Book Read Free

Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2)

Page 27

by Becca Fanning


  He reached down and took his erection in hand. He wanted her. He wanted to touch her, for her to touch him. He had lied to his clan, but there was no lying to himself, not when he was so hard it was almost painful. He gave up on sleep and self-control and let himself imagine what it would be like to be with her while he touched himself.

  When he was done, he headed for the shower, kissing the idea of sleep goodbye.

  Chapter 10

  Budget meetings were boring, but this one kept Gia on her toes. Brock had come in with the start of dark circles beneath his eyes. It was the morning after the full moon, so of course he’d been at the warehouse all night. She had suggested moving the meeting to another day, or at least until the afternoon, but he’d been insistent.

  “With this Human Order business going on, we’re already late presenting the budget to City Council and to the public. I have a job to do. I can’t let people think that I’m putting my personal life ahead of my job.”

  “What about your well-being?” she said. “And what about the fact that you’re more likely to make a mistake if you’re tired?”

  “Maybe in a few months, when things have settled down a little. Right now, I have to focus on my job.”

  And they had been focusing on work. Between the City Council meetings, planning meetings for various infrastructure projects, budget meetings, meetings with the police about the Human Order, his clan obligations, and meetings about City Hall security in the wake of the attack, they had been booked solid for the last week—and for the next five weeks. Multiple meetings every day, short lunches, long hours; it was going to take a toll on both of them.

  It was already taking a toll on her. The long hours together had made it impossible to put the kiss out of her mind. She’d tried to think up some excuse to explain why she had let her control slip like that. She’d worked out how she’d apologize to him when it came up in conversation. She was trying to forget the electric ‘zing’ that had gone through her body when he had touched her like that, kissed her like he wanted her, but it was hard when she worked so close to him that she could smell his cologne.

  She wasn’t sure what it meant that he hadn’t brought it up yet. Maybe he’s waiting for me to bring it up. Maybe he’s as overwhelmed with all this work as I am. She put it out of her mind and smiled at him.

  “Good morning. There’s coffee in my office,” she had said as he came in.

  He smiled. “Thank you. My cup didn’t last the drive here.”

  “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “A nap,” he lied.

  She watched the red creep up his cheeks and wondered why he’d be blushing. “Are you ready for this meeting?”

  He had said yes, but now as they neared hour two of the meeting it was obvious that she would have to be on the ball for him. She handed him the appropriate reports, pointing out the section that this councilor or the other was talking about. She took notes and she wrote him notes reminding him of ideas they’d come up with or something he’d been planning to talk about.

  She was pretty sure no one else in the room noticed.

  After the meeting, she herded him back to his office and then steered him toward the couch. “I can’t work from here with my computer over there,” he said.

  “I am going to sort emails and return phone calls,” she said. “You are going to take a nap. We’ll review anything important that comes up over lunch, and then we have a meeting about roads this afternoon.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said.

  “Work yourself in to an early grave, probably,” she said. “And that would make my father extremely happy.”

  “I didn’t think Mr. Carosa wished me ill.”

  “He doesn’t. But he’s been eyeing a few of your subsidiary companies for years now.”

  “Ah, an opportunist then. Are you sure you’re not working for him?”

  “If I was, I wouldn’t be insisting that you nap. Go. If something urgent pops up, I’ll wake you.” On her way out she set his phone to forward all calls automatically to her office.

  Gia was packing her bag after the roads meeting and humming to herself. There was a knock at the door between the two offices, and she turned to see Brock leaning against the door frame. “I think you probably saved my job today,” he said.

  She laughed. “Hardly. Try to catch up on your sleep this weekend, okay?”

  “I was wondering if I could treat you to dinner sometime this weekend.”

  She focused on the files she was packing, deliberately keeping her back to him. “I’m going out with friends this weekend.”

  “All weekend?”

  “No.” The word came out long and drawn out.

  “I wanted to talk to you about what happened this week.”

