But I just bend my head and kiss her…then take my time making sure the nextthreetimes count.
And when my lids feel heavy and sleep is barreling toward me, I tug her limp body into my arms and let it come, hoping that she’s all bluster.
But in the morning I find out she’s not.
Because in the morning?—
I wake up and she’s gone.
Eleven
Marie
I exhaleand roll my shoulders, exhaustion clinging to every single cell.
I didn’t get much sleep last night.
So totally worth it to have experienced all the fucking that Jace Henderson can dish out.
But I’d meant what I said last night.
It was a moment of insanity, a blip in time, an enjoyable—very—distraction.
That was it.
And I’m fine with that.
Even though my body is humming this afternoon, wanting another interlude, wanting more time with Jace and his very delicious self, I’m deliberately focusing on work.
Because work is safe.
Because work is the best.
Because work isn’t going to turn on me the moment I fall for him…er,it.
The only problem is that my mind is drifting, not wanting to focus on the contract in front of me, nor the meeting prep for my check-in with Jean-Michel in a half hour.
Nor my inbox or my voicemails or clearing the insane amount of papers and files, sticky notes and pens off my desk.
My organization style is…
Chaos.
I know where everything is—just ask me and I can tell you exactly where I stowed the Post-It with important dates for distribution of product from Jean-Michel’s winery, Oak Ridge Vineyards, from my meeting last week. I can locate the exact pad I took notes for a business trip to Germany next month. Same as the file for one of our new collaborators and the lunch order for our on-site on Friday.
Chaos, but organized chaos all the same.
“You look like you’re a million miles away.”
My gaze jerks up from my messy desk to my boss, who’s standing, arms crossed, leaning back against the doorframe.
He’s swapped his usual suit for a tee and jeans, telling me without actually telling me that he’s spent the morning at the vineyard. I push up from my desk. “I’ll run down to your office, grab your spare suit.”
He waves me off, steps toward me, blue eyes searching.
Andpiercing. The man never misses a thing.
Case in point?
