Jake stood and came around the desk to stand in front of her.
“Consider me on call for all your drunk babysitting needs.” He reached out to take her hands. “And I apologize for everything that went down at your place. I don’t want you to think that I’d ever take advantage of a woman who’s been drinking, or—”
“Jake.” She cut him off with a groan. “You barely got to second base, and then you watched the world’s saddest strip show and went home alone. I think that’s the opposite of taking advantage.”
She grinned sheepishly, and the pressure constricting his chest slowly loosened.
“So we’re okay?”
Mabel stepped closer and tightened her fingers around his. “We’ll be okay once we finish what we started on Saturday.”
And with that he was fully erect, which Mabel clearly discovered when she leaned against him for a kiss. She gave a satisfiedhmmmmand rocked her hips forward.
Jake groaned. “Sweetheart, if you don’t stop that, we’re going to finish what we startedright now, and I don’t think Don McLean writes a song long enough for that.”
Still, he wasn’t ready to quit kissing her, so he tugged her back and sank into the softness of her mouth until Mabel pulled away, breathing unsteadily. She dropped her head to his shoulder, giving it a quick, sharp bite through his shirt. He hissed and thrust against her again, wishing for her tight heat all around him. Why hadn’t they both called in to work today for a do-over?
She took a step back and toyed with the end of one blond braid. “Want to get dinner tonight? Not lunch, and not at the office. Dinner, in public. And then other stuff in private.”
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.
“My evening is yours. Although I’m guessing your dinnertime is more like late afternoon thanks to your sleep schedule.”
“You’ll get used to my rock ’n’ roll lifestyle,” she teased, dancing forward for one more quick kiss. “I love being able to do that.”
“Agreed.” He hooked a finger into the waistband of her jeans and pulled her into him again. Good Lord, the things that woman could do with her tongue.
“Who would’ve thought I’d meet such a good guy during a corporate takeover?” She laughed as she slithered out of his arms, sounding so carefree that something in Jake’s chest shifted.
He grabbed for her hand, turning her back toward him, and opened his mouth before he could have second or third or tenth thoughts. “We need to talk,” he blurted. “There are things I need to tell you. About me, about us. About your—”
She gently tugged her hand away. “Sorry, but I have to go. Song’s ending.” She pointed at the speaker over his shoulder on the wall.
An uncomfortable mix of relief and queasiness swamped him; she’d cut him off before he could say the wordjob, which would’ve skated him right up to the edge of professional malpractice. And now he had a few more hours to decide whether to jeopardize his own job for her.
“Okay. We’ll talk tonight.”
“Okay.” She smiled and slipped away, and sixty seconds later her cheerful voice came through the wall speaker, teasing Dave about the groupies he’d attracted at the show on Saturday night.
Jake managed to resume his work with more focus this time, until the door opened again and Brandon breezed in, setting down his briefcase.
“Good news, buddy. Today’s the day we shake things up. I’ve already called the staff in for a meeting as soon as the morning show’s over. You’ll join, right?” Not pausing for an answer, Brandon barreled on. “It’s all the changes we’ve been discussing. I’ve already talked to Roman, and it’s all coming together. By the way, you’ve got the final numbers on the trip, right?”
Jake’s stomach dropped. Today? This was really goddamn happeningtoday, when he was on the cusp of starting something real with Mabel? When he’d just comethis closeto violating every ethical obligation he had to warn her about what was waiting for her? His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and he stared numbly at the feckless rich boy in front of him until Brandon snapped his fingers impatiently. The sound jolted him to life, and he flipped through folders on his desk until he found the one with the projections he’d worked up.
Brandon flipped it open and ran his eyes down the rows of figures. “Looks great. Thanks.”
“Don’t do this, man.”
Brandon lifted his brows in surprise at Jake’s rushed words, but fuck, he had to try one more time to convince him to change his mind. Given Brandon’s general obliviousness about the emotional nuances of anyone but himself, he almost certainly had no idea that Jake and Mabel were anything more than lunch buddies, and Jake preferred to keep it that way. With effort, he adopted a just-us-guys tone. “I mean, think about it. All these changes aren’t going to be good for—”
“Nah, I got this.” Brandon’s voice was final. “You do the numbers, I do the radio, remember? Trust me.”
That was that. Discussion over.
Brandon pulled out his phone to take a call while Jake’s mind spun in circles, chasing a solution. Something drastic. He could quit the account. Resign in protest.
The thought—so tempting, sodecisive—danced across his frontal lobe before he dismissed it with a jerk of his head. Where the actualfuckhad that come from? Quit the account? Jeopardize his job, his promotion, his future? He slumped back in his chair, clenching his head in his hands. None of the decisions he’d made since he came to Beaucoeur would make any sense to anyone who knew him in Chicago. Taking long lunches. Losing his focus. Considering quitting over a woman he’d known for a couple of months.
