Page 106 of Work with Me

I scanned the party. It was my first time at Synergy’s headquarters. The few times I’d come to visit Jackson, he’d met me at the airport and whisked me straight back to his place. But he’d forgotten about Synergy’s quarterly celebration when I’d arranged this trip. Tired as I was, I was curious to observe him at headquarters.

People sat at the tables scattered across the courtyard, shaded by pergolas. Others stood in clumps, swaying to the music that played over the speakers. Inside, I’d passed a long table full of snacks; out here, another smaller table served as the bar. A long queue of employees stretched across the courtyard, empty cups at the ready. Behind the bar was the reason for the line. Instead of professional bartenders, Jackson and Marlee filled cups with beer. Their foreheads glistened with sweat despite San Francisco’s April chill. What were the company founder and his executive assistant doing there when they should’ve been mingling with the employees?

I skirted the line and approached the table. Marlee saw me first. She dropped the keg’s spigot. “Alicia!” She held out her arms for a hug. We’d met the last time I’d visited Jackson, taking part of our precious weekend for a girls-only shopping trip. I’d liked her a lot. Plus, she was important to Jackson. I could see us becoming friends, especially considering my news.

I stepped into her arms and kissed her cheek. A trickle of sweat dripped from her temple to her chin. “What’s going on?”

Her eyebrows slammed down. “Bartenders didn’t show. The caterer is sending replacements, but we have thirsty people here.” She waved at the line.

“Want me to help?” I’d never poured beer from a keg—the library had been more my scene in college—but it didn’t look too difficult.

“Absolutely not.” She pumped the handle, then picked up the spigot and reached for the next cup. She nudged Jackson with her elbow. “Take a break, Jackson. Alicia’s here.”

He looked up, and the cup he was filling overflowed, splashing his jeans. “Alicia!” He shoved the cup at the waiting person, sloshing her hand, and with a quick apology, dropped his spigot and folded me into his arms.

He smelled like beer and sweat, but under that was my Jackson’s leather and soap scent. I breathed him in and then lifted my face for his kiss.

His beard was freshly trimmed, and it scratched at my cheeks, contrasting with the soft press of his lips and tongue. He tasted like hops and orange peel from the beer. I tunneled my fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. His hands pressed into my lower back, bringing me right up against the hard planes of his stomach. Something else hard nudged against my lower belly. One of his hands slid down my silky skirt.

He kissed over to my ear. “I like this skirt. Lots of room to maneuver.”

During our shopping trip, Marlee had convinced me to buy the flouncy, short skirt, a departure from my usual slim ones. Instead of my usual black or gray, it had a cheery floral pattern much better suited to Austin, where it was already spring, than to wintry San Francisco. Despite the penetrating cold, being near Jackson warmed me from the inside out.

However.

“Stop maneuvering. Everyone’s watching you feel me up.”

“They understand. I haven’t seen my girlfriend in two weeks.” His hand crept lower, following the curve of my ass.

“I might be wearing something special underneath, and I’d rather not flash your employees, if you don’t mind.” I smiled when he froze, his pulse beating wild against my cheek. “Maybe we can find somewhere more private for you to maneuver?”

He sucked in a breath, smoothed my skirt down, and loosened his hold on me enough to look back at the line.

“Tyler,” he barked.

Tyler stood four or five places from the front of the line, talking with another guy. He looked up, and when he saw me, the usual flash of guilt crossed his face. We’d talked several times, both before and after he’d moved to San Francisco, and I’d told him every time that I’d forgiven him. But it hadn’t stuck.

He bounded around the table to stand beside Jackson. “Hey, Alicia. Good flight?”

“Not too bad.”

“Listen, I’m—”

“Tyler,” Jackson said, dangerously mild, “do you or do you not owe me?”

“I owe you forever. Alicia, too.” He looked like a puppy who’d gotten into the garbage, knowing it was wrong but also that he’d be forgiven. I thought for a second he might lick Jackson’s face.

“Then you’re our new bartender. Help Marlee.”

“On it—”

I didn’t hear the rest of what he said because Jackson whisked me away to the other side of the courtyard and tugged me behind a tree in a planter bigger than Noah. He leaned against the side of the building and hiked me up against him. The tree shaded us, throwing the corner into semidarkness.

“Now, where were we? As I recall, I was about to discover something special.” His big hand trailed over my ass and teased the hem of my skirt.

I slapped my hand over his, stilling it. “First, I have some news. Want to hear it?”

“Good news?” He searched my face. “You booked your next gig?”

---