Page 18 of Sack

“The goal is to flip that percentage around, raising overall profits.”

“Sounds good. I’d like to get started soon. Do you think you can have some ideas in place by Saturday? You can come to my place, say around ten?”

“I can have a list ready for your approval by then.”

“Perfect. We’ll go over your fees at that time as well.” He held out his hand. “To a successful partnership.”

She took it, heat penetrating hers as his much larger one engulfed it. They shook, but he didn’t let go. At least, not right away. Seconds ticked by before he finally released it, and the loss of its warmth caused a shiver to race down her spine.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

It definitely wasn’t the rough, calloused skin of his palm as it glided along the much softer skin of hers. Or his strong fingers with their tips softly grazing the inside of her wrist. It wasn’t the mesmerizing way he held her spellbound as his eyes probed hers so deeply it felt as if he were looking into her soul. Or the way his lips faintly tipped up, making her think that his smile hid seductive secrets he was too much of a gentleman to share.

No, it definitely wasn’t any of those things.

Chapter Five

Colt

Colt was up before the alarm. Hell, it was still dark out. Sacrilege for a day off. He’d be seeing Ivy soon. Once that thought popped into his head, he was wide awake. And there was no way in hell he’d be falling back to sleep.

He tossed the covers off and got out of bed. He had a Saturday morning routine. Workout, protein shake, shower. He’d have plenty of time to accomplish all that before Ivy arrived.

Getting on the treadmill, he set the timer for an hour to get his blood pumping. Free weights would come next and then he’d cool down with some stretches. He pulled out his phone, set it in the cradle, and in the mood for old-school, pulled up AC/DCBack in Blackand hit play.

He wondered what bands Ivy liked. Was her taste in music as eclectic as her personality?

Of course, she popped into his head again. When his mind was free to roam, she always seemed to be there. It didn’t matter what he told himself or how many times he tried to convince himself he wasn’t interested. Ivy was becoming his obsession.

His first mistake had been calling her. His second, hiring her. And his latest, inviting her to his home. How many more mistakes would he make when it came to her? She was a weakness. And with his team in top shape and the Super Bowl within their grasp, it was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He couldn’t let victory slip through his fingers. Not for anything. Not even a five-foot-two slip of a woman with pink hair and the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

Especially not that.

The few times he’d tried a relationship had been disastrous. Women wanted a lot of attention and would tend to get upset when they didn’t get it. Not that he blamed them. He knew they deserved better than what he was willing to give. But they also never walked blindly into an association with him. He’d always been upfront. Either they didn’t believe him or thought they could change him. Whichever the case, when they eventually walked away, it had been on them.

For some reason, he didn’t want that for Ivy. Better to not get involved. He didn’t want to see her get hurt.

Mind resolved, he cranked up the speed on the treadmill until his thighs started to burn and his breaths came in harsh pants. Sweat trickled over his brow that he wiped with a towel and down his spine which he ignored.

He just wished it were as easy to ignore thoughts of Ivy.

“Wow. This place is nothing like I’d envisioned.”

Colt had just finished giving Ivy a tour of his house, starting with the kitchen and ending in the living room. “Not a mansion?”

“Goodness, no.” Her eyes widened. “I meant that in a good way.”

He dipped his head. “Of course.”

She’d arrived right on time, messenger bag in tow, wearing a shirt proclaiming:Always be yourself, unless you can be Gimli, then always be Gimli.He didn’t know who the hell Gimli was, but the crossed battle axes gave him a clue he was a warrior of some sort.

She also now sported purple streaks mixed with the pink. He’d done a double-take when he’d first opened the door—it’d been a little jarring and had taken a bit to get used to—but it suited her. Honestly, she could shave her head bald and still be beautiful.

She looked around, spying his guitar leaning in the corner of the room. “Do you play?”

“I do.”

“Ooh, multi-talented.”

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