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“Right. Yes. Okay then. So thanks for the turret tour and the dog fix. Enjoy the cookies.”
He waited until she’d opened the door, told himself to wait until she was out of it. But he didn’t.
“You’re not reading it wrong.”
She shut the door, leaned back against it. “Thank God. Okay, now it’s a two-part question. Can we agree that if the potential thing becomes a thing, my job has nothing to do with it? I love my job, Miles, and—still reading—it’s clear you love yours. This isn’t about that, and I realize it’s trickier for you, in your position, than it is for me, in mine.”
“Maybe I’d get tired of you and fire you.”
“First, Nell’s my direct supervisor, and second, and more to thepoint, you wouldn’t because you’re not made that way. I could get pissed off, file a sexual harassment claim.”
“First, I’ve got a killer lawyer—he’s my father—and no one would believe you anyway. Second, and more to the point, you wouldn’t because you’re not made that way. I can read people, too.”
“No, I wouldn’t. We could spell it all out, put it in writing. How we entered into this thing due to mutual attraction and interest without pressure or coercion from either side. Your father could draw it up. Howl could witness it.”
“It’s good you added that so I know you’re bullshitting. And the thing’s called sex, Morgan. If we think we’re going to have it, we should be able to say it.”
“If the sex doesn’t work out, I still promise not to quit, or hold it against you.”
“I can promise not to fire you, or hold it against you. Even though if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be your fault. I’m good at it.”
“Now you’re bullshitting, but the sad fact is, I’m way out of practice—which accounts for a lot of the awkwardness of this conversation. You should initially grade on a curve.”
He didn’t know what to make of her, or this, but knew the moment mattered.
“Are you used to men grading you in bed?”
“The memory dims. It’s been a few years.”
“Did you say ‘years’?”
Her shoulders hunched; her hands slid into the pockets of her tiny shorts. “Don’t rub it in.”
He held up a finger, then walked to a table to set down the container of cookies. “I’m going to prolong this ridiculous conversation, which I find strangely arousing, and ask why. I understand the last year, but you said ‘a few.’”
“I was busy and focused on other things.”
“I keep busy and focused, and still.”
“I worked two jobs.” When he said nothing, she sighed, shrugged. “All right, on top of that—and I know this is going to feed your ego—there wasn’t anybody who flipped the switch so I wanted to make thetime to be with them. Until now. It’ll be fine if this turns out to be a one-off, or short-term, or—”
“I wish you’d shut up now.”
“I’d be really happy to shut up now. I should go.” She opened the door. Shut it again. Then moved straight to him, into him, fixed her mouth on his.
For someone who claimed to be out of practice, she had skills.
Dimly, he heard the dog’s tail thumping on the floor as Morgan wrapped around him. He couldn’t claim he found it easy, but he let her take the lead. This time.
Drawing him in, sparking fire in his blood. Then easing back again.
“I have something more to say.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he wondered. “I think I’d’ve noticed.”
“I think, in this case, we could dispense with the whole ritual of dating. Like drinks, dinner, movies, live theater, salsa dancing. Whatever’s your usual pattern.”
“I don’t have a pattern.”
