Page 95 of Reckless Devotion

“Then I’ll come, but I have nothing to wear that is fancy enough for ashticklike this.” She crosses her arms and looks thunderous.

“I’ll handle that.” I cast my hand through the air as if to waft that problem away. Like she thought I was some asshole who would ever make her spend her own money. I have enough for the both of us. “But what the hell is with you today? You’ve been a downright storm cloud since you got here. If this is about what Mr. Clay—”

“No! God, no. I just…” She groans, slamming her hands over her face so hard it must hurt and tilting back in her seat again. “I’m two days late, and no, I’m not pregnant, I’m just overdue and cranky.”

Ah, this is beginning to make more sense.

“If you come over here, I can help start it for you.” I lean back in my chair—the soft leather groaning—and watch as her stunned face appears from behind her hands. My dick twitches in my pants, running down a neat little track to an image of what that might entail.

A crack forms in her hard veneer, only for a brief moment, but I spot it. The quiver of her lip and the glint in her eye, both things fighting to free her from her grizzly demeanor. “You are awful.”

“Thank you.” I offer her a knowing grin, noting the way her thighs squeeze together. “The offer is there if you need it.”

“I’m not a ketchup bottle that needs a smack on the bottom,thanks.”

That’s an…interesting analogy. Little Miss Stubborn isn’t in the mood to play today. Or at least, she’s not willing to admit it if she is. I pull my phone out of my pocket and make a note on today’s date in my schedule.

“What are you doing?”

“Marking my calendar so I know what time of the month I need to throw chocolate through the bars of your cage.”

She snorts in a way that is admirably unladylike, and my lips twitch. Instead of addressing the copper flush appearing on her cheeks, I busy myself with collecting the forgotten papers and shuffling them back into a neat pile. Except, when I reach for the stapler, it’s nowhere to be seen.

Pens. My phone. A lamp. The glossy invitation and a blank-screened tablet. Everythingexceptthe item I’m looking for. And what’s more, this isn’t the first time this has happened. Perhaps I’m the one with early onset dementia and this is the first sign. Oh, and also falling for the crazy-hot chick with pink hair who hacked me and loves to make my life difficult. That has to be a sign that my brain matter is shrinking.

“Have you seen my stapler?” I point stupidly at the last place I saw it.

She reluctantly drags her attention away from her nails. “Hmm?”

“My stapler. It was just there and now it’s not.”

“How am I supposed to know?” She sighs, rising from her seat with a bored air. “Since we’re apparently not doing any work, I’m going home to rot on the couch in peace.”

She punches her arm through her tote bag straps, the sound of metal clacking together reaching from its depths.

“Wait, what are your plans tonight?” I twist the corner of another stick of papers momentarily, thinking that I might have buried it by accident. “I thought you could stay with me, as Sunny isn’t at home for a couple of nights.”

We haven’t slept in the same bed since the Hamptons, owing to Pepper’s rule about not letting this thing between us invade Sunny’s safe space. As much as I’d love to fall into bed beside her after a hard day’s work, I respect her boundaries, even if I do miss waking up wrapped around her soft skin.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea on account of the storm brewing here.” She swirls her finger around the general area of her lower abdomen.

I life one eyebrow. “You think I give a shit about a little blood, Peppercorn?”

She flushes from her pearlescent pink hairline where the beginnings of a dark root creep in, all the way to the hem of her white T-shirt.

“What if it gets on your sheets?”

“Then they’ll be washed.” I fold my hands calmly in my lap and wait for her next excuse.

“And what if it gets onyou?”

“Showers exist.”

She nibbles the inside of her lip for a moment. “I’ll be over at seven.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” I correct softly as she turns and strides away from me in a seductive swish of curvy hips.

I sigh and pitch upright, covering the space to catch up with Pepper in just enough time that I can reach around her and open the door for her.