“You were right, Dec,” Carmine declares, staring at Elle with awe. “She really does get my flare.”
“You make it easy, Carmine.” Elle links her arm through his, walking him toward the cars. “The way you talk about your art, with so much passion and conviction, reminds me of Connor, my best friend.”
“Is that so?” Carmine coos. “What art does Connor practice?”
“Sculptures, mainly environmental.” Elle pulls out her phone and shows us a gallery of sculptures combining driftwood and scrap metal. Every few photos depict a large black man in the midst of crafting the impressive pieces.
“I may have to take a look at those,” Carmine observes, lowering his John Elton style sunglasses to get a better look.
“Con would like that very much,” Elle exclaims with glee.
“Elle, it was more a pleasure than I can put into words.” Carmine clasps her hand and plants a kiss on its back. “Dec, you didn’t screw up. Good for you.”
“Geez, Carmine, thanks,” I reply with a chuckle, clapping his back. “We’ll be in touch when we have the final blueprints.”
When we’re back in the car, I start the engine, waiting for Elle to buckle up, but she just sits there with a broad smile practically bouncing in her seat, so I wait with an amused glare.
“That was amazing!” she finally lets out with a squeal, throwing her arms around my neck, her patisserie scent hitting me full force, and before I can think better of it, I wrap my arms around her to return the hug.
“You are amazing.” I laugh along with her, reluctant to let go but knowing I must. “Come on, we have a lot of work to do if we want to have a normal Christmas vacation.”
“Thank you, Dec.” Her eyes twinkle when she leans back in her seat and fastens her seatbelt and grabbing my hand before completing her sentence. “For taking a chance on me.”
“Always.” I smile at her, wishing I could take another.
5
Eloise
Another late night at the office with Declan.
These hours with him have been taking their toll on my double-A battery stock, but it’s almost over. Less than two weeks, and it’s Christmas.
Today is particularly trying since we’re tackling architecture meets security, which means Dec and I are the only ones here. And boy is my spank bank of Declan Moretti fantasies having a field day out of this scenario.
Not that I would ever act on any of them, but the fine line between professional and personal is constantly blurring with every flirty glance and private joke Dec and I share. The intimacy of our relationship grows the longer we spend time together.
Despite our conscious efforts to never touch, the sexual tension between us is off the charts, and there’s no telling how much longer we’ll be able to hold back.
Going over the final blueprints, I fine comb the details in hopes of calling it a night soon, as it’s getting rather late.
“Dec, I had a thought,” I call out. Since my new status came with a private office, Dec had the one next to his vacated to make communicating easier as we work. It isn’t a large office, but I managed to squeeze in two vintage dark gray armchairs in a corner with a small round wooden coffee table that Connor washed gray to match, finishing the look with a colorful woven rug. All finds from a grand tour with Carmine through a lesser-known flea market in the city.
“Yep?” Declan pops his head in, eyes tired and hair messy from running his fingers through it too many times.
Aaaaand, his sexy just leveled up. Again.
“About the location of the entrance points.” I indicate for him to come and look at what I am working on.
Declan gazes over my shoulder, examining the blueprint. He’s so close the heat emanating off his body causes my cheeks to flush, his breath gently swaying the strands that fell out of my impromptu bun.
“So, um, this door…um, should be moved to the west side of the building, and…” I stop my explanation when he chuckles softly, my face further heating up. “What?”
“Nothing. Sorry. Proceed,” Declan prompts, and I try to shake off the embarrassment.
“So, the door. From this entrance point, we can offer maximum privacy and…” I trail off when I realize Declan has drifted so close to me, his chest is now pressed against my back. “Are you sniffing me?” I whisper rather loudly, possibly in dread, because Declan freezes for a few seconds before inching away, leaving me flustered and kind of sorry I didn’t shut my trap.
Why can’t I be one of those girls who just go with the flow when their hot boss presses his hard body against them and takes a whiff?
I turn to face him, my cheeks aflame, waiting for him to break the silence.
Declan clears his throat. “I’m sorry.” He’s looking pretty much anywhere but at me. “You smell like a patisserie, and I lost focus for a second.”
“Oh!” I perk up, happy to have a safe topic to veer toward. “That’s because I’ve been making jelly donuts every evening for weeks. I’ve been experimenting with new fillings. You want to try the flavor of the day?”
“You bake?” He looks at me with surprise evident in his eyes.
“Yes, well, fry in this particular instance,” I answer, trying to keep my cool and steer the atmosphere back to friendly professionalism. “Which is probably why the scent is so strong.”
“What’s the flavor of the day?”
“Coconut dark chocolate.” I circle my desk to pull the airtight container out of the bottom drawer, ignoring Declan clearing his throat again when I bend over. “I’ve been working on a special holiday version.”
“Do tell.” Declan smiles as he approaches me and picks a powdered donut out of the container.
“You’ll have to wait for the office Christmas party like everyone else for that one,” I declare, and Declan chuckles before taking a bite out of the puffy pastry in his hand.
“Oh, my God.” His brown eyes grow wide, and a groan leaves his lips with every bite. I have to hold back a moan every time that sound of unadulterated pleasure is released into the world while trying not to imagine how much more profound and sweeter it would be if he were feasting on me.
“Want another?” I offer, slightly out of breath. Declan looks down at the box in my hand in thought, licking powdered sugar from his lips.
Panties ruined.
His eyes shoot up to my face, eyebrows arched high as he stares at me in shock.
“I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” Declan slowly nods, and my face is on fire, rapidly getting hotter by the second.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” he suggests to my great relief.
“Yes,” I agree, a bit too eagerly. “We’re overworked, and things got a bit weird…”
I let the sentence fade and busy myself closing the container and placing it back in the drawer. When I turn around, I’m met with a crisp white shirt stretched over solid pecks.
Looking up, I gasp at the intensity in Declan’s eyes, his jaw locked in the way I’ve come to recognize means he’s grappling with a difficult decision.
“What happens if I kiss you, Eloise?” he finally asks.