“Ever?” I bark out incredulously.
“Ever. He has random hookups with random women and then never sees them again. It’s a one and done. Usually in public like at a club or something so he doesn’t have to take them home or go home with them. He doesn’t even have a regular, no strings booty call. So again, dish it.”
I shake my head. There is so much in what he just told me that I can hardly wrap my head around it. Keith mentioned his high school girlfriend. The girl I look similar to. The one who is dead if we’re going by the way he was speaking about her.
Has he not dated anyone since? Never had more than one night?
Jesus. That’s a lot to take in.
“Sorry to burst your gossip bubble, but there is nothing to dish. I’m staying in the guest room. And there is nothing going on between me and him.”
Marco deflates, looking crestfallen. “Really?”
“Truly.”
“Well, that’s shit. I was hoping he was finally sweet on someone. Keith is a flirt and a chronic tease, yes, but he’s also as loyal and good as they come. A total grizzly alpha with a heart of gold. I guess I don’t have to tell you that.” He waves his hand up and down me, and I can’t stop my frown. I don’t even know where it comes from or why it’s sitting on my face.
I’m not special to Keith.
And the sooner I stop myself from thinking I am, the better.
I’m his employee and he doesn’t date. Ever. And I’m not really interested in that anyway. I have too much going on. Too many things I have to straighten out about myself and my life before I could even entertain anything considered a romantic entanglement. We also bicker like cats and dogs. Totally incompatible.
Not to mention he and I and the worlds we live in are as different as night and day.
But still… that small flicker of disappointment is there.
One I need to get over right here and now. Liking Keith Dawson is not an option.
I clear my throat. “And the other guys? They date?”
“Well, Jasper is obviously married, and they have two daughters. The first from Jasper’s previous relationship. And Gus is engaged to Naomi Kent.” I nod. I never spent money on tabloids, and I don’t own a television because cable and streaming networks were out of my price range. But I do remember when the media exploded all over Jasper, Gus, and Jasper’s now-wife, Viola. You couldn’t go to the pharmacy without seeing them spread over every glossy magazine cover. I had also heard little snippets about Gus Diamond and Naomi Kent. I just didn’t realize they were engaged.
“And Henry?”
“He dates. Nothing ever serious or longer than a couple of weeks and nothing in a while. Henry is firm he doesn’t want what Gus and Jasper have, though he never elaborates on why. But yeah, Keith’s the odd man out with that because unlike Henry, he does want what the others have.”
I pick a little more at my muffin as Marco finishes going over everything that’s in the folder, forcing myself not to feel anything but upbeat and hopeful. I have a bunch of documents to read and sign. A tablet and a sheet of logins for our shared drive as well as a company credit card and cell phone.
Marco stands to leave, and I follow him to the door. “Don’t look so stressed, sweets. It seems like a lot, but you’ll pick it up quickly. And call me anytime. You and I are in this together now and that makes us besties.”
I reach out with my good hand and hug Marco. There is something about him that makes you feel connected. Like he truly is an instant bestie. And since we have this NDA thing going, I feel like I can trust him. As much as I can trust anyone.
I shut the door and flip the latch to lock it.
And before I can talk myself out of it, I head for the back door and the pool where Keith is still doing his laps. I think I need to get to know my new boss a little better.
11
Maia
* * *
Stepping out into the warm morning sun, I make my way over to the steps of the pool. It’s long, rectangular, and crystal-clear blue. There’s an attached hot tub off to the side, but it’s not on at the moment. Keith hasn’t slowed his motion, though I bet he saw me the last time he rolled his head for a breath of air.
I sit on the stone edge, dipping my feet into the cool water and sighing. It feels nice, but the mounting tension between us doesn’t. He does two more laps with me sitting here before he comes to a stop, shaking his hair out and running a hand over his face to remove the excess water. His toned forearms crisscross on the lip of the pool, his feet kicking out behind him as his stoic gaze hits mine in such a way I instantly have butterflies.
“Everything get settled with Marco?”
Okay, so this is how we’re going. Business.
“Yes. He gave me all the paperwork and technology goodies. I have to look through everything and sign on the dotted line.”
A sudden heavy silence descends upon us and for the life of me, I have no idea how to fill it.
He looks angry.
I’m not.
His expression makes me want to smirk.
I resist. Poorly I might add.
“How’s your arm today?”
Still sore as hell, but I say, “Much better, thank you. Are you typically such an early riser?”
He ignores my questions completely, turning to face me and giving me his undivided attention as he stands up to his full height in the shallow end. Ribbons of water playfully glide over his face, down his neck, across his shoulders, chest, and abs before they get reunited with the pool as it laps gently along his waist.
“Bet you’re wishing you could swim. It’s hot out here.”
I’ll say. The man is shredded like lettuce and tastier looking than a filet mignon. He’s the salad and the main course, and I bet whatever is hidden beneath those black trunks is most definitely the dessert. I wonder if he’s size appropriate considering he’s… “Six-three?”
“Five.”
Oh. Is there some kind of metric that that correlates—
“You’re staring at my junk through the water.”
“No, I’m not!” I squeak, my voice so high-pitched a dog off in the distance barks. “I’m just thinking about something. Not related to you of course. Or your… you know.” I glance up because I have no other choice but to hold firm (stupid pun in my head) and meet his eyes.
“Dick? Cock? Penis?”
“Right. That. I’m not thinking about that. It was just a weird coincidence that my eyes were there.”
“As you were asking how large I am? Not to mention you’re blushing the reddest I’ve seen you yet. You’re wondering about my dick size. Admit it.”
Never.
“If muscular chests and abs scare me, it’s ten times as bad for—”
“You can say it. Come on.”
Bastard. I never had a problem saying it until it became about his dick in particular.
“Dicks. Besides, don’t they always say the bigger the ego and cocky attitude, the more the man is compensating for their lack of size and virility?”
He smirks arrogantly, and I hate how easily my face gives me away. My mama used to say it was the Irish side of our blood. That’s why her face was always beet red when she drank. For me, it just translates into a built-in lie detector.