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Fire in You (Wait for You #6) Page 69
Author: J. Lynn, Jennifer L. Armentrout

I was thinking I should probably clarify that.

Brock stopped in my office Monday morning, one hand holding his phone to his ear and the other holding a latte for me. He winked and then walked back out. Of course, my face started flaming the moment I saw him.

He’d put the other bookcase together and then spent the rest of the day watching a mini-marathon of Will Ferrell movies with me. We hadn’t talk about that night or what happened to me anymore. We’d ordered a pizza and then he’d left around eight. His goodbye kiss made me wish it were a hello kiss.

After he blew my mind yesterday afternoon, he hadn’t let me return the favor. He’d rolled off me, found my pants, grinned like a cat in a shop full of canaries while he helped me pull them back on, and then got back to work on the bookcase. I wanted to return the favor, but because I was an idiot, I hadn’t been able to work up the nerve.

With Ben, I hadn’t been the one to initiate any action between us, and since he had been my only relationship, that meant I’d never actively seduced anyone.

I couldn’t even picture myself doing it.

But I wanted to.

Around ten that morning, I gathered up a stack of reports and headed for the conference room for our Monday meeting. Cradling the papers to my chest, I stepped out of my office just as Brock came out of his. I waited, feeling as nervous as I would have all those years ago.

His lips curled into a smile as he approached me. “Love the skirt,” he said in a low voice as he leaned in, speaking into my left ear. “Shows off your amazing ass.”

My eyes widened as I glanced around. The cubicle walls were too high to see over, but I didn’t think anyone overheard him. I still tripped over my own feet, though.

Brock chuckled as he folded his hand around my forearm, steadying me. Shaking my head, I started to tell him to stop looking at my ass while I committed this gray skirt to memory so I could wear it again or find more like it, but just then Paul stepped out from behind one of the cubicles.

His light blue eyes flickered from Brock to the hand curled around my arm. Something tightened in his expression, but it smoothed over so quickly that I wasn’t even sure I noticed it.

Paul nodded in my direction before turning his attention to Brock. “I got a rundown from the trainers in Philly on the guys we sent up there.”

Letting go of my arm, Brock took the paper from him. “Thanks, man.” He fell in step beside me as we continued to the office. “We’re going to check in on them when we’re there this week.”

“Sounds good.” I glanced over at Paul, who was walking a few steps behind me, to my right. “What’s the game plan with them?”

“If your father likes the way they’re turning out, he’ll keep them on up there,” Brock explained. “If not, they’ll be sent back down here for more training.”

I nodded as we rounded the line of desks. Several staff members were waiting outside the door and were chatting. I felt Brock’s hand on my elbow. I glanced up at him questioningly and his thick lashes lifted, shooting a pointed look in Paul’s direction. The other man was staring down at me, and I realized he must’ve spoken.

“I’m sorry,” I said politely, surprised I hadn’t heard him direct anything to me since when he spoke to Brock I could hear him. Had he lowered his voice? No, I told myself. I wasn’t even sure he knew I had hearing problems, and if he had, that would be a micro-dick move. “I didn’t hear you.”

Paul’s expression was stoic as he repeated, “Do you have the new membership reports?”

I frowned slightly, wondering why he was asking for that. “Yes. Is there a reason you need to see them?”

Brock had stepped ahead, already entering the conference room, and Paul stopped as the rest of the staff followed him in. “Do I need a reason to see them?”

I started to point out that I was well within my authority to question whatever the hell I wanted, but the statement died on the tip of my tongue. I took a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why you would need to see them as that is not your department.”

“Actually, it sort of is.” Paul folded his arms as he stared down his long, aquiline nose at me. “Chase Byers, one of the guys who works the front desk, wants to transfer to training, so I need to evaluate his performance and make sure he’s earned the transfer.” He paused, features sharp. “I’m pretty sure Brock mentioned this to you?”

I opened my mouth as I glanced into the room. I was pretty sure he hadn’t.

“Jillian,” he said, touching my arm. “Did you hear me?”

My gaze swung back to his. Okay. There was no way he’d just spoken or I was totally losing my mind. “What?”

“Do you have his report?” he asked.

Hating that I could feel my cheeks burning, I looked down at the reports I held and thumbed through them until I found Chase’s weekly activity sheet. I pulled it out and handed it to him. “Sorry. Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Paul said, but sure as hell didn’t sound like he meant it.

“No problem,” I responded, irritated more with myself than him. I was his manager, and yet I was the one apologizing? What the hell?

Paul didn’t respond as he walked into the meeting. I didn’t get this guy and the problem he had with me. Frowning, I looked up and met Brock’s stare. His brows were raised. He was waiting for me and I was just out here standing around, staring at the floor.

Lovely.

Sighing, I shoved Paul’s attitude aside and walked into the conference room, closing the door behind me as I told myself that next time I was going to put Paul in his place.

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