Always Only You by Chloe Liese (z-lib.org).epub

“A guy like me?” A wry half smile tugs at his mouth. “What’s that mean?”
My high is slowly dissipating. I grope frantically on the counter for my root
beer gummies and rip open a new bag. Tugging one between my teeth until it
snaps, I chew and buy myself a minute. My unfiltered brain still wins out. “You
know women drool over you.”
He stands, then clears our empty plates and bowls to the sink. “You’re not
answering the question.”
I watch him run water in the double sink and add a splash of soap. The jerk is
going to wash my dishes and prove the very point I’m about to make. “Dammit,
Bergman, you’re the total package. You’re thoughtful, talented, handsome, and a
true gentleman. You’re a prince of a man. Okay?”
Ren stops washing for a moment. Then he starts scrubbing again. I watch
him rinse the plates and prop them on the rack to dry without saying a word.
Finally, he turns and leans his hip against the counter, arms folded across his
broad chest. “Do you think that? Or are you saying what you assume other
people think?”
Of course, I think that. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t?
I tear another gummy with my teeth. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” His jaw is set, those pale cat eyes locked with mine intensely.
Dread washes over me. God, I have to be horrifying him. Here I am, half
baked. Barely clothed. And so far past the line of professional behavior.
“Ren, I—” I swallow nervously. “I’m sorry. That was an inappropriate
direction I took us. I’m unfiltered to begin with but the cannabis doesn’t help.
Please ignore everything I said.”
Ren walks toward me, stopping at the counter where the gummies sit.
Holding my eyes, he plucks one from the bag, sets it between his teeth, and tugs
until it breaks clean in half. My eyes shift to his mouth.
Joseph in a Juniper Tree. Watching Ren tear a root beer gummy like a lion
ripping open his prey just turned my knees to jelly. Thankfully, I’m already
sitting. Well, bouncing, on the exercise ball. I’m one of those people who needs
to be in perpetual motion.
“You still haven’t answered me,” he says, unsticking his jaw with a loud
pop. “Wow, these are chewy. And for the record, we’re not at work. It’s not
inappropriate at all.”
I grab a fistful of gummies and shove them in my mouth. Hopefully, I’ll
choke and black out so we can forget about this mortifying corner I’ve backed us
into.
“Oh, it’s inappropriate,” I say around my grotesque mouthful. “You’re a
player, I’m your social media manager, no matter where we are. I’m sitting here