Page 18 of Men or Paws

“I’m guessing you’re never going to let me forget that conversation,” I said.

“Where would be the fun in that?” Rocco chuckled, which surprised me considering all the things I’d said to him on the phone. I hadn’t meant to be mean. He wasn’t supposed to hear any of that since I really had thought I was talking to my brother.

Did it really not bother Rocco at all?

It wasn’t important, really.

I held up the folder. “I have the NDA and employment contract, but—”

Rocco creased his eyebrows. “Marcello was supposed to get that from you.”

“He asked for it, but I told him I needed to talk to you first. I have an addendum to the contract that you’ll need to sign.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Rocco shrugged good-naturedly and gestured back to the house. “Come inside. Give me ten minutes to take a shower and then I’m all yours.”

I’m all yours.

Give me a break.

That was probably his go-to phrase around women to get them to turn to mush and then strip off their clothes without being asked to do so.

Not me.

Sure, he had an amazing body, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think his ten-pack abs reminded me of a loaf of Kings Hawaiian Rolls.

All I needed was some room-temperature butter and—

Knock it off!

Thankfully, Rocco showed me some mercy and grabbed a towel from one of the chairs, wrapping it around his waist. Then he grabbed a second towel, his head disappearing underneath it as he dried his hair.

A few more drops of water flew from his body, hitting me in the sunglasses.

I took them off to dry the lenses and—

No, no, no, no.

I had made a huge mistake.

Those weren’t my sunglasses in my hands.

They were my reading glasses that I had forgotten to take off in the car.

In other words, he could see my eyes through the lenses, which meant that every time I ogled Rocco, he knew.

His chest, his arms, his legs, his ten-pack abs, everything.

I. Was. Mortified.

Suddenly, I felt a little nauseated.

Heat rose up my neck to my face.

I had fueled the fire of an egomaniac and embarrassed myself in the process.

Rocco finished drying his hair and wrapped the second towel around his neck, hanging onto both ends with his hands. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, scanning the yard, in search of a cliff to jump off.