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However, Gwen is right about how early it is. Sleep still clouds my mind. I recently rolled out of an empty bed. I am a hot-blooded man, and I cannot be expected to be in boss mode all the time.
Right now, I’m not Brock Benson, CEO of a multi-million dollar company. Right now, I’m simply a man.
And I’m thinking about Gwen’s body. Her smile. Her scent. I’m thinking about how good she would feel in my arms.
Inappropriate.
Highly inappropriate.
But that’s where I’m at. I can’t lie to myself about this desire.
Besides, what would be the point of denying my attraction?
These are just thoughts. They mean nothing.
I won’t act on them.
She’s giggling again. “Oh, I know. It’s all dumb. I’m not seriously into him. Are you kidding me? But really, the faster you can get someone new on board, the better. This crush thing is like an illness, and I’ve got to nip it in the bud. Keep me updated, ‘kay?”
There’s a rustling sound, then her tone changes to dog-directed cooing. “I know, Zoey, sweetie munchkin. You want that harness off.”
Long pause.
More rustling.
I take a third step forward, and now I can see her. She’s crouched by Zoey, working the harness buckles with her fingers.
The phone’s pinned between her ear and shoulder. She talks into it, oblivious to me. “My fingers are crossed you get someone today. Oh, and that soup was so good. Thank you again. I’ll bring the dish by your office when I get in.”
She’s wearing a dark green sweater, just as loose and baggy as yesterday’s. This one is cable-knit, with a bulky collar that hides her neck like a scarf. The layer is long and falls down over her thighs, nearly to her knees. Faded bell bottoms trail down over her clogs.
Her wavy hair is piled high on her head with a clip of some sort, and a few charming wisps fall loose around her face.
She hangs up the phone and then rubs Zoey’s sides. “My goodness, look at that wiggle bottom when you wag that pretty tail of yours. You sure are sweet.”
I don’t want to surprise her.
I’ve done that too many times.
Besides, it’s nice to stand here and watch her. I’ll wait for her to notice me.
She continues rubbing Zoey’s sides. When Mr. Brown totters over, she has to divide her pets between the two. She gently takes off his harness while speaking in the same soft, cooing tone to him the whole time. Her voice is so quiet now, I can’t make out the words.
When she turns to place the harness on a side table, she finally spots me. Her eyes get wide with surprise.
She gapes at me.
Her skin, already milky, turns more pale.
Since she’s apparently not eager to greet me, I fill in the quiet. “Morning, Gwen.”
“Brock… Er—sir—I mean. Mr. Benson.”
I chuckle. “It’s too early for this awkwardness. Really, Gwen. We’ve gone over this, and first names are fine. Nice chat with Elizabeth Rixon?”
I say it to see how she’ll react. It’s thrilling to know her secret feelings toward me. Thrilling in a way I don’t understand.
She hesitates and fidgets with the harness nearby, pushing some stray straps so they’re folded up. “Oh! Um… Ahhh… Yeah, yeah, good talk. You heard that?”
