Page 59 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

His light brown eyes studied mine, and he furrowed hisbrows. “Is this okay?”

“Is what okay?” I asked, wondering if he was referring to his attempt to pin me to the wall with his eyes.

“Showing you an easier, faster, and prettier way to do this.” He gestured at the basket. “What you did was fine, but we have almost a hundred of these to do. Efficiency is going to be important.”

I nodded numbly, having no idea how to address anything he’d just said.

Danger Zone spread the clear plastic out again and smoothed it against the table. “You want to center the basket, like you did, but turn it so the cellophane isn’t wrinkled on the front.”

I watched as he took me through positioning the basket, pulling the covering up, and maneuvering it in place. My eyes were drawn to his hands and my ears to his voice. He brushed me multiple times with his arms, and I didn’t move.

“You can use tape here and here on the sides if needed, but if you fold it in right, you won’t have to.” Danger Zone held a perfect poof at the top, waiting for me to put the bow back on.

I leaned over and refastened the bow, and when he pushed the finished product away, I had to admit, it looked good and would be easier to do dozens of times.

“You try it.” He put a new basket on the pile of cellophane.

His movements had been sure, and I tried to emulate him. It took me three tries to get the darn thing centered. “You made this look easy,” I complained.

“Years of practice.” He chuckled and then moved behind me. “It’s probably easier if you’re a little taller.” Danger Zone reached around me. His arms slid along mine, and his fingers settled on the outside of my hands. “Let me show you.”

Every nerve in my body was on fire. My heart was in my throat and my knees weak. Did Danger Zone understand what he was doing to me right now? I could feel those lean muscles.

Like a puppet master, he guided my limbs to re-create what he’d shown me a few minutes earlier. I had no desire for him to stop and every desire to turn around and face him, but something told me he wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Hold it here,” he said as we folded the side in.

I did as he instructed, and he intertwined his fingers with mine.

We both froze, except for breathing hard. His chest rose and fell against my back, and I could feel his heartbeat going almost as fast as mine.

For a good minute, I didn’t blink. Neither of us spoke.

Was he stuck? Worried? Not sure what to do?

Did I need to make the next move?

I gathered my wits and said, “Why did you ask me about my friends?”

His answer came as a whisper in my ear. “Because I want to know what makes you happy.” His fingers squeezed mine. “I know you love coffee in the morning. You love a good joke. You seem to enjoy your work and appreciate finishing a difficult project.”

I didn’t dare breathe. Danger Zone had been more and more open with me, and while this conversation sounded somewhat rehearsed, it also felt raw and sincere.

He went on. “But that’s just at work. You’re different with your friends.”

“You really watch our channel?” I asked.

Danger Zone’s hands started to move again, going to the other side of the basket. I let him lead me. He chuckled, a sensation that rumbled through me. “More times than I care to admit.”

“Favorite episode?” I demanded.

“The one with the rat skeletons.”

I laughed. “That is a good one.”

At this point, we had the top of the plastic in a bundle over the basket. Danger Zone reached to get a bow while I held on. “What else makes you happy?” he murmured into my hair.

It was almost impossible to focus with him literally breathing down my neck, but his voice held a hint of desperation. I hated hearing that from him, so I cleared my throat as he started securing the bow. “New experiences make me happy. Not burning food when I cook makes me happy. Action movies.” I paused as he finished with the bow but didn’t move away. “Being with people I care about makes me happy.”

---