Page 46 of Face Off With Fate

Monroe rolled his eyes, a touch of pink at the tips of his ears and followed behind me, eating up the distance faster than I could create it. “I swear you don’t think about the things that come out of your mouth.”

I think about things I want to come in my mouth…

“If you’re done complaining about the length of my clothes, then maybe we can acknowledge the fact that it’s—” He looked at his watch, which was unnecessary. I knew how early I was. “Three-thirty, and you’re not supposed to be here until⁠—”

“Four,” I cut him off with the wave of my hand.

And I wanted to see him.

I shoved the thought out. Aged wide plank floors creaking as I moved from his entry to his living room without being invited. The chismosa in me couldn’t be contained. This might be the first and last time he allowed me in.

I was taking full advantage of it.

Soft light filtered in through the two sets of French doors along the back wall. The paneled glass offered a glimpse of climbing vines on a trellis. I stepped closer, needing to know if it was as secret-garden-esque up close as it appeared from afar.

Wow.

The sweet, almost honey and vanilla, scent of jasmine filtered through the closed doors. Little white, star-shaped flowers dotted the vines covering every part of the patio, creating a canopy of green and white. Zig-zagged across were tiny lights that must have been gorgeous when lit. Terracotta pots filled with colorful flowers surrounded each post.

It was impossible to fight off my smile when I spotted a massive swing set and pale-pink playhouse in the middle of the trimmed lawn. A bright-pink bike with matching tassels was parked by the outdoor sofa, and a small helmet, with a massive tiara attached, lay on the cushion next to a butterfly net. There was evidence of Goldie all over. Images of Monroe running around trying to catch monarchs at his daughter’s request filled my head.

My cheeks hurt from how wide my smile was.

“You did something nice for me.”

I jumped when his breath skimmed my shoulder. I’d gotten so lost in imagining daily life in the Monroe household that I hadn’t heard him close the distance between us.

All the distance between us.

My shoulder bumped his chest when I tried to turn. He didn’t move, just looked down at me expectantly.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t do that,” I lied, trying not to let him know my heart rate was spiking thanks to him lording over me.

He makes me nervous because he’s essentially my boss, and I want to do a good job. Not because he’s wildly attractive and I’m tempted to see if I can wrap my two hands around his biceps…

“Liar.” His warm chest pressed against my folded forearms. “The article…you told them what I said to you in the hall.”

I shrugged, nerves rising higher the longer he stared. “All I did was give them a quote from you.”

“That’s all?”

Shit. I cleared my throat. “Yup, that’s it. I am not responsible for anything else...”

He rolled his eyes, matching my stance. “You know nothing about the anonymous source close to coach Monroe.” He used air quotes. “Who leaked my donations?”

“Wow. Look how lucky we are that we finally get a leak that’s positive for you. Crazy someone knew about you giving money to the Women’s Sports Foundation and the Women’s College team.” I smirked. “And that title, Josh Monroe—Youngest Coach to Win the Cup—and Just Getting Started. Catchy, right?”

He shook his head, but I swore there was that ghost of a smirk again.

“Funny, because I’m pretty sure you were the only one I told about that after the ladies all left…” he said, letting the implication hang between us. Adding to the already growing tension.

I shook my head, a tinge of pain radiating from where I bit my lip. “I don’t think you did. I don’t remember you sharing that with me. So it can’t have been me.” I shrugged, now positive he was smirking. My stomach looped down low at how good he looked when he did it. I stepped back, needing some room to breathe. “Anyway, it’s a good thing I got here early. Look at how you’re dressed.”

“I wasn’t going to wear this.”

“Well, what are you going to wear? Because I’ve never seen you in anything remotely close to nice. It’s always athletic clothes with hats pulled down to your chin⁠—”

“I wear suits.”