn’t smile and I notice that his attention drops down to her lap and my desk, as if he’s searching for something, I clear my throat. “Daisy took her phone at the door.”
The worry creasing his brow begins to fade. “Just making sure.” He glances up at Jamie. “I like to protect my … interests.”
“I completely get it. But I miss my phone so much that I was just on my way out.” She tosses the empty takeout boxes in my wastebasket. “I’m ready to go home and crash and—” She freezes when the door creaks open, and we’re faced with Jace’s bare torso. “Jesus, Exley. Where’s your shirt?”
Good question. Where is his shirt?
He had on one this morning. I had begrudgingly admired the way the long-sleeve tee hugged his ripped arms while he told me about B’s visit. And the way he moved his thumb around the neckline when our eyes met from across the workshop an hour after that. So, where the hell is it now?
Zeroing in on the tattoo spanning his muscular pecs—it’s an intricate, black and gray mix of tribal and roses in full bloom—I swallow hard in a desperate effort to push down the pressure swelling in my throat. I’m not the only one feeling the aftershock of shirtless Jace Exley because Jamie coughs nervously.
Her brown eyes are enormous and they haven’t moved from my boss’s chest.
I can’t exactly say I blame her for staring.
“You’re meeting B without a shirt?” I say at last, my husky voice drawing his blue eyes to mine. They narrow in amusement.
“Hadn’t planned on it. I’m on my way to grab a clean shirt since I want to look … professional.” This is one of those moments where his accent is obvious, and the crisp consonants and stretched vowels sound even more enticing when paired with his current state of undress. “If you think going without might help me move more product, though, I’ll—”
“No,” I breathe, and he leans a tan shoulder against the doorframe and chuckles. “I mean, wear a shirt. Is there … is there something you needed?”
“Check your email. I’ve got someone from FetCon calling me every day or two, and I’ve sent her your way so she’ll leave me the fuck alone.”
“FetCon?”
“Where all your wildest fetishes come to life,” he drawls and from the other side of my desk, Jamie lets out a low whistle.
“Got it.” I cross my arms over my chest, hating that my nipples have hardened beneath my blouse thanks to his lack of attire and fetish talk. “I’ll get right to it. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Jace’s full lips quiver at the corners. For several seconds, he challenges my stare. I try like crazy not to ogle the V-taper that disappears into his jeans but I can’t help but take a quick peek when he backs away from my door. He drags his hand over his chest, and I picture my fingers there, splaying over his tattoo, racing over taut muscles.
“That’s all for now, love.” He looks at Jamie and grins. “It was good to see you again.”
He leaves—hopefully to put on clothes before he can wreak more havoc on my thoughts—and Jamie’s shoulders shake with laughter. “Remember that time he randomly changed shirts right before that assembly and Principal Verbeck lost her shit?”
“No, I don’t.” Cleaning my desk with a napkin, I don’t risk peering up at Jamie. She’ll call my lie faster than I can say Jace Exley Is Gorgeous because, of course, I remember. How the hell does one forget the sight of Jace Exley standing up in the middle of an auditorium and exposing his perfect body for no real reason other than to get a reaction?
“Sure you don’t. You know, my seventeen-year-old brain was sure he couldn’t get any sexier, but damn”—she casts a hopeful glance at my open door and sighs—“I was mistaken.”
“Jamie,” I moan.
“What? A girl can look, can’t she? Even if he did spend the last five minutes eye-humping her best friend.”
A few minutes later, I escort her back to Daisy’s office to collect her phone. As we leave the workshop and pass by the man in the suit who’s entering it, Jamie freezes from head to toe. She does a double take, and I lift my brows when I hear her swallow. Hard. She recovers fast, pretending to be more interested in what Daisy’s saying to her. I look back to see Mr. B giving my best friend’s ass an appreciative once over.
Luckily, he releases the door, letting it slam shut before my expression has a chance to change. I imagine he doesn’t give a damn whether I saw or not.
Just like Jace.
Ten
Jace
“What’s Bailon have you working on that’s so secretive?”
The moment I hear the voice on the other line, I grit my teeth because I regret taking time from my work to answer. It’s Andrew, Sonora’s friend, and it takes every bit of professionalism I have—and there’s not much as it is—not to hang up on the prick.