Page 11 of Bit's Bliss

“Why does being called a kid bother you so much?”

I took a knife out of the drawer and plunged it into an avocado. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman.”

“Twenty-three?”

“You hired me. I assumed you knew my age.”

“I didn’t pay attention.”

“Now, you know.”

“That you’re not a kid?”

“That’s right.” I opened the microwave, put two tortillas on a plate, then took it to the stove to add the eggs. “Do you want hot sauce?” I asked, setting it and the smaller plate where I’d put avocado slices in front of him.

“Yes, please.”

His eyes widened when I set it down harder than I meant to.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“You will be,” he said under his breath.

My mouth gaped. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

I put both hands on my hips. “What will you do, fire me?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, Eberly. I won’t be firing you.”

“What, then?”

He took a bite of his taco, then wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin I’d set next to his plate. “Don’t ask questions you might not care for the answers to.”

“Other than taking my job away, I can’t imagine anything you’d do that I wouldn’t.”

He took another bite and raised a brow. “I bet you could if you tried.”

“So, um, why do your brothers call you Bit?” I stammered in an awkward attempt to change the subject.

He wiped his mouth again and grinned. “Because they were all bigger than me.”

My eyes opened wide, and he chuckled.

“It’s true. I was a late bloomer.”

I turned around to plate a taco for myself, not that I had much of an appetite. “You more than made up for it,” I said under my breath, sighing before walking around the island to sit next to him. I’d just hoisted myself up on a stool when he spun it so I faced him, then spread my legs.

“Ishouldfire you, you know?”

I looked down at his hands resting on my thighs, right above my knees. “Why?”

“As soon as I put my hands on you, I crossed a line.”

I stared him down, unable to guess what he’d do next. Would he inch his fingers up my legs, or would he restrain himself? Instead of doing either, he squeezed my flexed muscles.

“Powerful. I like that.”