Page 28 of Trashy Foreplay

I turn to my boss, folder in hand. “I was on my way to give this to you.”

“Thank you.” His voice is deep and soft all at once, and I swallow hard as he takes the file from me.

“I figured you’d want to approve it before I fax it over.”

“I trust your judgment,” he says, handing me the file without taking a single peek. “You’ve done great this week, Jules.”

The air is thick with tension, and I sense there is so much more he wants to say. But neither of us are able to go there. Not now. Not ever.

“I’ll just send it off then,” I say before heading down the hall. Their voices fade, but I make out Kaden mentioning a birthday dinner coming up at their parents place. As I insert the documents into the fax machine, tapping my nails on the counter as I wait for the papers to go through, I wonder when his birthday is, and how old Cash will be. I’d put him in his late twenties.

By the time I reach the reception area again, Cash and his brother are nowhere in sight. I’m not sure why I’m disappointed. The less of him I see, the better. Especially if he’s going to touch me every time we come into contact—which is going to be a lot. There’s no getting around that. Interacting with the man is part of the job.

But damn, the heat of his touch is still burning the small of my back. I escape into the safety of my office and stand against the door for a few moments, one hand on my chest as my heart flutters out of control.

It’s then I admit I’ve been fooling myself all week. There’s no way this will work.

He gets under my skin like no other man. Not Chris. Not Perry. There’s something about Cash that annihilates my will to do the right thing. When I look into his eyes, the world fades away. Professionalism and propriety are fruitless.

And that wedding band on his finger doesn’t matter to the furious pace of my heartbeat. But it matters to the side of me that isn’t led around by my treacherous heart. Taking a deep breath, I force my feet to move to my desk. After I file away the folder and grab my purse, I head for the door.

This will get easier with time. It’s only been a few days. Eventually, the butterflies will stop. They have to, because wanting a man I can’t have absolutely sucks, and I swore to myself I wouldn’t do this again.

I open the door and halt in my tracks. Cash is exiting his office, alone. The shadows of emerging twilight have seeped into the building, and no one else is around to offer a buffer between us. We both freeze for a few seconds, as if cast under a spell.

Cash breaks it by tilting his head toward the elevator. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

Giving a slight nod, I follow him. “I would have never guessed you were a twin,” I say as we wait.

“Guilty as charged.” His smile puts me at ease, and I finally relax in his presence.

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe we can set aside this insane attraction and find solid ground.

Ground that doesn’t involve us rolling around on it naked.

The ding of the lift evaporates that dangerous fantasy. “You guys must be really close.” There’s a bit of envy in my tone. I’ve tried for years to relate to Brit, but Mom pretty much brought a hammer down on any chance of that happening. They’re the tight duo, and I’ve never been allowed inside their world of shopping, hair, and all things fashion. Mom gave up trying to groom me for “greater things” a long time ago. And in her language, greater things meant a rich husband and a size two figure.

Cash gestures for me to go first. “We were close growing up, but the last few years we’ve followed separate paths. That’s life, I guess.”

“Did you ever switch places when you were younger?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. “We were tempted a couple of times, but Kaden and I worked too hard at differentiating ourselves to blow it by confusing people.”

“That makes sense. The resemblance is astonishing.”

As the elevator starts to descend, Cash gives me a heated look. “Did you really think he was me?”

I nibble on my lip, thinking back to that initial, strange encounter with Kaden. “I thought you changed clothes at first, but something was…different.”

“Different how?” He’s leaning against the other side of the elevator, holding onto the grab-handle behind him with both hands. I watch as his fingers flex around the metal bar, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s holding on so tightly because he wants to close the distance between us. God knows I do.

I force my gaze to his. “We promised we wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what, Jules?”

God, please stop saying my name like that.

I’m convinced he can make a woman come with words alone.

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