Page 80 of Playing Mr. Perfect

His eyes narrow with confusion. “Care to elaborate?”

“He took me home and gave me one of the best kisses of my life. Then he said he’s not here just for sex and told me he rented a house here for however long it takes for me to realize we’re more than a fling. Then he left and showed up to walk me to work this morning.” I’m not about to tell him the other thing we did this morning, or that he walked away with my underwear in his pocket.

His brow furrows. “He left after just a kiss?”

“Yes. I was shocked, too, but it’s kind of nice, right?” Clay’s voice whispers through my mind. One day I’m going to teach you that phrases like kind of and might have are jagged little buggers. “It was nice. He was making his point, and it was appreciated…after I drove myself crazy over it.”

Ravi grins. “There’s the overthinker I know and love. It sounds like he’s serious about you.”

“He says he is.”

“Why do you sound skeptical?”

I sigh heavily. “I don’t know. I love that he’s making this huge effort, and I want to believe him, but this is his off season. Once he’s playing again, it could be a whole different story.”

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t be too quick to assume it.” He sets the remainder of his muffin on the plate and crosses his arms, studying me. “What’s that thing you always say about men and pennies?”

“That a man needs to treat a woman like a diamond before he’s treated like he’s worth a penny?”

“That’s it. There are sparkles all around you, Pep. I know it’s scary, because he is a jock, but Morgyn would say you manifested your perfect man, and he sure knows how to pick muffins.”

“All of my sisters would have a field day with this, but you know I don’t believe in manifestation.”

“Maybe it’s time you did.” He pushes from the counter, heading for the door. “Don’t forget, I’m out of the office from ten to one, and we meet with Dr. Bowry this afternoon.”

“I know. I’ll be ready.”

I think about what he said as I finish my muffin. Clay pushes buttons I never knew I had, and he makes me sexually feral. I like who I am with him, even if I don’t understand it. But I never would have manifested a man who did those things.

And I would have missed out on a really special man and the best sex of my life.

Why is this so confusing? I clean my plate and head back to my office.

I’m greeted with the sweet smell of my gorgeous roses and feel myself swooning all over again. As I gaze down at the sketch of us from Paris, my cell chimes with a text.

Clay: I can still taste you.

My body ignites, making me even more aware of my nakedness under my dress. I may not believe in manifestation, but I know I’ll never be satisfied with anything less than the button-pushing bad influence that is Clay Braden.

The morning is busy, and I get the same flash of panic about my lack of underwear every time I see my staff and when I work with Min in the lab. But the thrill of knowing they have no clue about my naughty little secret brings a new level of excitement. I get an adrenaline rush with every interaction from the risk of being discovered. Getting away with it emboldens me, and the high of it makes me even more productive, which is a good thing, since I’ve got hours of accounting software training ahead of me.

At eleven forty-five, I head to the lobby to wait for the software trainer, Jeanette Woods. I answer a phone call and send it to Min’s voicemail since she and Chris are running simulations in the lab. A sharply dressed, middle-aged brunette comes through the door as I place the receiver back in the cradle.

“Jeanette?” I walk around the reception desk to greet her.

“Yes.”

“Hi. I’m Pepper.” I shake her hand. “Thanks for making the time to come out.”

“You’re a busy woman. I’m glad you could fit me in.” We’ve been trying to coordinate the training for several weeks.

“Sorry things have been a little hectic around here. But you’ve got my attention now.”

The door opens behind her, and Clay walks in carrying a shopping bag, looking handsome as can be in a gray sweater, jeans, and the sexy bomber jacket he’d worn in Paris. He flashes those dimples, sending my stomach into somersaults. I fight the urge to drop my gaze to see if he went commando like he promised, and just the thought of it has my neediest parts clenching. Nonono. “I’m sorry, Jeanette, can you excuse me for just a minute?”

“Of course,” she says, and steps to the side.

I go to Clay and lower my voice. “Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.”