Page 7 of Anchored Love
“Hmm.” I fought the natural urge to roll my eyes and started digging the file out of my bag that I needed to go over when I got back to my desk.
The elevator stopped, and the door opened. Shuffling the contents of the file, I stepped out the door and collided with a hard body that smelled utterly intoxicating. My papers went flying into the air as the folder flew open, but I couldn’t keep from inhaling the spicy, woodsy scent of Dior. It was one of my favorites, so damn sexy.
Glancing up, I met the smoldering gaze of Mason Jones, the senior loan officer on my floor. His warm honey brown eyes met mine, his lips tipping into a grin so damn sugary my teeth ached. Running a hand through his dark chocolate shaded hair, he had that sexy bed hair going on. Long on the top, perfect for running one’s fingers through, but shaved short on the sides; it was perfect.
He was perfect. The kind of man who easily belonged on the cover of a magazine or on bedroom wall posters. Mason had that air about him. Everyone wanted to be around him. All the women who worked in our officed crushed on him. All the guys wanted to hangout with him after work and grab a drink.
Butterflies fluttered in my lower belly. We’d worked together for years, and he’d been a friend of my brothers, but I never had gotten used to how attractive Mason was in appearance. Not that I’d ever tell him that. “You know, Everly. This is a hallway, not a Dave Mathews Band concert.”
My mind registered what he said, but I didn’t understand. “What?”
“Crash into Me.” He grinned, and my brain rattled until it figured out the song.
“The song. Right.” I shook my head, a small smile tipping my lips.
“You like them, right?” Mason asked.
“Yeah. I do.” I went to move around him, noting all the papers scattered on the floor, and accidentally stepped on his toe with the heel of my pump. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t respond as I began to kneel for the papers. Apparently, he decided to do the same thing because our foreheads connected, slamming into one another.
My hand instantly went to my head as I tried to shake off the hit.
“Ow.” He rubbed a palm to his head as he soothed out the collision spot.
Embarrassment flooded me as I reached for his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Are you okay?” He dazzled me with his sexy as sin grin, taking me off guard. This close proximity ratcheted up his effectiveness to bring a woman to her knees. Literally. I blinked, starting at his lips. “How hard did I hit you?” His thick digits smoothed over my forehead, the touch gentle and mesmerizing.
My mouth went dry, and I licked my lips, suddenly needing water. “I’m fine.” With a shake of my head, I was able to pull myself out of staring at his lips, but it only led me to the rest of his torso.
Sleeves of his pressed white dress shirt pushed up on his forearms revealed the thick corded muscles and veins. Mercy, I swallowed hard at the sight of his arm porn. There was nothing sexier than a strong man.
Seriously, Everly. Snap out of it!
He began to collect my papers, and I followed suit, just grabbing at them in no particular order. Now was not the time for organization. I’d sort them out back at my desk.
Finishing, he offered me his hand to help me up, which I took. An electric spark coursed through my veins as his hand engrossed mine. His touch was warm and inviting, yet strong and unyielding as well.
I wobbled on my heels for a moment which was something I never, ever did. I’d been wearing heels since my first pair of plastic Barbie pink ones when I was three. Heels were second nature to me, and wobbling told me how much this man threw me off kilter. Not good.
“You should take Mason,” Samantha piped in, snapping me out of my ogling. Crap, I had forgotten she was still standing there. My best friend smirked with mischief burning behind her green orbs, and knowing her for years, it wasn’t a good thing. She loved to stir the pot.
“Stop it.” I cut my gaze on her in warning, telling her without words I was going to kill her, but she smiled bigger, cherry red lips stretching from ear to ear. Damn woman. Sometimes she infuriated me worse than my own sister.
“Take me where, Everly?” Mason pressed, and I sucked in a breath getting hit with another wave of that Dior cologne that made me want to jump his bones and climb all six feet of him like a tree. Why did sexy cologne do that to a woman? Getting out of the situation was a must before I embarrassed myself further. I had already knocked into him, stepped on his foot, and bumped foreheads with the guy. If I stood there any longer, who knew what catastrophe would occur next. My luck I’d grab his crotch, and pull on his balls, or worse if I didn’t get out of there. Normally I wasn’t flustered with people; he, for some reason, brought out all my goofiness.
“Nowhere… I um… I gotta get back to work. I’m late.” I clutched the files to my chest and darted past, glaring at Samantha who took off to her office, winking at me. Yeah, she’d be texting me very soon to give me schtick.
I rushed to my desk avoiding the stares of my coworkers who would be whispering about what a fool I’d made of myself in front of Mason later at the water cooler. There was no time to dwell on it. I had work to do—like finding a date for my brother’s wedding. Priorities, of course.
My brain, however, kept reminding me how good Mason Jones smelled. His handsome smile. The way my body warmed under the gaze of those honey brown eyes. My thighs clenched.
Entertaining such thoughts would lead to trouble. Therefore, I busied myself with organizing my papers, then I had an application to review. I kept my head down appearing to be busy, but I still got a big whiff of Dior when Mason passed by my desk later on that day. I refused to look up until I heard the door to his office close. Only then did the air finally come into my lungs.
Of course I’d always found him attractive, but he was never an option. Mason was my superior, and fraternization, while not against company policy, was highly frowned upon due to the conflict it could create in the work environment. Listen to me. Mason needed to get out of my head.
But still, I found myself unable to focus on my work. Every few minutes I caught myself glancing in the direction of his closed door and wondering how good he’d look in swim trunks. I knew Mason worked out. I’d seen him in action playing baseball for the company league.
Yeah, the man was F I N E—fine, but there was no way I could ask him to be my plus one, could I? No. I mentally smacked myself, then I glanced at his stupid door.
He was not an option.
I needed to get over my stupid crush and smudge a line through the idea of entertaining the thought of asking him. There had to be someone out there. Anyone but him. Not to mention my brother would probably want to kill me if I did. His friends were always a no-go zone, and the same went for mine with him. We had a pact and always stuck to it, but Drake was getting married, and he rarely hung out with Mason that I knew.
I was hopeless.
