Page 54 of Tequila, Tequila

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His fingers tightened their grip on me. “No. If I decide, we’re both bunking off work today, because I’d like to toss you onto my bed and see if you slap me then.”

I blushed. “Depends how hard you throw me.”

Oy, look at me flirting! Ay-yai-yai!

He pressed his mouth against my forehead and silently laughed.

The decision was made for us when the phone rang from my desk. I was almost glad—I wasn’t sure I was ready to decide what happened next, mostly because I had no fucking idea.

I’d expected to get fired. Instead, I’d gotten kissed.

I was taking that and running with it.

I was a little breathless when I sat down, and it wasn’t because I’d run over here in heels. I had to take a deep breath and hope that steadied both my breathing and my rapid heartbeat as I answered the phone with my usual message.

I handled their request with ease, and when I put the phone back down, I felt a pair of eyes on me.

Cameron.

He was standing in the doorway, adjusting his pants—something that made me fight a smile—and staring at me. “I need you to do something for me.”

Uh-oh.

My mouth went dry. “What?”

“Those shoes. As hot as they are, I keep having visions of you breaking your damn ankle.” He glanced at them and back up at me. “Change your fucking shoes.”

He darted back into his office, leaving the door open.

And I laughed.

Then took off the shoes.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – MALLORY

“Are you seriously bringing me coffee with bare feet?”

I wriggled my toes and put the cup down. “You told me to change my shoes, and I don’t have any others with me. It’s this, or I risk spilling coffee all over your desk again.”

Cameron moved the mug and coaster a couple of inches away from me. “We both know you don’t need to be wearing heels to do that.”

“I know, but it reduces the risk even further. That’s a plus.”

“You know, there’s a reason people say not to mix work and pleasure. Getting coffee from someone with bare feet might be it.”

I laughed and moved so he couldn’t see my toes. “I’m not sure what that has to do with work, but if I’m ever in your kitchen, I can guarantee I’ll be barefoot.”

His lips quirked. “And pregnant?”

“Unless it’s an immaculate conception, not likely.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is this one kiss and you’re laying out a future?”

“Not with you standing there with bare feet, I’m not.” He snorted. “I hate feet.”

“All right.” I held up my hands with a shrug. “I’ll go put the heels back on. I hope you’re willing to carry me to the ER when I inevitably trip over a paperclip and break my leg.”

“Just walk really, really slow.” He paused. “How did you make it up the stairs?”

“Divine intervention.”

“You took them off and put them back on, didn’t you?”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

His laugh was low and sent a little shiver down my spine. “Why are you even wearing heels? You wear flats every day.”

“You notice that?”

“Of course I do. I look at your shoes so I don’t get caught staring at your ass.”

My eyebrows shot right up. “You’ve been staring at my ass?”

“I’m not even going to justify that with an answer.” He shook his head. “Just like you weren’t talking to my belly button the other day.”

I sat down in the chair reserved for clients and pointed at him. “Hey. It’s not my fault. It’s like a homing beacon down there.”

He stared at me flatly. “Why the heels? Is it because you thought I’d fire you for wanting to get me into bed?”

“What is this? Is it open season for flirting here now?”

“Would you prefer I ask you to get out of my office?” He raised one eyebrow. “Or is it because you’re not good at flirting?”

“How do you know I’m not good? I could be a master flirter for all you know.”

He said nothing. Just blinked at me.

I sighed again. “Fine, I’m a terrible flirter. It comes with the disaster side of me. Honestly, I’m running out of good things to say about myself.”

Cameron leaned back with a smirk. “You’re a great sidekick when someone’s being hit on.”

“Ooh, yeah, that’s what every man wants. For the girl he’s dating to be good at stopping other women hitting on him.” I paused. “Actually, that’s not such a bad thing. But sidekick isn’t a great term for it. And we’re not actually dating, but whatever.”

“We could be dating.”

“We’d have to go on a date to be dating.”

“So let’s go on a date.”

“It’s not exactly the romantic dinner offer in the movies, is it?”

“Sorry. I’ll buy rose petals next time.”

I rolled my eyes. I was starting to wonder what I’d gotten myself into here.

Cameron leaned forward on the desk and gave me a lazy, sexy smile. “Come on. It’s what we’d do if we didn’t work together. One date isn’t going to hurt.”


Tags: Emma Hart Young Adult