Page 67 of Where There's Smoke

I moved aside, and she stroked her chin as she peered at the clothes hanging in my closet. Hangers squeaked and clattered as she shoved things aside.

“Here.” She turned around and handed me a pair of khaki slacks and a dark blue shirt. “Put these on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I took the hangers from her and toed off my shoes.

She turned around so her back was to me. “Just keep the suit handy. You’ll need it for this evening.”

“We’ll throw it in the garment bag.” I slipped off my black slacks and reached for the khakis. “I suppose Anthony would shit kittens if I showed up in shorts and a ripped T-shirt?”

“Well, he’d probably get a hard-on first, but yeah, probably.”

I rolled my eyes. “Cute, Ranya.”

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Uh-huh.” I zipped and buttoned my slacks. “All right, I’m decent.”

“That’ll be the day.” She turned around. “You know, it’s a crime that I’m picking out clothes for a gay man. You should be picking outmine.”

I started unbuttoning my shirt. “You’re the one who told me to step aside and let you choose.”

“Only because you have the fashion sense of a blind man.”

“Just trying to break the stereotype.” I took off my shirt and picked up the blue one she’d selected.

“Well, break a different one. I need someone to take me shopping. Ooh! Maybe I should ask Anthony.”

The very mention of his name made my stomach flutter. I laughed halfheartedly. “You go right ahead and ask him, my dear.”

She laughed but eyed me. “You all right, boss man?”

Rubbing my temples, I nodded. “Fine. Tired.”

She gave a quiet laugh. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

I shot her a look, one eyebrow up, and she snorted.

“Please,” she said. “It was only a matter of time before you two got it on. Dinner with everyone last night? Some downtime afterward? You looking like hell this morning?” She threw me a significant look.

I couldn’t help chuckling. “I don’t know why I ever try getting anything past you.”

“Neither do I.” She clicked her tongue and sighed melodramatically. “And yet you do. I guess you get an A for effort, at least.”

“Funny. That’s what Anthony said.”

“What? What are—Oh my God. Damn you, Jesse Cameron.”

I laughed. “You asked for that.”

“Eww, Jesse.” She grimaced and shuddered. “Just…eww.”

“Oh whatever.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Oh ye of the gory-slasher-film obsession, and you’re really all squicked out at the thought of two men engaging in consensual—and rather hot, if I may say so—anal sex?”

“Jesse!” Ranya shuddered and shook her head vigorously. “It’s not that. It’s that I don’t want to think about mybosshaving any kind of sex, never mindthatkind.”

I shrugged. “Well, then, think about Anthony having it.”

She furrowed her brow and seemed to mull it over for a second.

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