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IpropositionedBarrett.
Oh my gosh!
I lay my head down on my desk. This is why you don’t have affairs with people at work, I scolded myself.
It was Tuesday. I usually saw Barrett on Tuesdays. Sometimes we even went out for lunch. But this Tuesday was different because on Saturday, I tried to get him into my bed, which is where he arguably wanted to be. However, it’s a no go for me because it won’t end well and then I’ll be worse off than I am now.
If I’m hiding after a kiss, an earth-shaking, soul-destroying, ruin-me-forever-for-other-men kind of kiss, I’d have to quit my job after getting naked with him. If I survived it. I’d never wanted anything in my life the way I wanted him.
I bumped my forehead lightly against the table and groaned when a knock sounded at the door. I lifted my head just as Barrett opened the door.
“Are you all right?” he rumbled. “I thought I heard you groan.”
“Ohhh...” I did groan then and put my head back down.
He closed the door and walked over to me quickly, gently placing his big hand on the back of my head.
“Is it your head? Are you in pain?”
“I kissed you on Saturday,” I mumbled.
I could feel him stiffen up. I couldn’t look at him. He dropped his hand and rubbed my shoulder lightly then walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down.
“Well, you can’t stay there forever and I’m not leaving until we sort this out,” he rumbled pleasantly.
I lifted my head.
“Are you enjoying this?”
He thought for a moment. “A bit, yeah.”
“Why?”
“I find you enthralling.”
I snorted. He stood up.
“C’mon, we’re going for lunch. No dogs this time. We’re going to sit inside like civilized people.”
“Now?”
I wanted to freshen up my makeup, splash some water on my burning cheeks, pace a bit, worry over what I would say, run through all the possible scenarios in my head.
“Yes, now. It’ll cut down your worrying time by one hundred percent.”
I looked at him, startled. I narrowed my eyes. “You are entirely too smart.”
He nodded, stood, and held open the door. “I have my moments. Let’s go.”
There was no avoiding this, better to get it over with. I stood up, grabbed my purse, and followed him out the door.
He drove us to The Royal Coachman for fish and chips. I guessed we were going to be taking a longer lunch. Sitting across the table from him, I could not help the buzz of pleasure I got just being near him, hearing his voice, and having his attention laser-focused on me. I did not want to lose this, and if we became involved, I would.
“I can’t lose this.” I pointed back and forth between the two of us.
“Who’s to say that you would?”
“I’m not good at relationships.”
