Page 147 of The Play

Darcy shot him a look. “You keep saying that.”

“Yeah, the problem was I couldn’t trust any of those people the board kept suggesting. But I’ve fixed that. I’ve found the right person. You’re going to do it.”

She gaped at him. “What? Are you kidding? I’m not qualified—”

“You’re literally the most qualified,” Grant interrupted her.

“I sincerely doubt that.” Darcy tossed her hair. “Did you get drunk on all the testosterone in there or something?”

“Now, back then, I wasn’t qualified. But I learned. You’re better off than I was when I got started. And the way you keep saying I can’t do this forever, you’re right. I want to focus more on product development, and yes, on this team.”

“And now that you actually have a life you want to live, you’d like to stop working eighteen-hour days,” Darcy said. As usual, cutting right to the heart of the matter—which was why she was going to make such a kick ass CEO.

Grant nodded, and she sighed.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“Think about what?” Deacon was standing there, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved button-up in a silky nearly transparent dark navy fabric. He looked insanely hot, and Grant nearly whimpered.

“My new job,” Darcy said, patting him on the arm. “Great work out there today, Deac.”

“Thanks,” Deacon said. He turned to Grant. “You ready to go?”

He nodded.

“Have fun,” Darcy said with a sly smile. “Enjoy not thinking about anything.”

Grant shot her a look as she walked away, but it turned out she was right. It was nearly impossible to think about anything at all when Deacon leaned down, put his hand on the small of his back and led him to the door that went to the VIP parking garage, where his car was waiting.

“What was that about?” Deacon asked as he waved Richard off, opening the car door for Grant himself.

As if the man hadn’t already reduced him to mush.

“What was what about?” Grant asked as he slid into the car and Deacon followed him.

He pressed the intercom button and let Richard know they’d be going to the Pirate’s Booty instead of his place.

“You and Darcy. You looked intense. And she looked unsure, which isn’t something I associate with her.”

“Oh. Well. I offered her my job,” Grant said.

Unlike Darcy, Deacon did not look surprised. “Well, you couldn’t do it forever?” he said. “And she seems very good at what she does.”

“She’s as good as me, if not better at the day-to-day employee management and operations. She’s got a fantastic head for business, and she should take what I’m offering. Will she? I hope so. But we’ll see.”

“And what about you?” Deacon settled back against the leather seat and flashed a smile that shorted Grant’s brain out. He wanted to climb him like a freaking tree.

He nearly told Richard to forget about the Pirate’s Booty entirely and take them to his penthouse, so they could be alone.

“What about . . .” Grant trailed off as Deacon reached over and took his hand, tugging his body closer as the car started to move.

“You seem very distracted today,” Deacon teased. “What will you do if Darcy takes your job?”

Grant rolled his eyes. Deacon knew exactly what he was doing to him. Like he really needed to be seduced by this point. “I can’t imagine why. And what will I do? Work more on product development. Manage this football team.”

Deacon’s thumb was swiping across his hand in leisurely, intoxicating touches. “And that’s what you want? Not what you feel you should do?”

“You of all people know that’s not always an easy distinction to make,” Grant said, swallowing hard. Deacon’s fingers had tucked their way under the cuff of his suit jacket, flicking open his cuff links and finding bare skin at his wrist, stroking there.

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