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Shane takes his time, his gaze sweeping from my head to my bare feet. When he’s close enough that I can feel the heat of him, he drops his lips over my ear.
“Please hold.”
It’s impossible to stifle my whimper as Shane bolts back to the bedroom, returning with my sweatshirt and a pair of socks.
“Okay, I’m covered,” I tell him, after shoving on the clothes. “Let’s get to kissing.”
He chuckles, effortlessly lifting me onto the countertop. “I like when you’re impatient.”
My hands make little grabby motions. I want to taste the devious little smirk curling his mouth more than I want to finish my work in progress.
When Shane sets his warm palms on my knees, purposefully keeping himself at arm’s length, I pout.
“I want to talk to you about something.”
“Right now?”
His smile should be illegal.
“I’ll be quick about it.”
I cross my arms with a harrumph.
“It’s about your business.”
“I don’t have a business.”
Shane’s lips twist before he explains, using words like limited liability company and S corp and telling me that he’s in final interviews with an accomplished business manager. Then he talks about website development with private gallery options for collectors, and how Tenny’s sister, Arizona, would be interested in running social media accounts for the brand.
“Brand? I don’t have a brand. I’m just a slightly eclectic woman with a great work ethic.”
“Don’t do that.” His lips dive into a frown. “You know how talented you are.”
When I shrug, Shane releases a long exhale.
“How would you feel if I said I wasn’t good at sportsball?”
My forehead scrunches. “That’s not the same thing. You’re incredibly talented.”
“So are you.”
We stare at each other for a handful of heartbeats before I groan. “Fine, I’ll admit I’m moderately talented, but only because you used the word sportsball in a sentence.”
“Immensely. Say, ‘I’m immensely talented.’” Shane crosses his arms over his bare chest, and, good gracious, how am I supposed to focus when he’s doing that?
When he clears his throat, I finally drag my gaze upward.
What was I saying? Oh, right.
“I’m immensely talented.”
Shane’s jaw softens. “I want you to have complete creative control. If you want to interview web designers or see which portfolios—”
I hold up a hand. “I don’t want any of that.”
Shane blinks. “I’ve overstepped. I just—”
“No.” I laugh, giddiness washing over me.
