Page 17 of Operation Sunshine
Franco greeted the olive vendor like an old friend, and Ben stayed back, trying to build a protective mental fortress.
Yeah, that was an exercise in futility.
Franco glanced back, his hair falling into his eyes, and gestured for Ben to try an olive.
When Ben hesitated, Franco picked one up, but instead of handing it over, he pressed it gently to Ben’s mouth.
Ben’s lips parted on instinct. Franco’s fingers brushed the corner of his mouth as he fed him the olive.
The touch burned. Ben nearly choked on the brine.
Franco’s eyes held his, the air shimmering between them, the seconds stretching into an eternity. Then he stepped back, his lips curling into a slow, wicked grin.
“Salty enough for you?” he teased.
Ben turned away so abruptly he nearly crashed into a basket of lemons at the next stand.
Franco’s fingers still tingled from the contact. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed that far, but seeing Ben’s pupils blown wide, the pink flush at his throat, hearing that ragged breath ….
It was worth the risk.
He leaned in again, his voice warm and teasing. “Careful, manager man. If you faint, I’ll have to carry you out of here like a bride.”
Ben whirled on him, glaring so fiercely Franco almost stepped back.
Almost.
“Touch me again like that andyou’llbe the one carried out,” Ben snapped. His voice cracked on the last word, however.
Franco laughed and patted Ben’s bicep lightly, a quick tap that felt more like a caress.
I’m really pushing my luck here.
He couldn’t help himself.
Ben couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep feeling Franco’s hands on him, the whisper of breath so close, that bright laughter drilling into the parts of him he tried to keep bolted shut.
Focus, he reminded himself with every passing minute.You’re here to work. You arenothere to flirt. You are definitelynothere to watch Franco’s lips or think about how his hands might feel on your—
“Ben. Cheese time,” Franco declared, interrupting his mental spiral. He launched into an animated conversation in Italian with the cheesemonger, leaving Ben awkwardly hovering.
Franco looked over his shoulder suddenly, his gaze meeting Ben’s, and gave a small, reassuring nod. A silentstay with me.
Ben hated that it worked.
Franco gestured to the cheesemonger. “This is Maria.”
Ben tried to remain invisible behind him, but Maria’s sharp eyes pinned him anyway.
“And who’s this? He looks as if he got dragged here against his will.”
Franco grinned. “This is Ben, our resident corporate vampire. He thinks all cheese should be neatly categorised by profit margin.”
Ben glared. “I didnotsay that.”
Maria cackled, slapping Franco’s shoulder. “He’s a grumpy one. You sure you don’t want a refund?”
Ben’s lips twitched despite himself.
