Page 63 of Cockpit
Nervous energy has me stepping back and then yelping when I bump into a leaf of the fern behind me. The intrigued expression on his face softens as he smiles at my clumsiness.
“Because I don’t have a family or kids who were waiting for me to take them, like most of the staff did. I don’t have anyone looking forward to me being there.” I shrug as something flashes through the blue of his eyes that I can’t quite read. “So, I told them I’d stay and fix things to meet the deadline.”
“I was looking forward to you being there.” The deep tenor of his voice
is a seduction all in its own right.
“Oh.” My breath hitches at his comment, and I hate that for a girl who never gets tongue-tied over a man, I’m doing a damn fine job of pretending I am. Next thing I know, I’m going to forget that I know how to walk in heels and accidentally trip and fall into his arms. That’s how ridiculously dorky I feel right now.
He takes a step toward me.
“What else did Rissa say?” I ask for the sole reason of needing something to say.
“She thanked me for agreeing to do the contest.” He angles his head and stares at me for a beat, and I’m suddenly so very aware how dark the main office space is . . . and how very alone we are. “Why did you say the magazine needs to be saved?”
His question takes me off guard and also gives me a small reprieve from the sexual tension that eats up the oxygen in the room.
“It has failing viewership. I was brought on staff to elevate the numbers and help save it.”
“The contest.”
“The contest.”
“And where do I fit in all of this?”
He takes another step closer, and everything about him seems to consume the small space. The width of his shoulders. The outdoorsy scent of his cologne. The soft sound he makes when his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. The dark shadow of stubble starting to show on his jaw.
“You’re going to be the winner.” The minute I say the words, I feel like such an ass.
His smile widens in a slow, steady slide as he nods. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” He chuckles.
“That’s not what I meant. I meant that—”
“It doesn’t matter. Rissa explained it all to me outside.”
“Oh.” Panic strikes. Did she really tell him our plan to play up his background to sell more magazines?
“Mm-hmm.” My breath hitches as he reaches out and places his hands on the sides of my neck, his thumb brushing ever so slightly over my lips. “If I stay in the contest, do your dog and pony show, you don’t lose your job.”
“That’s right.” I nod while breathing a silent sigh of relief. That’s all Rissa explained to him and not the exploitation of his backstory. “What do you want in return?”
His grin is lightning quick as I realize what I just implied, and he laughs before stepping closer, so every time I inhale, my chest brushes ever so softly against his. The sensation is subtle but damaging as hell to the dryness of my panties.
“No more games, Sidney.” I nod in blind agreement when I have absolutely no clue what he means by that. “No more planted articles. No more manipulated photos. And you keep Luke out of everything.”
“Okay.”
He leans forward, and I close my eyes in anticipation of his kiss, but the heat of his breath on my ear is just as arousing when he speaks. “After you finish, I’d like for you to come on out to the party.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” This isn’t even a good idea because anyone could walk in here right now and see us. The thought is fleeting because when Grayson leans back, his lips are a whisper from mine, and his thumb is rubbing back and forth over the dent in my collarbone.
“Why not?” His breath hits my lips and taunts me to lean forward and taste his.
“Because I’ve already been warned about the impropriety of us being seen together.”
“So?”
“If you win, there could be a case that you did because of bias.”
