Page 44 of Flirting with 40

She twists her finger around a lock of hair while batting her eyelashes. “Don’t you have faith in me, Slade?”

My name. Her lips. Jesus.

“Complete faith.”

“Then what seems to be the problem?”

“There isn’t one.” I angle my head as I stare at her. “Bet taken. You’ll get that promotion. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”

And I don’t care how subjective her satisfaction is. Scratch that. I do care. Especially when my ability to give it is being judged. The most important part is that I just extended this weekend to at least one more night with her.

Not sure why that feels so important to do before we’ve even started . . . but this woman.

There’s just something about her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Blakely

Satisfaction.

What man measures things in satisfaction?

Ones who obviously knows how to give it.

Why this owns my thoughts as Slade and I stroll down the pathway toward our cabin is beyond me.

That’s a lie. I know why it runs on repeat in my head. I know why my body reacted viscerally to the thought of it.

Because all I could think about when he was sitting on the chaise lounge with me was our kiss last night.

Last night? It feels like forever ago and minutes ago at the same time.

And we’re headed to a cabin. Yes, I said it. A cabin. Where we will be alone.

At night.

The man I’m lusting after. The man I want to kiss me. The man who just linked his fingers through mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.

This all ties together in my overthinking brain.

There was comfort in the idea of a communal cabin with bunk beds. Sure, it would have been a pain in the ass to be with everyone nonstop, but it also would have allowed me to draw a line of propriety between Slade and me.

And now there is no safety. There is just Slade and me and nothing but a whole lot of thrumming desire in a very small space.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Slade says.

“Just enjoying the scenery.”

He laughs, and it rumbles through the silence. “You mean the scenery in the mountains of which you despise?”

I laugh. Cover blown. “I’m not too thrilled with this agenda,” I say, holding out the paper and shaking my head. “An obstacle course. Paddleboard yoga . . . I mean, I’m not really seeing anywhere how this is teambuilding.”

“A fishing contest. Capture the flag. Canoe races. Relay races. Hide-and-seek.” He raises his eyebrows at the grade-school games. “It sounds like your boss missed out on her childhood sleepaway camp and is trying to make up for lost time.”

“I was expecting a trust course and zip line or something like that. You know, things that force us to learn to trust each other. This definitely is not what I expected.”

“Says the city girl.”