  He had moved closer, she could sense it, the way you could feel when someone was staring at the back of your head for too long. “I could go a lifetime without talking about the shooting,” she said. “Everyone wants to talk about it and I’d rather just put the whole thing behind me.”

  “I didn’t mean the shooting.”

  “Then talk.”

  “Do you think here is a good place for this conversation?”

  She sighed. “No, you’re right. I’m just not sure what to say. I … Let me check in with my friend. She wasn’t sure if she was free tonight or tomorrow night. Once I know what’s going on with her …”

  “Sunday,” he said. “Then I have to have you home on time—and me too. Just the mayor and his assistant meeting for dinner on a Sunday evening to discuss some upcoming business. No one has any right to get up in arms about it. Besides, it’s not a huge scandal if we’re friends.”

  “No, I guess not. We’ll see about Sunday. My mom is feeling very protective lately and might want a family dinner that night.”

  “You have my number. Let me know what works for you and where I’m taking you.”

  “You know, my dad told me that if you ever offered I was to ask to go to Restaurant August and get the yellowtail cru with wine.”

  It was Brock’s turn to laugh. “One of the most expensive dishes at one of New Orleans’ most expensive restaurants. Your father is a sly man. Does he eat lunch in his office?”

  “Usually, why?”

  “I’m tempted to order it for him on Monday, minus the wine, and have them deliver it to his desk.”

  She turned to face him. “Would they deliver?”

  “Not likely, and it would take a lot of sweet talking and a very big tip to get the food to go. I could have someone from my office pick it up and deliver it, courtesy of Brock Tandell.”

  Her smile widened until her whole face lit up. “You should do it. You do that and we can go to my favorite little sushi place this weekend. I promise, the meals are under fifty bucks.”

  He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her cheek and shoved his hand in his pocket instead. “Deal. Call me about the time.”

  She went with Carol to a little club on the lake Friday night. There was a seafood grill on the patio overlooking the water and a Cajun band with a cute fiddle player, and Gia let loose and danced until her feet hurt. She took a taxi home and slept until two the next afternoon.

  She spent a few hours looking over files for work in a comfortable but ratty bathrobe and then showered and dressed for her dinner with Brock. She hesitated to call it a date, though date didn’t always have a romantic connotation. Still, with Brock, it was too easy to forget that they were colleagues, professionals who worked closely together but had to maintain that professional distance.

  He did say we could be friends, and I think I would like that.

  The sushi place wasn’t fancy, so she tossed on an airy summer dress, left her hair down, and grabbed a pair of low strappy sandals. She was down the stairs and halfway to the front door when her phone dinged in her purse. She pulled it out without stopping to find a text waiting from Brock.

  “I’m out front.”

  She
breezed out the door, down the short walk, and up to the waiting car.

  “That was fast,” he said as she slid in.

  “I was on my way out,” she said. “And there you were. You know where you’re going?”

  He reached up, hit the On-Star button, and told it where he wanted to go. The slightly digitized female voice gave him a set of directions and he smiled at her.

  “Show off,” she muttered, but she was smiling.

  The roads were busy, especially downtown where the restaurants and clubs were coming alive for the evening.

  The sushi place wasn’t too small and had a corner location giving it lots of windows. There were paneled in semi-private dining rooms along one wall, each with a traditional low table. Out in the main dining area the tables were the same as one would expect in any dining establishment with comfortable chairs. The décor was classy with traditional Asian elements, and the lighting was low, giving it a cozy yet upscale atmosphere.

  “I like it,” he said, nodding. “For two,” he said to the hostess, smiling.

  Gia felt a tremor go through her at the sight of that smile. She was starting to adore the way he smiled.

  Once they were seated, he glanced at the menu and said, “What do you recommend?”

  “Have you had sushi before?”

  “Surprisingly, I’m more of a steak and potatoes kind of guy.”

