Step 1: Leave the bathroom.
Step 2: Act normal.
Step 3: Analyze this later, when I’m not cowering in Ben’s erotically spiced bathroom.
It’s a solid plan. I think I can manage it. But before I can leave, I have to do one thing.
I stand and cross to his medicine cabinet. I’m a woman on a mission and not even my freshly minted crush-shame can stop me. I open the door and spot it immediately: cologne. And it’s in a green bottle, of course. What other color would it be? My whole world is painted green these days.
When I uncap it and take a big whiff, the thunderbolt of attraction that rips through me is so intense, I have to grip the vanity. And that’s when it hits me:
I am totally infatuated with Ben Mackenzie.
Chapter 19
Sugar or salt rim?”
“Salt, definitely.”
I’ve successfully executed the first two steps of my three-step plan, and Ben hasn’t appeared to notice my jumpier-than-usual behavior, thank God. I drag his glass through the salt and pour in the freshly made margarita, then present it to him like a winning lottery ticket. He takes a sip and his eyes widen.
“What did you put in here? Crack?”
“Sorry, can’t tell you. It’s my special recipe.”
He surveys the various citrus carcasses and cocktail artifacts strewn about the countertop. “I guess I’ll have to use my powers of deduction.”
I laugh. “No, I mean I can’t tell you because I make it a little differently every time. It’s mostly the fresh-squeezed fruit. Margaritas taste so much better if you don’t use mix.”
“Evidently.” He scans the ingredients I have laid out. “So how can I help?” He starts unbuttoning his shirt cuffs, then glances down at his suit pants. “Maybe I should change.”
“Oh, no you don’t. If I don’t get to wear comfy clothes, then neither do you, sir.”
I’m proud of how steady I keep my voice, like the thought of him shedding clothing doesn’t put me at risk of a cardiac event.
“I can’t even take off my tie?”
I let out a loud sigh, like this is an outrageous request. “Fine. You may remove your tie.”I’m so generous.“But for every item you take off, I get to take one off, too.” What am I evensaying?
He reels back. “Seriously? I’ll take them all off, then.”
“Never mind. I... misspoke.”Backpedal, backpedal.
“Can I pick the item?”
“No!Just forget I said anything.”
Ben narrows his eyes, very deliberately moving his hands to his neck. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he loosens his tie, pulls it over his head, and throws it on the counter.
It’s so erotic, I can barely stand up straight.
I arch an eyebrow and place my hands at the neck of my blouse. His eyes flare.
“Just kidding.” I kick off my leopard-print heels and cackle. I’m quite a seductress.
He unbuttons his top couple of shirt buttons, not breaking my gaze. He’s calling my bluff. Well. If he thinks I’m backing down, he’s in for a surprise.
I unbutton the top button of my blouse. He untucks his shirt. I untuck mine. He slides off his watch, and off come my earrings. We’re contestants onStrip Chef, the hottest new show on the Food Network.
