Page 11 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Angelo leaned back on the conference table and crossed his arms. She visibly tensed.

“So, how long are you going to keep up this little ruse?” He questioned. Obvious confusion crossed her face before she covered it with a blank, professional look.

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Taylor,” she replied. Any trace of her previously soft tone was gone. She meant business now.

I’ll show you who’s boss when I put my hand around your throat.

“Cut the shit, Allison,” Angelo grumbled. He finally revealed the fact he knew who she was, tired of this little game. “You can stop pretending.”

She huffed and stood abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she stared up at him intently. It was as if she were weighing her options, contemplating whether to confront him or flee. The silence hung heavily between them, charged with tension, as her brow furrowed in deep thought.

Suddenly, she jumped away from him as if burned by some invisible fire, her breath quickening. The sudden movement startled him, and for a moment, he was taken aback by the raw intensity of her reaction.

She took a few steps back, her cheeks flushed. The space between them felt electric, charged with unspoken words and the weight of their unresolved conflict.

“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. “You—We—Fuck!”

Allison started pacing, and he rolled his eyes.

Seriously, has this woman had theater training?

He heard her mumble something, but he couldn’t quite make out what she was trying to say.

“Are you done?” he snapped at her. He was getting sick of this back and forth. He was on a clock.

“Shut up, I’m trying to think!” she hissed back at him.

Well… somebody has claws.

“Allow me to jog your memory,sweet girl.” His voice was dark, and she froze in place.

She shook her head vehemently, looking anywhere but at him, as if she were refusing the nickname.

That’s a pity. I called her that multiple times that night and she loved each and every one of them.

She looked ready to start pacing again, but he grabbed her wrist. He hadn’t even realized he’d moved closer. She was like a magnet.

She stood in place, still unable to look at him. He leaned in, taking a subtle sniff of her intoxicating scent. His hand left her wrist, but he didn’t release her. He stroked up her arm, her shoulder and he stopped by her neck. Her gorgeous, long neck that was tempting him to either taste it or mark it.

It’s that goddamn dress. That tight dress with thin straps that show off her collarbones.

He wanted to eat her alive.

She shuddered lightly when his thumb stroked her pulse. She breathed in and then looked up. Jade green met chocolate brown. He could have kissed her right then. But he suddenly remembered why he couldn’t.

He stepped back, releasing his hold on her and straightening his suit, if only to give his hands something to do.

“You’re the guy. You’re him,” Allison said, appearing dumbfounded. A pretty flush decorated her cheeks and traveled all the way down until it disappeared beneath her dress.

“If by that you mean ‘am I the guy who fucked you through the night until the sun came up two months ago’ then, yes. I’m him.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm, his arms crossing in front of his chest nonchalantly.

If she really doesn’t remember me, I’ll be terribly offended. I put on my best show for her that night.

“Stop being so smug,” she spat at him, her voice laced with irritation. Her eyes flashed with a fierce determination, as if she were trying to pierce through his facade with a laser focus.

The corners of her mouth curled into a disdainful sneer, amplifying the intensity of her words. She stood her ground, fists clenched at her sides, ready to take on the world—or at least him.

The air crackled with tension, and Angelo could almost see the steam rising from her, her frustration palpable. It was clear she wasn’t going to back down, and he couldn’t help but admire her fiery spirit.

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