Page 65 of Defended By Love

“Don’t even think about it,” I warn him.

Grant nods absently. Then, quick as a flash (but not the Flash, despite how similar their suits look), he rubs several finger streaks of chocolate across my cheek.

“Better?” he asks, smiling like a jackass.

“No,” I answer, a cross between stunned and shrill. No one in the history of ever has pulled a stunt like that with me.

He looks at me completely serenely. He reaches up to cup each side of my face in my chocolate-covered hands. For a moment, he just stares into my eyes. Contentment, bliss, joy, call it what you will, stretches over us like a protective blanket. Then, he leans forward. I close my eyes, anticipating the perfection of his kiss.

Except, it doesn’t come.

Instead, he rubs the side of his face against mine, rubbing infinitely more chocolate all over my face. With two hands, I shove him backwards with hell in my eyes and a smile on my lips.

“Well, I say that you look absolutely perfect now. Just like me.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to even think about it.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t,” he says, still grinning. “I rarely think about anything before I do it.”

“If I didn’t want to fuck you so badly, I swear I’d kill you right now,” I hiss at him.

I settle for throwing a powdered donut at him. He lets it hit him, even though he could’ve easily used his gravity powers to veer it off track. The donut leaves a ring of powdered sugar on his cheek. A target of just the place I’d like to press a kiss onto to share this moment.

As if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, Grant’s smile grows. He’s beaming. Like this is all just fun and games.

Except, technically, maybe it is. Even though I’m pissed, I’m also smiling like an idiot. Like Grant.

“Hey, sorry. We knocked, but I don’t think you could hear us over…” comes a voice from the door.

Standing in the doorway, all finding a way to peer in, is the entire Blue Jeans Crew—all the employees who actually participate in Beth’s team building activities. The ones who wear blue jeans on Friday. The ones who I scoffed at constantly with Dominic.

The ones who I couldn’t hear knock over me telling Grant that I want to fuck and kill him.

Lovely.

“Hi.” Grant sticks out a still-chocolatey hand. “I’m Grant, Hailey’s soulmate.”

I swear, you can hear the gust of wind as every single one of the mini crowd’s heads turn towards me.

“You have to stop introducing yourself like that,” I spit at Grant. “He’s not my soulmate.”

“To be betrothed,” Grant amends.

“Acquaintance,” I correct with a cutting glance.

“Acquaintance with sometimes benefits?” Grant counters.

I pause for a second, then nod. “I’ll allow it.”

It’s like every single person there is seeing me for the first time. Jaws drop. Eyes pop. Gasps gasp. And I soak it all in. For once—and only because the day will reset—it’s nice to be known as more than the office workaholic.

“Come in,” I say, breaking the silence. “Thanks so much for joining us for—”

“Coffee and Karaoke?” Beth interrupts. Her normally soft voice has an intense edge to it.

She picks up a muffin, stares at it like it’s Louis St. Clair’s jockstrap.

I cringe. Right, this all was her idea… that I stole off her desk.

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