Page 33 of My Favorite Boss

I pulled the muffin close and broke off a piece, chewing. It was dense, sweet, and delicious. I closed my eyes as I swallowed the treat.

“You made this?” I asked, opening my eyes.

“Yes.”

I broke off another piece as she sat down, rolling up the sleeves of her flannel shirt.

“Tell me, Myers. Do you use these as bait in your lumberjack-hunting? Is some poor man wandering the park, dazed, looking for his shirt?” I asked lightly. The truth was, I hated seeing a man’s shirt on her, and I had the burning desire to know who it belonged to. “Or is your boyfriend some hulking construction worker who lets you raid his closet?”

She laughed, the sound odd in my office. It was low and sweet, making me long to join in her amusement. Instead, I ate another piece of the delicious muffin.

“The shirts belonged to my dad. They’re soft and comfortable. I like casual on the weekends.”

That news relaxed my shoulders for some reason. “Ah,” was all I said. “Your boyfriend doesn’t mind then, I suppose.”

She met my eyes. “No boyfriend.”

“Ah,” I repeated.

“Um, Alex, I mean Bane, I mean Mr. Bane…” She stumbled over her words.

I frowned. “Bane is fine, Myers. What are you so eloquently trying to express?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you for what you said last night. It was very kind of you to include me in your speech even though I didn’t work with you at the time you did that design.”

“You work for me now.”

“I know, and I like it here. I’m trying to do a good job for you.”

“Your efforts are noticed.”

For a moment, we stared at each other, a warmth growing around us. Her rich brown eyes grew larger, and her breathing picked up. Fascinated, I watched the pulse jump at the base of her throat. Saw the flush on her cheeks. She felt this as well.

I shook my head to dispel the thoughts that had crept in and cleared my throat.

“Your work is fine, Myers. As for helping today, perhaps you can work on some of the 3-D forms on the printer.”

She blinked. “Okay. Do you always do that for a client?”

“No, usually the 3-D images on a computer are good enough, but this client is very picky and likes a mock-up that they can stand and look at. He and his wife will move things around and tweak at times. This is their third resort, and they pay big for the concept model and display it under glass once it’s done. We have it fully finished for them once everything is set. They say it’s always a great draw in the lobby.”

“All right.”

“Luckily, the buildings are done already. Now, I add the flourishes.” I indicated the table at the other end of the room where the model was set up. It had been delivered after she’d left last night, and I planned on starting the time-consuming work of printing and placing the gardens, trees, and pathways.

“I can do that.”

“Great.”

We worked for a while, the only sound the printer as it carved out the trees and plants. None of them were huge, but each piece took between ten and twenty minutes. The larger ones, I would print during meetings or after hours.

I kept watching her. She had removed her flannel, and her T-shirt was tight across her breasts as she leaned over the printer, watching or removing one of the pieces being printed and cured. I found her as fascinating to observe today as I had all week.

She brought me a sandwich, this one ham and cheese on sourdough, and I devoured it. I drank the foamy coffee, still not ready to admit I liked it better than the black I’d always preferred. I wouldn’t want her to think she was getting the upper hand. After I finished the sandwich, I ate the rest of the muffin from the morning.

I studied her as I ate, not bothering to pretend to be working. I didn’t have to. She was busy enough for us both. Last night, she had been stunning. Sexy. A siren. Today, she was plain, simple. And I felt an even stronger draw to her than before. Her clothing covered her more than her usual skirts and blouses, yet she was effortlessly sexy.

And I had a feeling she didn’t even know it.