  “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Really? Every other member of my clan is a huge fish eater. Growing up in New Orleans, with the Creole dishes, the water so close, and of course, bears eat a lot of fish.” His voice dropped for the last part. “My mother was a fantastic cook, made a lot of traditional Creole, Cajun style dishes. My father loved fish.”

  “You still look like a steak and potatoes kind of guy to me. Are you willing to eat raw fish?”

  “I’d be willing to give it a try.”

  They spent a few minutes discussing the menu, and then they ordered and sat back to wait for their food.

  “How was your night out yesterday?” he asked.

  “Wonderful. We had so much fun. I used to go for lunch with her all the time because we worked across the hall from each other. I miss that.”

  “I guess eating with me in the office every day isn’t quite the same thing.”

  She felt her cheeks warm and she hoped the room was dim enough that he wouldn’t notice. “No, not quite.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She remembered doing the same thing, running her fingers through his thick black hair while he rested his head on her lap.

  “Gia, I wanted to talk to you about what happened at the warehouse before it made things awkward between us.”

  “It’s okay, I understand completely. It was a stressful day. We sort of bonded over what happened. We were close, and you were…” She stopped, took a deep breath, and kept going. “I understand if it was a mistake.”

  “I don’t regret it,” he said. “But we work together.”

  “I know,” she said. “We don’t want people talking.”

  “Exactly. Maybe later, when Marsha comes back …”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m not expecting anything because of it.”

  Brock reached across the table and touched the back of her hand. “Gia, if I had met you under different circumstances I wouldn’t hesitate to sweep you off your feet and seduce you with every trick I know.”

  “I don’t want to quit my job,” she said.

  “I’m not asking you to. But we must remain professional. Okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Thanks again for covering for me this afternoon. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Isn’t the compliment the other way?” she said.

  When he gave her a puzzled look she laughed, but she waited for the waitress to set all the plates on the table before continuing.

  “It’s ‘thank you for the great night, I was exhausted all day.’”

  He grinned. “I would have had time for a nap before work, but I got distracted.”

  “By the maid?”

  “Thinking about you.”

  This time when she blushed, she knew there was no hiding it, but she didn’t look away. “And I didn’t get any fun out of your sleepless night. I should have picked a more expensive restaurant.”

  “That’s one way to make me pay, sure.”

  “I can think of other ways,” she shot back. She looked him over and licked her lips.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Dinner is on me?”

  “That’s one way to put it.” She picked up a sushi roll with her chop sticks and popped it in her mouth.

  “Now that’s talent.”

  “I have lots of talents.”

  “Any more that involve your mouth?”

  “Yeah, bailing exhausted mayors out of trouble at long winded meetings by answering questions for them.”

  “Touché. Point for the young lady.”

  “Ooh, I like keeping score. What’s my prize if I win?”

  “Dinner at a fancier restaurant.”

  “Does it come with a fancier date?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “Ouch. Two points. I don’t think I’ll catch up. And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  It wasn’t a suit, and she hadn’t been sure he owned anything else. The jeans looked good on him, made the button-down shirt that he had on, sleeves rolled to his elbows, look casual—even though it probably cost him more than her entire outfit. He had a pair of sunglasses folded, one arm tucked in his breast pocket.

  “There is nothing wrong with the way you look,” she said. “And if you were fishing for compliments, you get the point.”

  He grinned. “Good. I need all the help I can get.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  The banter continued through the meal, which they finished quickly. He paid and they wandered outside. “Drinks?” he asked. “Or a stroll? It’s a lovely night.”

  “I really think I should get my boss home at a decent hour. He’s been really tired at work lately.”

  “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

  “Oh, just wait until I make you pay for the ‘dreaded temp’ comment.”

  “In all fairness, I only said that before I met you. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

  “Why don’t you come up for a glass of wine. I was looking over some files, and I found something that might interest you.”

  “We’re talking business now, right?”

  “Oh, there are lots of things at my place I could show you that would be of great interest to you, but I’m only showing you the ones that pertain to work.”

  “Witty and a tease,” he said. “I’m doomed.”

 

‹ Prev