Page 3 of Just My Luck

And Abel almost saw you naked.

A fresh wave of embarrassment rolled over me. The prank was supposed to be cheeky and funny, but instead I had flashed my boss wearing nothing but a minuscule thong and mesh bra that broadcasted the temperature of the room at any given moment.

I coughed out a laugh and held my hand over my mouth to keep Abel from hearing me. I needed this job, and I had been busting my ass for months to save up in order to get our lives back on track. The last thing I needed was to get fired for being a clumsy idiot.

Abel’s face had been shocked and embarrassed. Those dark eyes—with flecks of gold, by the way—had pinned to my chest and run all the way down my exposed front for a full beat before flicking back to my face.

Oh, yeah. He’d definitely seeneverything.

How the hell was I supposed to face him now? I wanted to crawl into a hole and die a slow, mortifying death.

A hard knock on the door jolted me. “Sloane. We need to talk.”

Oh, shit.

TWO

ABEL

When the front-entrancedoor to the brewery had swung open, my jaw nearly fell to the floor. You’d think there was a wind machine and background vocals given the way Sloane flounced through the doorway. Her wavy brown hair was done up in hot-pink curlers, and instead of casual work attire, she was still in a bathrobe and fuzzy white slippers.

What in the actual fuck?

Without a second glance, she floated past me, her scent of baked goods and something sweet hanging in the air.

“Morning, boss!” Humor and happiness laced through her feminine greeting. She refused to call me anything butbossno matter how many times I’d told her to call me Abel.

My gaze snagged on the round fullness of her ass as she made her way behind the bar for a glass of water. She swallowed the drink with a flourish before putting the glass in the sink.

“Sloane,” I ground out.

The harsh tone of my voice made her jump and she hurried to leave. And then it happened—a single snag on a rough corner of the bar and her robe fell open.

My blood hummed. Sloane had always been dangerous curves and flirty banter. She was sunshine and laughter. Noteven my own frosty exterior seemed to cool her warmth. I had no right, but too often I caught myself leaning into her presence like a flower getting its first taste of morning sunlight.

And now she was exposed, right in front of me.

I was her boss, and instead of looking away, I stared at her tits and followed the smooth line of her stomach to the swatch of fabric covering her pussy.

I felt sick.

And really fucking turned on.

Disgusted at myself, I slapped the rag onto the bar and stomped down the hallway after her. I stopped at the bathroom door, listening to her quiet movements through the wall.

I raised my fist and let it fall heavy on the wooden door. “Sloane. We need to talk.”

After a moment it cracked open. One green and gold hazel eye looked up at me as Sloane peeked out of the slit in the door.

“Did you need something?” Her voice was feathery and light.

I bit back a groan. “Sloane, I...” How the hell do I navigate this?

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry if I—” Fuck.

I tried a stern approach. “Casual Friday is—” The words escaped me.

Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck what she wore to work, but there’d be no way in hell I could concentrate without thinking about the nothingness underneath that bathrobe. “Damn it.”

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