“I made some cookies today and made far too many, so I thought I’d bring some for you and the guys.”

“That’s nice of you, Misty, but I’m the only one here. Everyone else has gone home for the night.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t realize how late it was.”

I have a feeling that she knew exactly what time it was. She chose this time carefully because she knew that I’d be here alone.

A few months ago, Misty and I hooked up. Truth be told, it never should have happened. But I was half a dozen beers in, and my cock was screaming that it wanted something more than my hand for a change.

Misty was at the bar, drowning her sorrows as well, and the two of us ended up back at her place in bed together.

The sex was fine—from what I remember. But for me, it was a mistake. I guess it wasn’t as much for Misty, though. She’s been trying to get an encore ever since.

The revealing outfit she’s wearing tells me that she’s going to try again tonight.

Don’t get me wrong—Misty is cute. Any guy would be lucky to have her, but she’s not my type. I know that she’s looking for a husband—someone to take care of her financially while she handles the house and cooking.

How do I know that’s what she wants? Because she told me when we were drinking.

I don’t think I want to be that guy. Hell, I can barely take care of myself most of the time. I’m lucky I’m able to keep my dog alive.

Misty walks further into my office and sets the cookies down on the small table by the door. “Well, the cookies will be here for the guys tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I mutter. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

She walks over to my desk, swaying her hips along the way. The low-cut shirt and short jean skirt leave little to the imagination. She looks good, but the answer is still no.

As much as I love getting laid, I’m not going to continue to lead someone on when I know there’s no possibility of it going further. If she was okay with keeping things casual, I would jump at the chance, but I know she’s not. Misty wants a husband—not a boy toy.

She stops in front of me, leaning against the corner of my desk. She pushes her long blonde hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms to try to push her tits together.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“Just ordering some parts.”

“What do you say that when you’re done, you and I could get out of here and go get a drink?”

Trying to be nice, I reply, “I’m not really in the mood tonight.”

Misty isn’t getting the message, though. She takes her finger and gently runs it over my shoulder. “Well, we could skip the drink and just go straight for dessert.” The way she says dessert is filled with so much innuendo that there’s no questioning her meaning.

I guess I’m going to have to try to get it through her head…again.

“Misty, you and I have talked about this. It’s not going to happen.”

“We could have so much fun,” she purrs.

“It’s not a good idea. I’m sorry.”

For the briefest of moments, I see her face fall. But she doesn’t wear a frown for long. Misty is too nice to make anyone feel bad or uncomfortable.

“Okay, I understand,” she says, painting the smile back on her face. “I guess I’ll just talk to you later. Enjoy the cookies.”

I feel bad, but I know that if I don’t draw a sharp line in the sand, she won’t get the message. And I don’t want this to keep happening. I’d rather she stop wasting her efforts on me and go find someone else who could make her happy.

She goes to walk out of the office, but before she goes, I decide to pick her brain a little.

“Hey, Misty. What do you know about Liz Lawson?”