Page 6 of Crave Me

“Yeah, you were. You were totally checking me out.”

I pause with my fingers over the controls. I’m an educated man, the CEO of a robotics and technological empire. There are times when I’m challenging a roomful of brilliant engineers and questioning their designs, and moments where I’m discussing complex technological breakthroughs with potential buyers. I know how to present myself in a professional and articulate manner, always.

Except perhaps now. “I was admiring your muscle tone.”

“Is that so?” she asks.

“Yes.” Among other things.

I steel myself for a verbal tongue-lashing given my asinine response. Wren may arm herself with a tough exterior, but she’s very much a lady and deserves to be treated as such.

Yet anger isn’t what comes.

“Thanks,” she says. “I love to eat so I work out a lot.”

Her response appears genuine, but I imagine she already suspects I’m attracted her. Given my deportment, how could she not?

My foot lowers on the accelerator when we reach another hill. The Explorer easily climbs with a simple tap. I’m impressed with how easy it is to maneuver a vehicle this large, but not to the point that I forget this woman beside me, or my desire to know her.

“What do you do to stay in shape, aerobics?” I ask.

She purses her lips, appearing to think about it. “Sure, if it were the 80’s and I was into headbands.” She laughs when I do. “If you want to know the truth, I kick box, dabble in jujitsu, and teach women’s self-defense.”

“Because of your job?” My voice softens when she hesitates. “I imagine climbing into a car with a stranger is not without risks, despite the safety checks implemented by your employer.”

Her voice softens. “No. A girl can’t be too careful. A lot of shit?sorry. There are a lot of bad things that can happen to a woman.”

Wren’s voice is unique, not simply because of her thick Philadelphia accent, but because of the confidence behind it . . . a confidence that was very much present until now.

“My apologies,” I offer, glancing her way. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not,” she says, glancing away. “Oh, turn right. This leads up one of the steepest hills in the area. I want you to get a feel for how this ride handles through the slush and snow.” She turns back, tossing me an impish grin. “Can’t keep you away from the missus too long.”

I smirk at her good-natured needling. “Ashleigh and I have a strictly professional relationship, I assure you.”

“Oh, yeah?” she muses. “How old is Ashleigh?’

I give it some thought. “I believe she’s younger than me by a few years, twenty-eight or so.”

“Is she in a relationship?”

My mind plays with the idea. She’s young and pretty so it’s likely she could be. Yet like me, Ashleigh is always at the office and has made no mention of a significant other. At least not that I recall. “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” she says, fidgeting with the lapels of her black leather coat. “Then unless Ashleigh plays for the other team, I’m not so sure she wants a ‘strictly professional relationship’ as you put it.”

“What?” she asks, her face lighting up at the sight of my frown. “There’re a few things I know, and know well. Cars and women. If Ashleigh hasn’t put the moves on you, it’s because she’s waiting for the right moment to pounce.”

“That’s absurd,” I say, laughing.

“Is it?”

I give some thought to what she says. Ashleigh is hardworking and intelligent . . . as well as mothering and overbearing. She’s attractive, but there’s certainly no attraction there. My gaze flickers to Wren. Not like there is here. “It’s not what you think,” I begin.

“Sure it is.”

I chuckle. “Why are you so certain she’ll pounce, as you put it?”

“Because you’re good-looking, in shape, and apparently have a decent job.” She taps her fingers against her knee. “She may not have hit on you, yet, but trust me, she will.”

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