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A hot, rough voice in her ear. “Penny for your thoughts?”
She choked.
His hand went to her back—and it needed to be noted that because of her very sexy and very fabric-limited dress—his hand was on thebareskin of her back.
And his palm, his fingers were hot and a little rough and—
She’d decided that those two adjectives were her favorites.
“Easy now, baby,” he murmured.
She turned and glared up at him. “I’m not your baby,” she hissed. “And get your fucking hand off my back.”
Jeremy’s brows lifted, but he removed his hand, used it to pick up his glass.
Her gaze slid up, and Mrs. Jacobs nodded approvingly, as if to say,Don’t let him fuck up your plans.
Teresa wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
Evenifhe could fill out a tux.
Now Mrs. Jacobs smiled, as though she could hear that thought, too, and though ESP probably wasn’t on the list of Mrs. J’s talents, based on their interactions so far, Teresa knew her face showed a lot.
Too much.
Damned open book.
She really needed to work on that.
Mrs. Jacobs lifted her brows, tilted her head toward Jeremy, as though saying,Why not? He’s cute.
Teresa shookherhead.He’s trouble.
Mrs. Jacobs grinned, and T could almost hear her thinking,Trouble of the best kind.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening.
“You never told me that you wanted to start your own business.”
She jerked, so engrossed in her nonverbal conversation with Mrs. Jacobs that she hadn’t realized Jeremy had leaned close again.
This time she managed to temper her reaction.
No more shivers on her watch, baby!
Just that affable, open book, sitting atop a closed one.
One that Jer wouldn’t be allowed to dig out.
Mrs. Jacobs tilted her head in the other direction, as though she were telling Teresa it was her choice. Which it was. Of course, it was.
Though it being her choice, it would be nice if her body got with the program.
“You just going to ignore me all night?”
She took another sip of wine. “That was my plan.”
