Oh.
Oh.
They’re asking if Anita is available.
They’re interested.
Both of them.
Heat floods my face, and I know I’m blushing, which is absolutely not a masculine response. I try to push it down, force it away, and overcompensate by spreading my legs wider in my stance, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No,” I say, my voice cracking again. I clear my throat. “She’s not with another man right now. Or woman. Or anyone. She’s very single. Extremely single. Aggressively single.”
Stop talking.
“Why do you ask?” The question comes out defensive, almost protective, and I realize too late that’s probably exactly how a brother would respond.
Mason’s grin softens into something more genuine. “Just curious. She seemed interesting.”
Dylan laughs. “Come on, man. Grab your coffee and sit with us. We’ve got about twenty minutes before we need to head out.”
“Right. Coffee.” I turn back to Nina, who’s been watching this entire exchange with undisguised delight. “Can I get a mocha? Large.”
Her eyes light up. “Just like your sister! You two are adorable.”
Shit.
“Actually,” I say quickly, “change that. I’ll have a black coffee. With vanilla syrup. Very… manly.”
Nina giggles, and the sound is simultaneously endearing and mortifying. “You’re so cute. I’ll bring it out to you, Ash.”
She practically shoos me away from the counter, and I have no choice but to follow Mason and Dylan to their corner table.
Just act like a guy. Talk like a guy. Don’t stare at how attractive they are.
I sit down in the empty chair, trying to arrange my limbs properly. Legs apart, not crossed. Elbows on the table. One hand rubbing the back of my neck like I’ve seen men do when they’re casual.
Both of them are looking at me, and now that I’m closer, their scents are even stronger.
Mason’s warmth mixes with Dylan’s wild honey and sun-dried linen and something smoky like a campfire. The combination is intoxicating, wrapping around me like a blanket, and I have to consciously stop myself from leaning forward to breathe in deeper.
This is genuinely evil.
How am I supposed to function when they smell this good?
It’s just like Jasper’s sandalwood, molasses, and pine. These men are walking pheromone weapons, and I’m trying to conduct an undercover investigation while my traitorous body wants to climb across the table and?—
No. Stop. Focus.
“So,” Dylan starts, leaning back in his chair with the casual confidence of a guy who’s never fumbled a presentation in his life. “Your résumé says you’ve got experience in social media?”
“Yeah,” I say, matching his posture, sprawling out just enough to look relaxed but not like I’m trying too hard. “Online posting, engagement strategies, content creation, and some graphic design. I’ve done freelance work for a few years now, mostly with lifestyle brands, a tourism board, and a boutique gear company. Smaller accounts, but high engagement.”
I leave out the names on purpose. They didn’t ask, and the recruiter never pressed. It was one quick virtual interview, a few follow-up questions, and just like that, a job offer. No Zoom call, no ID check, no one bothering to see my face. Lucky break? Or just desperate to fill the role? It’s a temporary position and paid cash in hand, so I’m not going to complain.
Either way, I’m here. And it’s not a total lie. I really have worked with companies like that, helping with content creation and managing their social media.
“That’s perfect,” Mason states, straightening a little. “We need help building out our online presence. Word of mouth gets us through the summer rush, but if we want to grow? We need to be consistent. Professional.”
