“Thanks.” I raise my bottle to him and take a swallow.
“Anytime,” he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way to the back of the bar.
Thankfully, the place is nearly empty at this hour, so I take my phone from my pocket and reread Kiera’s email, studying the facts at hand. I realize that, aside from her lack of a sex life—which I still find hard to believe—I don’t know nearly enough about her. I’m hoping to change that today.
According to what she’s written, she’s ready to trade commitment for one-night stands. What, or who, made her believe she should? She’s vague, which leaves me wondering what her endgame is. Yes, she wants to learn how to have no-strings fun, but people eventually grow tired of that shit. Or so I’ve heard. Her decision is surprising because she’s got an innocence that clings to her. She doesn’t seem like the fuck-around type.
“Does she just want to try something new?”
I continue wracking my brain for answers when the front door opens. As I whip around, I see Kiera scanning the bar until her stare lands on me. Then she gives me a hesitant smile and a shy wave. I nod back, indicating the stool beside me.
As she walks in my direction, I notice she’s exchanged her usual heels for flats. Her long, black pants accentuate her sleek thighs and lush hips. Her fitted pink blouse cinches her small waist with a feminine bow and clings to the breasts I’ve tried—and failed—not to salivate over. Her fair skin glows under the sun slanting through the windows. Her long, dark hair, once in an office-appropriate bun, now spills over her shoulders, the front half secured away from her face. Even though I can tell she’s nervous, she looks sexy as hell.
Don’t lose your head over this girl—or your cool.
“Hi. I hope I’m not late.” Anxiety edges her quiet voice.
“No, not at all. Please, have a seat.”
“Thanks.” She complies, setting her purse on the bar.
“How are you?”
Kiera settles a lock of hair behind her shoulder self-consciously. “I’m…okay.”
“I’m glad you came.” With a friendly smile, I gesture to the drinks in front of us. “Beer? Water?”
“Thank you.” She wraps her fingers around the cold brew, looking pleasantly surprised. “You bought me a drink? What if I didn’t show?”
“Call it a gut instinct.”
“You’ve got a good gut.” She takes a swig. “Thank you. You know, I’ve never had a guy buy me a drink before.”
Wait. What?I stare at her, baffled. “Seriously? No man has ever bought you a drink?”
“Nope. Maybe this will be one of many firsts.” She clinks her bottle with mine.
If she’s that sheltered, then I’ve got a lot of educating to do. And I’m not bullshitting myself. If she says yes, this will be damn interesting… “I’m glad you’re considering my offer.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “I’m glad you didn’t laugh in my face about mine.”
“Why would I? You were being honest. I respect that.”
She nods. “Thanks for taking me seriously, but are you sure?”
I shouldn’t be. Not only does she work for me, but I’m very aware of the decade age gap between us…not to mention the billion reasons I have not to get involved with her. Frankly, I doubt my third-degree burns from Amber will ever heal. It’s the main reason I’m never getting emotionally entangled again. But Kiera asking questions shows me she’s trying to be considerate, especially when I wasn’t precisely her first choice. I can appreciate that.
“Will it bother you that I’m your boss? We don’t forbid interoffice relationships in the employee handbook, so…” Maybe we should, but that’s another topic for another day.
She blinks up at me. “It won’t bother me unless it bothers you.”
It should…but it’s kind of hot. “Will bother you that I’m older?”
“No. That’s actually a relief. You know…things.”
I laugh. “Yes, I know things.”
“Good. That’s good.”