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From the way my mouth was salivating and the way the blood was pooling in my lower half, I definitely thought she needed more than a job. And I probably would have given her a night of more had she not been such a mouthy little thing on the slopes yesterday.
“Have a seat,” I said, stepping out of her way and motioning toward the chair opposite mine. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
I watched as her jaw moved, a visible gulp shifting the muscles while she stepped around me. The door behind us closed quietly, Holly’s usual exit. The leather of Raylene’s chair squeaked as it gave way to her hips and thighs when she sat down.
“So, Raylene,” I started, making my move from behind her to my own chair. Her eyes followed me every step of the way, a nervous cat too scared to pounce. I curled my fingers around the backside of my office chair, leaning forward over it, taking up more space than I should. Holly’s advice be damned.
“It’s Ray, if you don’t mind.”
I nodded. “So, Ray. Tell me,” I drawled, the smirk I was holding back slowly making its way to the surface. “Do you know how to ski?”
Chapter 3
Ray
Iwas fucked. So entirely, utterly, horribly fucked.
I cleared my throat, sending out a silent fuck you to my ski instructor from yesterday for not saying a word. “No,” I said. I forced myself to sound far more confident than I felt. “In all honesty, I feel much more comfortable in a pair of ice skates. But I can learn if that’s a necessary prerequisite for the job.”
The Brute chuckled and stared me down, his knuckles whitening around the thick leather of his chair before he abruptly released it. “It’s not. But I doubt you’d pick it up very easily.”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. You need this job, Ray. “What’s that supposed to mean?” For fucks sake.
“It means that after your performance yesterday, I don’t think you’d be capable of standing on two feet in the snow, let alone with skis attached.” I watched every muscle in his body move as he sat down in his chair, his elbows on the desk and fingers steepled.
He was every bit the asshole I saw yesterday.
His dark blonde hair was slicked back professionally, much different from his helmet hair on the slopes. The smallest dusting of stubble ghosted his cheeks and jawline, both of which were annoyingly chiseled to perfection. Hard lines made up his entire physique, and even through his suit, I could tell he had an amazing build. Hell, through his snow bibs I could tell. The man clearly worked out and likely spent more of his life out there on the slopes than he did in his office. Lucky me.
“Are you going to ask me genuine questions to find out if I’m qualified for the job or just insult my skiing abilities on my first day trying?”
Long, dark blonde lashes batted at me as he centered himself. “That was your first time?”
I nodded.
“Why were you out there?”
Shit. Might as well be honest. “I was checking out the building. Meeting some of the staff. Trying to get a leg up, really.”
He nodded, his gaze wandering toward the window. “That’s actually… smart. Really smart.” The muscles and tendons in his hand moved as he massaged the hinge of his jaw. “Why do you want to work here? And don’t give me any of that standard bullshit as in ‘I love what your company stands for.’ Those spiels do nothing for me.”
Well, that was unexpected. “Uh,” I began, racking my brain for something that didn’t sound entirely rehearsed. Spiels were what I was used to in interviews, not necessarily honesty. “I need the money. I’m from Boulder. I’m a good employee and I have the experience.”
“I know you do. That’s why I brought you in first.”
“So you didn’t just desperately need to get your irritation out from yesterday?” I joked, daring him to tell me otherwise.
“Obviously I didn’t know it was you until you walked in. We didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries yesterday.” Dark, almost black eyes clashed with mine. “Do you genuinely want this job?”
I shifted in my chair, the leather suddenly more uncomfortable than it was seconds ago. “Need and want go hand in hand.”
He exhaled through his nose quickly, a little half-hearted laugh following. “That could apply to so many things, Raylene.”
“It’s Ray,” I repeated, cursing myself internally for not being more restrained. “And please don’t make this into something sexual.”
Wade leaned forward onto his desk, his smirk growing bigger. “I wasn’t.” A ringlet of deep blonde hair fell from where it had sat neatly on his head, resting against his brow. “I was talking about your blunder on the slopes. You needed—no, wanted—to crash into me.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I definitely didn’t.”
