Page 48 of The Main Event

“Why would you even think that?” I snapped when he didn’t speak.

“I don’t know. It’s weird. It almost smells as if something is burning when the two of you are in close proximity to one another.”

“Burning? You don’t mean that Brimstone perfume that Tammy wears, do you? That stuff is toxic. I’ve told her to stop wearing it to the hotel because it makes the guests woozy.”

“That perfume is particularly terrible,” he agreed. “I wasn’t talking about the perfume, though.”

I waited because I knew he wasn’t finished.

“I was talking about the smell of lust emanating from your loins.” His grin was impish, even though he’d said something so ridiculous.

“I do not have burning loins.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“There’s no sin in having burning loins, no matter what Tammy might tell you.”

“For the eleventy-millionth time, I do not have burning loins.” I was close to losing it. Why would he even think something like that? I’d been nothing but professional with Jax.

I was good, and yet I said more. “And if I did have loins burning, they wouldn’t be burning for him.”

“Because he’s dating Tammy? That doesn’t speak to a smart man. I’m hoping he’s just momentarily confused or something.”

“I don’t care about him dating Tammy.” I didn’t. Not even a little. “He’s basically my boss.”

“You don’t believe anybody is your boss.”

“That’s true. He technically is, though … until he decides to sell the hotel. I have no interest in him.”

“But—”

“Zip it!” I held my fingers an inch apart directly in front of his face. “No interest. None.”

“Fine.” Levi heaved out a sigh. “I’m not a monster for wanting my girl to get some. Remember that.” He held out his arm. “Come on, Morticia.”

I didn’t immediately take his arm. “I’m not Morticia.”

“Lily Munster?”

“No.”

“Man, what is it with creators only doing one type for hot goth chicks?” Levi complained. “Who else is there?”

“I’m Elvira.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“She was a big horror figure in the 80s. Trust me. She was cool.”

“Do you mean big as in big?” He gestured toward my cleavage once more.

“She was more than her boobs. She was an icon.” I was prim now.

“Well, if she filled out a dress like that without shoulder pads, more power to her.”

“You’re showing just as much cleavage as I am,” I pointed out.

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