Page 12 of MOM

For someone who I suspect agreed to being friends more out of politeness than anything else, he's doing an awfully good job adapting.

Friends might be a good starting point, but it's not where I want to end up with him.

We reach the door to my suite.

"Nightcap?" I suggest.

"Your version being a chicken and rice smoothie?"

I grin because there he is, the dynamo that blew into that meeting room and knocked me on my ass.

"I'm prepared to forfeit that for a more traditional option."

He shrugs a shoulder. "Sure. I'll haveonedrink."

We step inside, and I make our drinks. A G&T for him and a very weak vodka soda for me. I may not be in training at the moment, and despite weighing two hundred and twenty pounds, I'm not much of a drinker. Never have been. It just doesn't do anything for me.

Since it's a nice night, I suggest, "Wanna sit out on the balcony?"

"Sure."

It's actually a smaller balcony than I realized, so even though a table and two chairs are tucked away in the corner, we both choose to stand and lean against the railing instead. The Topa Topa mountains sit close and dark. The almost full moon glowsa bright orange. Below us, the courtyard is strung with warm lights, glasses clink, and someone laughs.

"It's beautiful out," Decker says before taking a sip of his drink.

"You bring all your PR disasters here?"

He turns and looks up, his blue eyes lit up by the glow of a streetlight. "Only the ones I like."

I smirk. "Thought you were about to say only the ones who give you the most trouble."

"You haven't been any trouble at all. I really feel for what you're going through, and I think you're doing amazingly well, all things considered."

"Thank you."

Coming from him, that's mighty fine praise. Not just because he's an experienced PR agent who knows what he's talking about, but after everything he and his family have gone through in the public eye, his words resonate on a deeper level.

"Permission to say something highly inappropriate," I hedge.

His lips don't smile, but his eyes do. "This is becoming a habit."

"Only if you let it."

He takes another sip and leans against the guardrail, staring out. "Permission granted."

I take a breath. Here goes. "I'm picking up on a…vibe between us. I like you, and I think you like me."

He doesn't say anything, so I go on. "I hope that in your very thorough research, you concluded that the rumors about my sex life are gross overexaggerations and downright lies. I don't fuck around. The last time I had sex was eighteen months ago. With my now ex."

"Go on."

"I also know about the importance of professional boundaries."

He takes a deep breath then reaches out, letting his hand glide up my arm. Heat erupts in my chest. "Uh-huh."

"And I'm all for sticking to them…resuming from tomorrow."

His fingers keep smoothing up and down my forearm. "What exactly are you suggesting, Mr. Summers?"