she’d suffer through the usual tourist things if he wanted to. Not the response he’d been hoping for.
“Well, there’s all sorts of antiquing here. And I know you like beading, right?” He gestured to a lovely piece that peeked out between the collar of her blouse and dripped down into her cleavage. She always wore something like that, made by her own hand. He only caught glimpses because she buttoned her blouses over most of it, leaving a quiet hint of color and style. Passion, he thought, carefully tucked away. “Bethany said there were some craft stores nearby, but she didn’t know if they were any good.”
Megan frowned slightly. “She’s the owner here. She ought to know that type of stuff.”
“Um, right. So I thought we could go there, see if anything struck your fancy. Wander through—”
“Oh! You mean check out the local color. Figure out what the tone of the town is. See how we can capitalize on—”
“Er, no.” He took a deep breath. “Megan, brace yourself.”
She blinked and nodded at him, her expression very serious.
“We’re taking tonight off.”
“What?”
Wow, that cut. Her look of dumbfounded shock was rather alarming. Was he really such a workaholic? He didn’t have to think hard for the answer. He supposed he was. And as his assistant, she was too.
“We work too much,” he said firmly. “That’s not healthy.”
“But—”
“And so we’re going to do something fun. Something you enjoy. So pick it and we’ll go do it.”
She pursed her lips and studied him. He almost checked his clothing to make sure he was fully dressed. But then she tilted her head. “But what do you like doing? If I get to go to a beading store, then you get something fun, too.”
He frowned. “I like to work out.”
“No, you don’t,” she shot back. “I remember when your father had his coronary bypass. You didn’t start working out until then because you’re just terrified of ending up like your father. You won’t, by the way.”
He winced. She was right. He worked out to keep fit, not because he enjoyed it. “There’s nothing wrong with staying healthy.”
Her lips quirked into a…oh my, an appreciative female smile. “By all means, stay healthy. I enjoy the eye candy every day I come to work. But that’s not exactly fun. Not a craft store kind of fun.”
He didn’t know how to respond. The idea that she thought he was eye candy completely short-circuited his brain.
“Oh hell,” she said, as her skin flushed pink. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I shouldn’t have said—”
“No, no! God, don’t stop! My ego loves it.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s just what you need. More ego .”
He shrugged, feeling more awkward than he’d ever been as a teen. Sure, he knew he was smart but that was a hell of a lot different than eye candy .
Her laughter shifted into a low, musical chuckle that seemed to drop into his spine and reverberate straight into a very unprofessional part of his anatomy. What he wouldn’t give to be lip to lip with her now, capturing her laughter with his mouth while—lower down—he embedded himself deep inside her. Hell. She was his assistant, for God’s sake, and he was in trouble.
“So, did you want to go to the craft store?”
She rocked back on her heels, her eyes dancing. “Where are we going to go that’s fun for you?”
He grimaced, unwilling to admit the truth of his real hobby. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I wasn’t until I realized you’re hiding something.” She leaned forward, her eyes waggling. “Come on, Wyatt, what is it going to be? Porn shop? Strip club?”
“I liked it better when you called me ‘sir.’”
“Too bad, so sad. You’re Wyatt now—by your own insistence, I might add.”
God, he’d been an idiot. There had been flashes of camaraderie between them before. Hundreds of instances where she floated a tease, and he poked right back at her. But now for the first time, she was being openly
“Well, there’s all sorts of antiquing here. And I know you like beading, right?” He gestured to a lovely piece that peeked out between the collar of her blouse and dripped down into her cleavage. She always wore something like that, made by her own hand. He only caught glimpses because she buttoned her blouses over most of it, leaving a quiet hint of color and style. Passion, he thought, carefully tucked away. “Bethany said there were some craft stores nearby, but she didn’t know if they were any good.”
Megan frowned slightly. “She’s the owner here. She ought to know that type of stuff.”
“Um, right. So I thought we could go there, see if anything struck your fancy. Wander through—”
“Oh! You mean check out the local color. Figure out what the tone of the town is. See how we can capitalize on—”
“Er, no.” He took a deep breath. “Megan, brace yourself.”
She blinked and nodded at him, her expression very serious.
“We’re taking tonight off.”
“What?”
Wow, that cut. Her look of dumbfounded shock was rather alarming. Was he really such a workaholic? He didn’t have to think hard for the answer. He supposed he was. And as his assistant, she was too.
“We work too much,” he said firmly. “That’s not healthy.”
“But—”
“And so we’re going to do something fun. Something you enjoy. So pick it and we’ll go do it.”
She pursed her lips and studied him. He almost checked his clothing to make sure he was fully dressed. But then she tilted her head. “But what do you like doing? If I get to go to a beading store, then you get something fun, too.”
He frowned. “I like to work out.”
“No, you don’t,” she shot back. “I remember when your father had his coronary bypass. You didn’t start working out until then because you’re just terrified of ending up like your father. You won’t, by the way.”
He winced. She was right. He worked out to keep fit, not because he enjoyed it. “There’s nothing wrong with staying healthy.”
Her lips quirked into a…oh my, an appreciative female smile. “By all means, stay healthy. I enjoy the eye candy every day I come to work. But that’s not exactly fun. Not a craft store kind of fun.”
He didn’t know how to respond. The idea that she thought he was eye candy completely short-circuited his brain.
“Oh hell,” she said, as her skin flushed pink. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I shouldn’t have said—”
“No, no! God, don’t stop! My ego loves it.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s just what you need. More ego .”
He shrugged, feeling more awkward than he’d ever been as a teen. Sure, he knew he was smart but that was a hell of a lot different than eye candy .
Her laughter shifted into a low, musical chuckle that seemed to drop into his spine and reverberate straight into a very unprofessional part of his anatomy. What he wouldn’t give to be lip to lip with her now, capturing her laughter with his mouth while—lower down—he embedded himself deep inside her. Hell. She was his assistant, for God’s sake, and he was in trouble.
“So, did you want to go to the craft store?”
She rocked back on her heels, her eyes dancing. “Where are we going to go that’s fun for you?”
He grimaced, unwilling to admit the truth of his real hobby. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I wasn’t until I realized you’re hiding something.” She leaned forward, her eyes waggling. “Come on, Wyatt, what is it going to be? Porn shop? Strip club?”
“I liked it better when you called me ‘sir.’”
“Too bad, so sad. You’re Wyatt now—by your own insistence, I might add.”
God, he’d been an idiot. There had been flashes of camaraderie between them before. Hundreds of instances where she floated a tease, and he poked right back at her. But now for the first time, she was being openly
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