Page 78 of Business Casual
My hands slip from his collar to his chest. “You want to keep doing it?”
“I do if you do,” he murmurs.
“I do,” I answer quietly. “But only if you’re okay with that.”
“Something casual?” he asks. I nod my head. His hand meanders down my back with large, sweeping strokes. “Yeah, I’m okay keeping it casual. I’m only here through the end of the month anyway. That probably makes the most sense for both of us.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“No expectations,” he says easily, a bright smile sweeping across his mouth. It never quite reaches his eyes, does it? “It’s how I do my best work.”
I frown at him. Keeping it casual has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. That part of me feels broken, rusty with disuse. My bubble-wrapped heart.
“Maybe we can call itbusinesscasual,” I say slowly.
His hands tighten on my hips. “What does that mean?” He laughs.
“Business casual,” I say again, the idea growing on me. Yes, that’s exactly what I want. Something casual but with parameters in place so neither of us can hurt the other.
I tuck my finger in the collar of his sweater and tug him closer. “It means this only lasts as long as we want it to. It also means…” I tip my chin up and nip lightly at his bottom lip. “It also means if I’m fucking you, no one else is.”
I’m still figuring out what I do and I don’t want, but I know for a fact I don’t want to share Charlie with anyone else.
His eyes flash dark and his breath catches, an inhale that lasts an extra beat. I watch with interest as his tongue wets his bottom lip. I have no right to be possessive over him, but I am, and I think he likes it.
I think he likes it a lot.
“Are you using corporate speak to turn me on, Nova?”
“That was not my intention.”
“The results seem to be in your favor.” His fingers flex where they rest against the back of my neck. “Business casual,” he repeats, thoughtful.
I nod, wrapping my arms around his waist beneath his coat. “That’s what I can offer right now. What do you say?”
He tips my chin up with his knuckles and catches me in another kiss. I sway into him.
“I say we should go back to your place.”
?We’re probably causinga scene.
Charlie and I aren’t exactly being discreet as we speed walk down the street toward my house. He keeps his palm against the small of my back and I keep my hands buried in the pockets of my jacket, but we keep sneaking looks at each other.
“Of course I’ll check out your thermostat,” he yells when we stop at a crosswalk, the elementary school bus unloading for the afternoon on the other side of the street. “I’d be happy to.”
I stare at him. “What thermostat?”
“The one that’s broken,” he yells again.
“What is happening right now?”
“I’m creating a plausible reason for why I’m going to your house in the middle of the afternoon,” he says out of the side of his mouth.
“Do you really think anyone would care?”
“I can think of several people that might care.”
He’s right. This town cares entirely too much about what everyone is up to in their free time. This would be headline news for the phone tree. My hands fiddle with the zipper of my jacket. I yank it up and then down. Up again.
