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“No,” Boone said.
“Yes,” Wes said.
“Was it you?” Eleanor said to Wes.
He gave her a look, and she giggled as Chase said, “Obviously, it was Boone.”
“Hey, why am I the immediate suspect? Maybe it was Grayson,” Boone said.
“You’re lucky Cooper didn’t fire you for banging that cougar on the boardroom table,” Wes said.
“Wait, was it like a cougar, cougar, or an older woman, cougar?” Eleanor said.
“Both,” Boone said.
“Right. Anyway, I could sit in the staff room,” Eleanor said. “I feel like I’m a distraction.”
“You’re fine,” Wes said. “I like having you in my cubicle.”
She shifted on the small office chair Wes had rolled into his cubicle for her. “Well, is there something I could be doing? Some filing for you, maybe?”
He shook his head and pointed at the book she’d opened on her phone. “Enjoy your book and just relax, Eleanor. You deserve to relax and not worry about working.”
“Reading a book doesn’t pay rent,” she said.
“My house is fully paid for, and I’m not charging you rent to live with me, my mate,” Wes said absently. He’d already turned back to his laptop.
A little thrill went through Eleanor. “You want me to move in with you?”
“Yes,” Wes said. “I’m all in, remember? That includes living together. Unless you don’t want to?”
“Uh oh,” Boone said. “Are we about to witness your first fight?”
“No,” Eleanor said with a laugh. “I want to live with Wes.”
“At least he doesn’t sleep purr like Grayson. Fuck, how Ryan hasn’t kicked him out of her bed yet, I’ll never know,” Boone said. “He’s like a fucking tractor.”
“You’re one to talk,” Wes said. “You sleep purr too.”
“Yeah, but it’s a delicate sleep purr,” Boone said. “Some might even call it soothing.”
“Wes? Mariana is here. You ready to talk?” Cooper stuck his head into Wes’s cubicle.
“We are,” Wes said.
“Perfect. Meet us in the boardroom.”
Cooper left, and Wes stood, holding his hand out to Eleanor. She stood and muttered a curse when her pocketknife slipped out of her pocket and fell to the floor. Wes picked it up as she said, “I seriously hate these pants.”
“I like them,” Wes said, his free hand reaching around to give her ass a quick squeeze.
She grinned. The skinny jeans she wore might make her ass look amazing, but the combination of how tight they were and the barely-there pockets were annoying as hell. Nearly every time she put something in her pocket, it eventually worked its way to the top of the pocket and fell out.
“You hold onto it,” she said when Wes tried to give her the pocketknife back. “It’s just gonna fall out of my pocket again if I take it back.”
As Wes slipped the knife into his front pocket, she made an indignant scoff. “While I realize that now is not the time for a discussion on why men’s pockets are so deep when all they have is a stupid wallet to carry, just know that I’ll be bringing it up later over dinner.”
“Noted,” Wes said with a grin.
