Page 6
Story: Petty AF
I took notice, but River held most of my attention, and I couldn’t hold back a chuckle when he wrinkled his nose.
“Not to your standards?” I asked.
“It’s…different.”
Which sounded like a diplomatic way of saying the pair looked like a walking fashion disaster. “What would you have done differently?”
“Everything,” he muttered, then immediately pressed his lips together, his eyes widening with panic.
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “It’ll be our secret.” Leaning back, I held my arms out to my sides, inviting his gaze. “What about me? How do I rank?”
“Well, you’re gorgeous, of course, so I imagine everything looks good on you. I like—” His voice died abruptly, and his face flamed about a dozen different shades of red.
Gods, he was fucking adorable.
I dropped my arms and bent toward him again. “What do you like, River?”
He coughed to clear his throat and fidgeted in his seat, his gaze firmly affixed to the table. “I like the black on black, and your tie adds color without being garish.”
Honestly, I’d paired my suit with a black dress shirt because I had forgotten to pick up the white one from the dry cleaner. The icy blue tie striped with silver had been a gift from my sister, and nothing came with a designer label.
When I told him this, he rolled his eyes.
“Fashion isn’t about labels, and money can’t buy good taste.” His eyes flickered toward the limousine still parked on the curb, though he refrained from saying anything else about the couple.
“That right there.” I extended my index finger and pointed it at his chest. “Keep that energy tonight.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “What energy would that be?”
“Quiet judgment with the receipts to back it up.”
Laughing, he moved to the edge of his chair and folded his arms on the tabletop. “You are a bad influence, Deaton Horne.”
“Not yet.” I grin, smooth and easy. “That cost extra.”
Though the pink returned to his face, he didn’t look away this time. Instead, he held my gaze, those blue eyes sparking with challenge.
“How much?”
Damn, I liked that. Maybe a little too much.
I adjusted in my seat to accommodate my growing erection, but when I spoke, I kept my voice light and teasing. “I guess that depends on how much you want to be…influenced.”
The color in his cheeks deepened and spread to the tips of his ears. After a few seconds, he gave up the fight and dropped his gaze.
“We should probably head inside.”
I nodded because it was expected. In truth, I didn’t want to give up our time together yet, and I especially hated the idea of sharing him with a room full of people.
Stupid, of course. I knew better than to make things personal, but I couldn’t take it back now. I’d just have to be more careful going forward, do my job, and make sure I didn’t ruin this opportunity for him because I had been reckless enough to blur the lines.
“You’ll stay close, right?” he asked as he rose to his feet.
I dipped my head again as I joined him. “If that’s what you want.”
He fidgeted with his bowtie and shuffled closer, bringing with him that hypnotizing scent that tested all my self-control.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Not to your standards?” I asked.
“It’s…different.”
Which sounded like a diplomatic way of saying the pair looked like a walking fashion disaster. “What would you have done differently?”
“Everything,” he muttered, then immediately pressed his lips together, his eyes widening with panic.
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “It’ll be our secret.” Leaning back, I held my arms out to my sides, inviting his gaze. “What about me? How do I rank?”
“Well, you’re gorgeous, of course, so I imagine everything looks good on you. I like—” His voice died abruptly, and his face flamed about a dozen different shades of red.
Gods, he was fucking adorable.
I dropped my arms and bent toward him again. “What do you like, River?”
He coughed to clear his throat and fidgeted in his seat, his gaze firmly affixed to the table. “I like the black on black, and your tie adds color without being garish.”
Honestly, I’d paired my suit with a black dress shirt because I had forgotten to pick up the white one from the dry cleaner. The icy blue tie striped with silver had been a gift from my sister, and nothing came with a designer label.
When I told him this, he rolled his eyes.
“Fashion isn’t about labels, and money can’t buy good taste.” His eyes flickered toward the limousine still parked on the curb, though he refrained from saying anything else about the couple.
“That right there.” I extended my index finger and pointed it at his chest. “Keep that energy tonight.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “What energy would that be?”
“Quiet judgment with the receipts to back it up.”
Laughing, he moved to the edge of his chair and folded his arms on the tabletop. “You are a bad influence, Deaton Horne.”
“Not yet.” I grin, smooth and easy. “That cost extra.”
Though the pink returned to his face, he didn’t look away this time. Instead, he held my gaze, those blue eyes sparking with challenge.
“How much?”
Damn, I liked that. Maybe a little too much.
I adjusted in my seat to accommodate my growing erection, but when I spoke, I kept my voice light and teasing. “I guess that depends on how much you want to be…influenced.”
The color in his cheeks deepened and spread to the tips of his ears. After a few seconds, he gave up the fight and dropped his gaze.
“We should probably head inside.”
I nodded because it was expected. In truth, I didn’t want to give up our time together yet, and I especially hated the idea of sharing him with a room full of people.
Stupid, of course. I knew better than to make things personal, but I couldn’t take it back now. I’d just have to be more careful going forward, do my job, and make sure I didn’t ruin this opportunity for him because I had been reckless enough to blur the lines.
“You’ll stay close, right?” he asked as he rose to his feet.
I dipped my head again as I joined him. “If that’s what you want.”
He fidgeted with his bowtie and shuffled closer, bringing with him that hypnotizing scent that tested all my self-control.
“Don’t leave me.”