Page 49 of Operation Sunshine
Inside he felt cold. This had gone way beyond a distraction. It wasn’t a tactic, a joke, not even a fling. The only thing that mattered was the fleeting look on Ben’s face that morning, before the walls came slamming back down.
For the first time in years, Franco felt the sting of fear.
What if I want this more than he does? And if this was only supposed to be a game, then why does it feel like I’ve just handed Ben the power to break me?
Ben sat at his desk with his laptop open, although the spreadsheet had long since blurred into meaningless rows and numbers.
He’d always been proud of his ability to compartmentalise. Numbers in one column, outcomes in another. Personal life? Off the ledger entirely. But now, sitting in his office with the half-written staff rota glowing on his laptop screen, he found his thoughts derailed by… cheekbones. Laughter that slid under his skin. The remembered weight of Franco Rossi’s thigh hooked over his hip.
The memory played on a loop: Franco sprawled across his sheets, his hair tumbling around his face, his lips swollen from kissing, his voice husky as he whispered things that had no business echoing in Ben’s mind at ten in the morning on a workday.
Ben snapped his laptop shut, then rubbed at his face. “For God’s sake.”
This wasn’t distraction—this was erosion. His carefully ordered systems were cracking under the memory of Franco’s hands, the heat of his mouth, the reckless abandon that had coaxed Ben into lowering every guard he’d ever built.
And the worst part? He wanted more.
Chapter Fourteen
Raj glanced up from his saucepan, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “In case I forget to mention it, good work yesterday, Franco.”
Franco blinked. “Thanks… I think. Not sure I did that much, though.”
Willow smirked. “Huh. You went above and beyond for team morale, mate. Sleeping with the boss? Nowthat’swhat I call a bold strategy.”
Raj shook his head, chuckling as he clanged the pan on the hob. “You didn’t have to, you know. We were already on your side.”
Franco set the tray of cutlery down and shot them both a wary glance. “How exactly do you know what happened?”
Willow winked. “Darling, you showed up in yesterday’s shirt with hair that looked as if someone had their hands in it. Then there’s that smile you’ve been wearing all morning.”
“Hey, I smile all the time,” he protested.
She chuckled. “Yeah, but we’re talking ahugecat-that-got-the-cream kinda smile. Not your usual brand.”
Lexie coughed. “Willow, that’s not really appropriate, y’know.”Then she grinned. “However, the next time we seeyouwith that same kinda grin, we’ll know exactly what to say to you.”
A chorus of laughter rippled through the kitchen. Franco managed a thin, brittle chuckle before muttering in Italian and shaking his head, as if he could brush it off the way he brushed off everything.
But he couldn’t.
This wasn’t supposed to be a game anymore, not when every second that Ben was in Franco’s bed still hummed under his skin, when the weight of that man’s hand at the small of his back had felt like the safest thing in the world.
He knew what the others thought: this was all part of Operation Sunshine, another prank to throw Mr. Corporate off his scent, off balance. Maybe even a one-off, chaotic Franco being chaotic.
But when he thought about Ben’s mouth on his skin, the way Ben had looked at him like he was something worth holding on to? Franco knew.
It wasn’t a joke.
Not anymore.
And if this was howhefelt, what was going on in Ben’s mind?
Maybe it was time to find out.
The lunchtime rush was over, and Ben was taking advantage of the lull to sit in the restaurant, glancing occasionally at the world going by the window. From the kitchen came the usual laughter and banter he’d come to expect from his workforce. He didn’t mind: it all made for an accurate barometer.
A whiff of sugar reached his nostrils, and he glanced up.
