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Suddenly, raised voices catch my attention as the train lurches forward, and I crane my neck to see what’s going on. Some arrogant businessman is arguing with a woman, and she’s shouting insults and waving a flyer in his face.
I arch my brow at Linc and shrug. Just another day in the city. When we reach the next stop, the same man pushes through angrily, obviously in a hurry to get off the train. He spins to hurl one last remark to the woman, and when he does, his elbow hits my coffee cup, sending milky brown coffee flying from my hand to land smack dab in the center of Linc’s chest.
The shock on his face would almost be comical if it weren’t for the huge stain spreading across what I’m sure is a ridiculously overpriced dress shirt.
“Fuck,” he grits out, glaring at the man. But he’s already off the train.
“Here,” I say, shoving my tablet into his hands. “I’ve got this.”
I dig in my bag for a minute and proudly produce stain-removing wipes, holding them up in front of him as if it’s a winning lottery ticket.
Linc chuckles and shakes his head. “What would I do without you? You’re like a Boy Scout or something.”
“You’d probably be avoiding the train and enjoying the luxury of your fancy chauffeured car. That’s what.” I smile and pull a wipe from the package, hurriedly dabbing at the stain. It’s really not that bad. With any luck, it won’t even be noticeable.
I place my palm flat on his chest, pulling the shirt taut so I can scrub the fabric.
I’m suddenly acutely aware of how close we are. Inches apart, really. I take a deep breath, but that only makes it worse because now I have a lungful of his spicy, musky scent. Shit. My hand shakes as I continue to work on the stain. His gaze bores into me. I can feel it.
“What?” I say, not looking up, my voice nearly as shaky as my hand, and I want to curse whoe
ver that asshole was. There is no way Linc isn’t going to notice the effect he’s having on me right now. The way my fingers are twitching with the urge to dig into his shirt and pull him even closer so I can rub my body all over his.
“I think you’ve got it,” he says. He’s right. I’m still furiously scrubbing a stain that’s no longer there. He drops a casual kiss on my hair, causing me to freeze. “Thanks, Jules. Saving the day yet again.”
I swallow, schooling my face before I look up at him with a too-bright smile. “That’s my job.”
His eyes flicker with something I don’t quite recognize, a sexy smile curving lips that I really want to lick, and I tell myself it’s nothing. The hand that’s back on my lower back, resting oh-so-lightly there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The fucking kiss he just dropped like that’s just what we did.
Nothing. It’s nothing. So, why does it feel like something?
Linc
Jules is so fucking cute. I mean, who else would have a giant stack of stain removing wipes in her purse? She’s always coming to my rescue one way or another. I lucked out when she fell into my lap.
Well, not literally into my lap. Though I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had more than one fantasy of something along those lines. A late night at the office, her leaning over me as we work, her just happening to trip and fall and land right on my dick. Okay, more than one fantasy. More like I have a whole spank bank of them.
A smile pulls at my lips as I rest my hand on her back, fighting the impulse to yank her to me.
“Are you laughing at me again?” Jules says. “There is nothing wrong with being prepared. Saved your ass today, didn’t I?”
“That you did, Jules. That you did.” I grin in earnest now, her sassy attitude making me forget all about the fact that I was irritated by the coffee.
She smiles back, shaking her head. “You’re so crazy.”
Yeah, crazy about you.
I want to tell her so badly. How much I fucking want her. How she drives me absolutely mad with need and want and desire.
But I don’t. For the same reason I’ve kept this little secret to myself for the past two years. She’s fucking amazing. And I’d be an asshole to mess up what a good thing we have going. As her boss, as her friend. All of it.
That doesn’t mean I don’t totally check out her ass as she bends over to pick up the now-empty coffee cup. Or that when the train takes a curve, I happen to lean into a little more than necessary just so I can get a whiff of that sweet strawberry scent that wafts off her mahogany hair.
I can’t even smell strawberries anymore without getting a boner. Seriously. That’s what this girl does to me.
“So, Wes has seriously found a girl?” she asks, her nose wrinkling up in disbelief.
I sigh. Back to my brother. “Yeah. Seems like it. Why? You jealous?”
