Page 30 of Trashy Foreplay

“Sweet!” Jumping to her feet, she snatches a red dress from the bed. “You should wear this. You’ll have every guy in the place drooling.”

“Why do people say that? It’s not like the sight of drool is sexy.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushes the dress into my hands. “Just be ready by eight.”

“Okay, boss. Will do.”

“Speaking of…” she says, glancing at her watch, “I’ve gotta put in a couple hours at work today. Accounting bullshit.”

I walk her out, and after she gets into her Bug and disappears down the alley, I go back inside and resume unpacking. My clothes and personal items don’t take long to put away, since most of what I own came with me in a large suitcase, and the apartment came furnished. But I did buy other necessities with what little money I had left over from my savings after paying a deposit and three months rent on this place.

And maybe Les is right. Maybe this huge step should be cause for celebration. This is all a little surreal—the new city, new job, new me. A version of myself I didn’t know I was capable of finding. A me that can make it on her own. A woman, despite what Mom says, is capable of being alone just fine. I’m liking this new woman.

But I’d like her a lot more if she’d quit lusting after a married man.

I still have a few hours to kill before Les comes back, so I step outside and lock up the apartment, excited about exploring the area. A gentle breeze drifts through the vestibule, and I don’t miss the Oklahoma humidity at all. In fact, with each day that passes, Seattle feels a little more like home instead of a place I’m visiting. I descend the stairs and head down the alleyway as the sun breaks through fluffy white clouds. Those rays warm my skin, and I’m flushed by the time I end up at Pike Place Market.

Taking in the weekend bustle with a secret smile, I step into the busy market, overwhelmed by the expanse of fresh food and handmade crafts as the lilting melodies of street musicians filter in from the sidewalk. I feel like a child on Christmas, wanting to sample everything. Touch and taste everything. Experience everything. I’m eyeing a display of berries when I sense a presence behind me.

“Hello, Jules.” His tone is deep, and it tingles down my spine. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. I turn to face him, preparing myself for the shock that electrifies me every time I lay eyes on Cash.

Once again, I remind myself that he’s my boss, and fucking married, but nothing stops the smile from spreading across my face.

Even worse, he’s wearing the same excited grin.

“Hi,” I say as a wave of heat washes over me. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I stop by most Saturdays.”

My eyes are masters of treachery, and they take him in from the casual wind-tossed state of his dark hair to the running shoes on his feet. Jesus. Cash in a suit is dangerous, but seeing him in a T-shirt and shorts is lethal.

I’m gawking and helpless to stop it, so I word-vomit the first thing that comes to mind. “This place doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to snatch them back.

Or kick myself. Possibly both.

An amused smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. I tear my attention away from such dangerous territory and lock my eyes on his, which isn’t much better because everything about this man has me aflutter.

“That came out wrong.”

“It’s okay,” he says with a laugh. “I know what you mean.”

Does he? I’m skeptical as he crosses his arms, stretching thin cotton over the muscles his suits fail to accentuate. For an insane second, I think about running my fingers over his biceps.

Get a fucking grip, Jules.

God, how I’d like to.

“Even pretentious guys like me are susceptible to the charms of a Seattle tradition.” He shoots me a look full of mischief.

“You aresonot pretentious.”

Swarms of people are passing by, and Cash steps toward me to clear out of their path. “Have you been here before?” he asks as he grabs a small container of blackberries. He’s so close that his breath rustles the top of my head, and the woodsy scent I’m ashamed to admit is as familiar as my own perfume floods my nose.

“Uh…” Blinking, I snap out of my stupor. “Today is the first day I’ve made it down here.”

“That’s criminal.” He moves toward the cashier, and I follow without thinking.

“Why’s that?”

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