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Twenty-Two
Jayson wished she wouldn’t have changed. Seeing her in the low-cut navy blue dress that showcased her gorgeous breasts was torture. Also, incredible. He was gifted an eyeful whenever she bent over her plate.
Plus, she moaned while she ate.
Literally. Moaned.
He’d already been distracted by her bare legs and a pair of sexy high-heeled shoes. When she reentered the kitchen he’d nearly fumbled the bread basket. The moaning thing? Not helping matters.
“You should’ve been a chef,” she proclaimed before taking a giant bite out of a wedge of toasted garlic bread. He’d mixed minced garlic and fresh herbs with butter and slathered it onto the bread before baking. The result?
“Ohhhhh, God.” Her eyes slid shut and she tilted her head back.
Orgasmic. That was the result.
He adjusted his pants and drank down more wine. Maybe if he was super drunk he’d pass out and not be tempted to sleep with his ex-wife.
Again.
“If I were a chef, who would run your tech department?” Work. Talking about work wasn’t sexy.
She swiped her mouth with a cloth napkin. “Duh. Me.”
“Then who would run Marketing?” Fork hovering, he waited for her to answer but instead she twisted her lips to one side.
“We’d find someone.” She shrugged one petite bare shoulder. A shoulder he wanted to kiss.
“Someone better than you?”
“I’d rather be in tech, anyway.”
“You were. Before we split.”
“You were there first,” she argued.
She’d left the department—while not physically leaving the department. Her office was the same as it’d been back then. He’d originally given her the space since he felt as if he’d taken the job that should have been hers.
He wound pasta on his fork. “I would have thought you’d jump at the chance to be CEO when your father retired.”
“I was too busy putting out marketing fires to even think about it.”
He knew that. She worked hard.
“And now?” He leaned in, interested to hear her plans.
“I’m happy for Royce. And I’m relieved that the position of CEO didn’t come between him and Brannon.”
“What about you, G? What do you want?”
She blinked at him as if she was stunned that he’d asked. Had he ever asked her? Had anyone?
Damn. He’d been an ass.
“I want world peace.” She gave him a disingenuous smile and then ate a bite of garlic bread. “What’s wrong, do you want me out of your department?”
“You know I don’t.” He liked her there. “I need your brains.”
“Finally, a man who loves me for my brains.” She chuckled before going quiet. Probably because she’d mentioned the L-word. Love seemed to be tangled up between them and whatever they were to each other now. It was easier to compartmentalize before they’d had sex. Before he’d been sleeping over. Before he’d made her pasta and brought anniversary wine.
