The Keeping Score Box Set

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The Keeping Score Box Set Page 81

by Tawdra Kandle


  “Uh-huh.” With that same finger, he resumed his caress of my cheekbone and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “See, as soon as I saw you, I knew that I’d have a hard time if we had to work together too . . . closely.”

  “Oh?” I swallowed, barely able to speak. “Why is that?”

  “Because I knew right away that you were trouble. Trouble for me, that is. Because the minute I laid eyes on you, I was itching to do so much more. I wanted to touch you. To see if your hair was as silky as it looked or your legs as long as I suspected or your skin as soft as it seemed. And it didn’t seem like a good idea to get tangled up with someone at my new place of business.”

  “Really?” I managed to free my hands from where they’d been trapped between us. I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing, but it felt right—and that was enough to make me go for it. I twined my arms around his neck, the shift pressing my breasts, already tingling and aching, into his granite chest. “That sounds, um, sensible of you. Do you still think the same way? That it’s a bad idea?”

  The corners of his mouth tipped up. “Now, I think maybe we could work out a compromise. Another one. A different one. One that we could both live with.”

  Before I could answer, he dropped his lips down to cover mine. The kiss was soft and questioning at first, tentative, gauging my response. When I relaxed into his body, deepening it, opening my mouth to his probing tongue, Jeff gave a low groan and pressed my hips closer to his. I could feel his interest and his desire, but he didn’t push me. Rather, I had the sense that he was . . . taking his time. Testing the waters, seeing how we fit, maybe, and discovering what could be, if we both wanted it.

  We sat that way for the space of several moments, losing ourselves in the newness and unexpected need. He didn’t move his hands to touch me anywhere else; the kiss was so simple that it shouldn’t have meant so much to me, and yet it did.

  He eased back, his eyes holding mine. “I didn’t plan that. And maybe I shouldn’t have done it. But I’m not sorry I did.”

  “I’m not sorry you did, either.” I smoothed a hand alongside his cheek, feeling the rough bristle of whisker, even this early in the day. “I don’t mind taking things slow. Maybe that’s the compromise you were talking about. We could start by getting to know each other better over football, and then see where it goes.”

  “All right.” Jeff framed my face with his hands. “That works. But I’m thinking it might be a good idea to discuss this a little more—say, over dinner? I think I might need you to explain more about the advantages of social media to me. And that’s probably best done over a really excellent steak and a bottle of Pinot Noir.”

  “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” I raised my lips to his again, intending to brush a light kiss there, but this time, he lifted me off closer, so that my face was level with his eyes. His mouth was more aggressive, more demanding, and I felt a pulse throbbing in places I didn’t even know I had one.

  So consumed were we that neither of us realized the elevator had begun moving again—that is, until it stopped smoothly and the doors opened on my floor. I heard a surprised cough that made me jerk away from Jeff and struggle to get to my feet. Beside me, Jeff stood up, too.

  “Well.” George looked from me to the defensive coordinator, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “It seems maybe you two have come to a, ah . . . meeting of the minds?”

  I felt my face burning, but Jeff didn’t miss a beat. Grasping my hand, he led me out of the elevator to stand in front of my boss.

  “Ms. Baxter took advantage of the time we had while we were stuck to enlighten me about the importance of social media in football. We managed to come up with a compromise that will let us work together . . . for our mutual benefit.” His gaze bore into me before he tore it away to focus on George. “And the benefit of the Rebels, of course.”

  “Of course,” George echoed. “I’m glad to see that this is settled. I guess we don’t need that meeting after all, Morgan.”

  “No, I think everything is worked out now.” I lifted my chin, refusing to let this unexpected development shake my confidence. “I have every confidence that Mr. Hayes will show real commitment to this project from now on.”

  “I’ll just bet he will.” George looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “Well, then, I’ll get out of your way. Carry on, both of you.”

  He turned to stalk down the corridor away from us. Jeff quirked one eyebrow at me.

  “Does six-thirty tonight work for our first meeting on this new project, Ms. Baxter?”

  I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do. “It does. Do you want me to meet you here?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. When I—how did you say it? Commit to a project? When I do that, I like to go all the way.” He winked at me. “Text me your address, and I’ll pick you up.”

  I tilted my head. “Text you . . . now that’s a novel idea. How do I know you’ll actually answer me this time?”

  He touched my cheek with the tip of his finger. “I have a feeling that my issues with technology are a thing of the past. See you tonight.”

  Watching him move away from me, a jaunty swagger to his steps, I had a feeling that he was right. With a smile I couldn’t force away, I turned toward the elevator to return to my own office . . . and then, thinking better of it, I decided that this time, I’d take the stairs.

  If you enjoyed this little taste of Morgan and Jeff, never fear! They’ll show up again in SWAY, Gideon Maynard’s book.

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  Photo by Heather Batchelder

  Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books run from YA paranormal romance through NA paranormal and contemporary romance to adult contemporary and paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats. And yeah, she rocks purple hair.

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