5
Laney
A noise pullsme out of a sleep so hard and deep that I barely remember lying down at all or where I am.
“I fixed the naked man!” I gasp.
“Must’ve been a sight,” a deep voice replies.
Hawaii.
Emma’s wedding.
AndTheo. Looming in the doorframe, backlit by the soft glow of a night-light somewhere beyond my room, shirtless, pants-less, and definitely broader and harder than I remember him.
More tattooed too, though I can’t see them in the dark. It’s just the memory of the ink all over his chest and stomach and arms.
Andwhat the hell am I doing,thinking about Theo’s body and tats?
“A large corporation ordered three thousand mugs with their logo and the artwork got switched and they were sent three thousand mugs of a guy with a Santa hat covering his—”Shut up, Laney. He doesn’t care why you were delayed getting here. Or that you’re dreaming about work. Or rambling because your baser instincts are overruling your better sense. I clear my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Scoot over,” he replies.
“Scoot…what?”
“Over. I get this side.”
“You…huh?” I am one hundred percent fully awake now, but his orders have scrambled my brain and made actual sentences impossible.
“The fucking couch broke. It’s a king-size bed. Scoot. Over. Or go sleep on the floor.”
Nois on the tip of my tongue, but it won’t come out. “I’ll fix the couch,” I stutter.
“Knock yourself out.”
His answer puts my teeth on edge.
I’m tryingso hardto be nice to him. And he’s being an utter ass.
I should be glad he’s being an ass. His personality should compensate for my hormonal reaction to his body and his voice.
Except it doesn’t.
My nipples are hard and there’s a frantic anticipation deep in my belly at the idea that I might have to sleep in the same bed as Theo.
It’s been over a year since I broke my parents’ hearts when I declined Christopher’s proposal, which means it’s been over a year since I’ve realized that their image of what my life should be and what I want for my life don’t line up.
Work is fine. Work isgreat, in fact. I’m fully in step with what they want for the company professionally, and honestly honored that they’re letting me prove I can do what it takes to run things when they retire.
Not because I want to please them with what I think, but because I believe they’re taking it in the right direction to continue growing and thriving.
It’s outside work hours that things get tense. Theyreallywant me to get back into the dating world with someone safe. Someone respectable. Someone with good genes for making the next generation of Kingston babies, preferably two or three in case the first one isn’t a perfect clone of me.
So, basically, they want me to live a gender-reversed Victorian-era dream.
Instead, I’m nearly thirty and finally hitting my teenage rebellion stage.
Which is a bad time to have my hormones reacting to Theo Monroe.
