Page 28 of That First Date
“Listen Marc,” I cut through whatever he’s thinking. “I know you’re nervous about all of this. I also know I’m not your first choice here. But after really thinking about it more, I want to help you. After all, you’re going to basically be family in the fall.”
He barely gets the word out when whiskey sprays out of his mouth. “Family?”
“Duh,” I snort. “Peyton and Thomas are getting married. She’s like a sister to me.”
“That doesn’t make us remotely close to being family, Princess.”
That nickname sends a cold chill up my spine, but also sends heat to my core. The last time I heard that word out of his mouth was when we were doing very inappropriate things in a very inappropriate supply closet in December.
“Tell me what you're worried about,” I say, trying to not think dirty thoughts about Marc freakin’ Ford.
“How can we make this work? Like how we will show affection?”
“There’re plenty of ways to show affection that don’t involve making out in front of your boss, Marcus.”
“I understand that, Avery. I’m just worried we won’t sell this.”
Inside, I am screaming with nerves that I am about to do this. However, my history tells me in my head that I am immune to charm and what I am about to ask Marc to do, won’t change that. Besides, he’s just my grumpy-gills boss.
“Okay, pudding.” I sit up straighter in the seat. “Show me right here, right now, how you would sell it if Bill was sitting right across the table from us.”
“Avery—”
“Show me,” I cut him off. “How would we prove this love story to them?”
Marc silently stares into my eyes from beside me. It only takes seconds before I watch his eyes darken. With hunger? I’m not sure what just shifted in those seconds, but my entire body lights up from his stare. What the fuck was that?
The corner of his lip turns up just the slightest, as I feel his body shift beside me. He scoots just an inch closer to me, causing our thighs to touch. The same, weird electric current that I felt when I placed my hand on his earlier, courses through my entire body at his contact. Then he delicately places his arm around the back of the booth, his hand grazing my exposed shoulder and I can’t help but get tipsy off of his masculine scent taking over my space.
“This is how I would start,” he says. “We would sit close together as if we can’t get enough of being close to each other.”
I simply hum in approval while air remains trapped in my lungs.
My gaze moves to where his hand sits on my shoulder as he brushes his pointer finger in soft circles. His eyes remain across the table as if there really was someone sitting across from us that he should be engaging in conversation with.
At that moment, the waiter comes over to ask us if we would like anything for dessert. I’m about to say no, when Marc cuts in.
“We’ll take a chocolate mousse cheesecake with two spoons, please.”
“Marc, I’m so stuffed.” My hand finds my stomach. “I am going to pop out of this dress if I eat anything else.”
“I’m not sure if I told you tonight or not.” He smiles down at me, ignoring my protest and the fact that I truly can’t eat another bite of food. “This dress looks absolutely stunning on you, baby.”
The way he saysbabymakes wetness pool between my legs.
But it dawns on me, he’s showing me what we would be like with his boss.
“Thanks, babe.”
His smile grows wider when his hand that was around the back of the booth comes in front of us as he places it on my upper thigh. There’s no doubt that he can feel the goosebumps on my bare skin under his touch. They happen almost instantly as his hand makes contact.
Slowly he leans into my ear, his mild scruff on his chin brushing against my jaw line.
“But it will look better on our bedroom floor when we get home.”
“Marc.” I suck in a breath. “What—”
His lips remain by my ear. I can feel the heat of his breath. He shifts his body slightly while his opposite hand cups my jaw line. My heart is beating so fast, I’m willing to bet he can hear it. My eyes flutter closed at the touch. My goosebump-covered body is now erupting in a wildfire of flames.