Page 115 of The Devil In Denim

He look past her, to where he could just see her back reflected in the dark glass of the window. Sure enough, the back of the jersey read WINTERS.

“Maggie, did you get that jersey for me?”

She nodded.

“When?”

“A few days ago. I wanted to surprise you.”

She had succeeded. He looked at the reflection again, at the Saints symbol below his name. He knew what the team was to her. Family. Part of her home. And here she was, making him part of it. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, eyes inviting. An invitation that he hoped was one she wouldn’t be extending to anybody else but him.

“Does this mean you’ve reconsidered your position?”

She nodded. “It seems it does. Even though it’s crazy.” She looked back up. “So, Mr. Winters … want to be crazy with me?”

“Yes.” He felt himself grinning. “Yes, I think I do.”

“Then maybe you should come over here and remind me why?”

He almost levitated to the desk. Stopped and looked down at her. Saint Maggie who really wasn’t. She was herself. Difficult. Devious. Cocky. Devoted. Sexy as hell.

He was a lucky guy.

“Maggie?” he said as she smiled up at him.

“Yes, Alex?”

“If that’s my jersey, don’t you think you should take it off and give it to me?”

“Whatever you say, boss.”