Page 121 of Smooth Sailing

“You getting off on knowing what you do to my dick isn’t helping matters, babe,” he noted.

“Sorry,” I lied.

He sifted his long fingers into the side of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, adding a nuance to the touch he’d given me last night, which I liked, making it better, which I loved.

“I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m taking advantage,” he said softly.

I blinked.

I stared.

I shoved my face in his neck and did it hard.

Who was this man and what did I do in this life to deserve being cornered in an elevator by him?

“It’s Big Petey’s idea,” he went on. “Not yours. And you got a heart the size of Alaska, and it’s so golden, it’s blinding. You want me to get good sleep. And you constantly put everyone else in front of yourself and?—”

I lifted my head at the same time I rested my fingers on his bearded lips.

“I wanted to offer it to you last night,” I told him. “I was ecstatic when Big Petey made that suggestion. And yes, that’s about you, and me wanting you to get good rest. But it’s also about me, because I like you, I’m attracted to you, I’m loving getting to know you, and I foresee, eventually, you being here anyway.”

This time, he pulled a bunch of my hair over my shoulder and started twirling it.

Reluctantly, I shifted my fingers from his lips.

“And it’ll be nice, not having to be alone on the last night we have Maddy with us,” I whispered.

With my hair still in his fingers, he stroked my jaw. “Then I’m in here with you in your bed tonight.”

How did I know that was what he’d say?

Seemed I wasn’t the only one with the bent of putting others before myself.

“Can you take tomorrow off too?” he asked. “Give yourself some time to deal with losing her.”

My boss was a hands-off person in the sense that she pretty much didn’t notice anything going on except what she was in the middle of doing.

Annie would notice if I didn’t get work done.

She wouldn’t notice if I didn’t show up for three days, and when I returned, she’d say something like, “I thought something seemed off at the workshop.”

It was good she wasn’t a professor, or she’d be the example that proved the stereotype.

“My boss is pretty cool. I’ll call her, because that’s a good idea.”

“How ’bout doin’ that now, getting it out of the way, and we’ll go out and spend some time with Maddy so you got that before she has to go away.”

This was a good plan, so I moved carefully to reach for my phone without losing much contact with him.

I then hit go on her number.

She answered probably half a second before it went to voicemail.

“Yes?”

“Hi, Annie. It’s Di again.”

“Hello, dear.”

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