Cash rolled his eyes, finally thoroughly exasperated. “I will brook no more arguments.Pack up your cats.”
“Okay, boss.”
His shoulders relaxed as he finally simmered down, and she could see the snark building in him. He asked, “Also, you belong to a gym?”
Oh, a chubby crack.
Rox popped her chin up. “Yeah, I do. Where I take kickboxing, and I will pound your skinny, arrogant, lawyer butt if you make a fat joke.”
Cash chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. You should try mine. It has an excellent juice bar with very good food service. The treadmills have desks. I often look at contracts on a laptop while I’m there. You might like it.”
She rolled her eyes at that, too. “Dude, you have a serious workaholism problem. There’s gotta be a twelve-step program for that.”
