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I don’t need the reminder. I’ve been picturing that skirt hugging her hips and the curve of her breasts under her blouse since she got here. My cock stirs, and by the time I stand to pour Nina’s coffee, I’m hard.

“Might want to sit down before she walks in,” Jarek says, grinning.

I pour the coffee, adjust my pants, and set the steaming mug in front of the empty chair where Nina will find it when she comes down. Then I sit back down. Same as every morning so far. Five minutes from now, she’ll walk in half-awake, still in her pajamas.

Her coffee will still be hot.

“Like you two are any better,” I say, half-scolding. “I’ve seen you watching her.”

Pascal raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not denying a damn thing. She’s stunning. But she’s our assistant for the month, and we have several important events coming up. We don’t want to scare her off and end up without a concierge.”

Jarek nods. “Agreed. We’re here to relax, not create complications. Keep it in your pants, boys.”

“Fine,” I say. “New rule. Nina’s off-limits. She works for us. That’s it.”

“Should we shake hands on it?” Jarek asks. “Pinky swear, maybe?”

“Unnecessary,” I say. “Good thing you’re my best friend, or I’d find you annoying.”

Jarek laughs, Pascal elbows him, and the two of them go for the last piece of toast. I get there first.

Then Nina’s voice comes from the doorway. “Should I leave you guys alone?”

Jarek and Pascal freeze and turn to her. So do I.

Pajamas. Same as every morning. She’ll grab her coffee, disappear upstairs, and come back an hour later buttoned up and all business. I prefer this version.

Her hair falls loose and messy around her shoulders, and that thin cotton sleep shirt does nothing to hide her nipples.

Fuck.

She has no idea what she does to us. Or she doesn’t care.

I’d bet money Pascal and Jarek are hard under the table, too. But we made a rule. We’re grown men in our thirties, not horny college kids anymore. We can handle ourselves.

Jarek clears his throat and looks around the room. “We need to get this place decorated for Christmas.”

“On it.” Nina grabs her coffee. “I’ll line up some designers today. Budget?”

“There isn’t one,” Pascal says. “Make it look nice.”

“You got it.” She turns to leave, then stops in the doorway and looks back at me. “Thanks again for the coffee, Zander.”

I nod. I don’t need to say anything. The look between us says enough.

CHAPTER 4

NINA

Zander knows exactly how I take my coffee. At our first breakfast, while the four of us went over expectations and my agenda for the month, he somehow noticed every little thing I did and remembered it.

Dash of cream, one sugar.

I can’t remember anyone ever paying that much attention to how I take my coffee, let alone making it for me every morning without my having to ask.

With Reid, I poured cheap coffee from the machine in his podcast studio whenever I visited in the mornings. He didn’t pay a damn bit of attention to me or my coffee while he was on air. In fact, I don’t remember him ever making me a coffee. Kind gestures weren’t really his thing.

I’m glad those days are over. Truly. I just wish they hadn’t bruised my self-esteem so badly before they ended. Now kindness feels like it always comes with expectations, even when it’s just a very, very attractive, wealthy man setting out my coffee. I wouldn’t call myself jaded, but Reid taught me how well a man can claim to care about someone while secretly collecting material to use against her. Men will always protect their own reputations above all else. I guess that’s just the way it goes.