Page 74 of Take It Offline

CHAPTER 25

BREAKING NEWS, I WANT MORE

CHARLIE

“Hey, while you’re out, can you see if they’ve got the will to live? I can’t find mine.”

I’ve spent the last hour arguing with a hothead in Subsea who needs seven hundred documents transmitted to a vendor but wants it done in a way so shoddy that Nixon would have given it the green light.

I’m one step away from cc’ing his boss in a reply that starts withGoand ends with every curse word I know, including a few in dead languages.

“I suppose you think you’re cute,” Emma says.

“I know I am, and more than that, I know you do too.”

She smiles as she shakes her head. She does that now—smiles at me. I shouldn’t get used to it; this arrangement has a shelf life. I know better than to get attached, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to collect every smile I can.

It’s bad enough that every taste of Emma only makes me hungrier. Feasting on her isn’t enough. I want to know her.

Why is it her parents live in that big house while Emma’s crammed into a tiny box? They clearly get along.

Why is she chasing Logan, who has as much depth as a kiddie pool, when she could run circles around him?

How long before she comes to her senses and throws me to the curb?

She shrugs, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips. “You’re kind of adorable… when you’re not mouthing off.”

I throw my head back with a laugh. Fuck, I love it when she lets loose. What I would give to crack her shell the rest of the way.

“Coffee?” she asks.

“Please.”

This is our routine now. Smiles and coffees, early mornings and long afternoons, listening before reacting. Small steps toward understanding.

She’s back in the time it takes to send my actual response to the hothead, which is so safe it could babysit a toddler. Some days I really hate my job.

“I thought we rolled out a request form to all the DC teams,” Emma says, peering over my shoulder. Today she smells like dessert and luxury and midnight trysts on thousand-dollar sheets. I want to bury my nose in her neck and never leave.

I lean back in my chair, getting closer to her and that addictive scent. “Digital did. But I know these guys, and making them fill out fifteen fields on a form every time they have a request will only piss them off. So we never implemented it.”

There’s a long, deep breath and release. It’s her go-to move when she wants to argue with me but is holding her tongue.

“Okay,” she finally says, and I can practically see her mind working in real time. This is her in project mode. It’s a sexy look on her. “So, you’re what? Individually recording every request in the report?”

Lips pressed together, I nod. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

Of course she does. She’s a fountain of good ideas.

“I might.” Called it.

I can’t help but grin. “You meanyou do. Don’t be afraid to own it.”

A blush brightens her cheeks, and thank you, I’ll take that win.

When she points to my laptop with a brow raised in question, I wave her forward. She gets to work, and I know better than to interrupt, so I simply sit back and enjoy my second favorite Emma-related activity. I watch.

“What if we automated it?” she asks, not looking away from the screen. There’s a cute little crease forming between her brows.

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