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Grace gave a guilty laugh. “I’m not a one-trick pony. The video camera portion of the show has been played out.”
He gave her a wicked smile. “You sure? Because I’ve found that some women really get off on—”
“Nice digs,” she interrupted, looking around and appearing genuinely impressed. He had to admit, the office did beat the sterile cubicle environment of the rest of the floor. The “bullpen,” as it was affectionately known, was a lot of dull textured walls covered with sports and cologne posters. It was rowdy, often smelled like coffee and Thai takeout, and had more four-letter words flying around than a truck stop.
His new office was a little more fit for … well, grown-ups. He even had a new potted plant from his sisters.
But the truth was? He missed the bullpen. Just a little.
Then again, no woman looking and smelling like Grace Brighton had ever visited when he’d been out there with the boys, so this whole executive vibe clearly had its perks.
She thrust one of the elaborate-looking coffee drinks at his chest. “I brought you this.”
He stared down at the whipped-cream concoction in surprise. “You brought me coffee?”
And then, damn it, he melted just a little, because she looked embarrassed.
“Yeah. I, um, I just …”
“Thanks,” he said, meaning it. Jake was normally a skim latte kind of guy, but he’d take caffeine any way that he could get it.
Although that wasn’t what had his insides feeling a little jump. It was her. And the fact that she’d thought about him.
“I thought maybe you’d written me off after I posted our text message conversation online,” he said, gesturing for her to sit down.
“Well, I can’t say I loved that,” she said. Her lips closed around the green straw of her drink, and Jake’s fingers tightened reflexively as he watched her mouth. Damn this woman.
“But,” she continued, “I get that I had it coming.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “So I get forgiveness and a coffee?”
“You sound suspicious.”
“Sweetheart, men don’t make it past the age of twenty without learning to suspect every gesture from a female.”
Grace gave him a warm smile. “It’s just coffee, Jake. I was in the mood for something sweet, and I was thinking about you while I was in Starbucks, and somehow I ended up with two drinks.”
He took a small sip. It was sweet, but not cloyingly so. A lot like the woman sitting across from him.
“So about our next date—” He broke off when she looked away and squirmed a little in her seat. “Grace?”
She bit her lip. “It’s just, um … I’m not sure, after what happened the other night …”
“When I kissed you?”
This time she definitely squirmed. Yeah, I know the feeling, lady. He hadn’t been able to think about much else since that night either. He’d done some squirming of his own, of a different variety.
“Well, I’m just worried that things might be getting out of hand. I mean, there was that first date when I made the mistake of thinking our connection was real.…”
It was, damn it. It was real.
“And then there was the second date,” she continued, “where everyone knew where your mind was …”
He held up an objecting finger to that. “Because you played me, even though your mind was just as much in the gutter as mine—”
“The point is,” Grace interrupted, “we seem to be doing a lot of playing each other, and it seems to be less about the magazine and more about …”
She stopped short of saying us, but it was written all over her face.
