Chapter 1 Lacey #2
I clear my throat, feeling every bit as awkward as I probably look, and walk back to my desk, putting a little too much swagger in my step in my hurry to get as much of the solid cherrywood between him and me as possible. Then I set down my mug and motion for him to come in.
“Have a seat,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. I give my head a little shake, frowning and desperately hoping to clear my muddled thoughts.
Do not lust after the biker.
I’m going to have to treat myself to a new vibrator after this weekend.
I’m going to need a hell of a release to manage the pent-up desire I feel for this man.
After a whole weekend? And if I can get him to do what I need him to do?
I’ll be an embarrassing puddle of need before the bride even tosses the bouquet.
Eagle’s still a good ten feet away from me, yet I swear, as I pull in a breath through my nose, a subtle whiff of aftershave and soap reaches my nose. I take in as much of the heavenly scent as I can before I realize he can probably tell what I’m doing.
As he approaches, the thick, well-worn soles of his boots scuff lightly against the floor. His stride is long, his legs looking muscular even through the faded denim of his well-worn jeans. I watch him a little too intently until he stops in front of my desk and lifts his brows.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
He looks down at the pristine silver fabric of the guest chair in front of my desk like he’s afraid he’s going to dirty it or break it. He mutters something low in his throat but drops into the chair and looks helplessly down at the armrests.
He’s so big, he has to wedge himself into the seat. A lost expression, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands, comes over his face. His legs are spread wide, and he finally decides to rest his hands on his knees.
I’ve been watching him this entire time like a hormone-soaked teenager with a crush, and I immediately scold myself for being a weirdo.
I’m his boss, for God’s sake. And men suck.
Love sucks. I need to pull myself together and get down to business.
I snap my eyes to my laptop and start tapping at the keys just for something to do.
“So, what’s up? Am I fired?” Eagle asks.
His pale skin is dusted with freckles and fine lines, weathered from years riding in the wind and sun. His hands are muscled like they’ve seen years of hard work. The silver threaded through his reddish hair and brows makes him look like a man who would chop down trees for fun.
I chuckle, a little too loudly, and answer his question. “Wait. What? Fired? Oh God, no. Why would you think that?”
He motions around with a tattooed hand. “Been working security for these fancy parties of yours for, what now…two years? I think this is the first time I’ve been called to the boss lady’s office.
Leads me to prepare for the worst. Unless you’re here to offer me a fat raise, in which case, I accept. ”
I laugh at his joke about the raise, but then I swallow, thankful for the reminder. He’s right. That’s what I am. I’m the boss lady. His boss.
All the more reason why I cannot lust after the biker.
Even if I can hardly help myself.
I force a smile, grateful he can’t read my thoughts.
“Eagle, no,” I tell him. “God, no. You’re not in trouble.
Not at all. And I’m sorry, but I don’t have a raise for you.
Though, I do have some news. We have a special request for the wedding this weekend.
The bride and groom have arranged some formalwear for you. ”
At that, a slow smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “Formalwear.” He repeats the word, his eyes sparkling like he’s about to burst out laughing.
“Yes, a tuxedo,” I explain. “The bride and groom have covered the cost. We just need to fit you so you’re comfortable at the event.”
“A tuxedo?” He says the word low in his throat, and I find myself swallowing hard at the deep rasp.
God, how he can make saying a word like tuxedo sound erotic, I’ll never know.
“Sorry, doll.” Eagle shakes his head slowly. “Tux and comfortable don’t fit in the same sentence. There ain’t no way you’re getting one of those things on my body.” He stands to leave, pushing himself out of the tiny formal chair opposite my desk.
I knew he would take some convincing, but I wasn’t prepared for this.
“Eagle, wait. You’re leaving? Are you serious?” I rush to my feet.
He must be serious because he’s halfway to the door before I realize I have to stop him.
I scurry around my desk and run as fast as my heels will allow across the marble. “Eagle, wait. Please. I need you at this wedding.”
His back is to me, and I reach for his arm to stop him. My fingers are only resting on the bare skin of his bicep, but my traitorous bitch of a body tells me to hold on much tighter than is necessary.
His skin is so smooth and hot. I don’t know what I expected him to feel like, but this is the first time I’ve touched him since I shook his hand when I hired him. I know, because I’ve been so, so careful not to touch him for this exact reason.
He looks down at my hand, and I yank it back, feeling horrible that I’ve crossed a line. He’s my employee and I didn’t do anything, but still. I take a fast step back just as Eagle turns to look down at me.
“Um, excuse me. Is Lacey there?” I hear a familiar voice calling past the mountain of man blocking her view of me. “You ready for the fitting?”
I clasp my hands together so I’m not tempted to do any more unauthorized touching. “Margaret,” I call out. “Yes, please. Come on in.”
Eagle steps aside to let the tailor I’ve hired past him. He crosses his arms over his chest and peers down at me. “I was just leaving,” he reminds me, lifting his chin slightly.
“Eagle, please,” I say. Hell, at this point, I’d drop to my knees and beg. That’s all I’d do—beg—if that meant I could get Eagle to work this weekend. But if he’s going to work this wedding, I’ve got to get him to wear the tux.
“Eagle, meet Margaret, the tailor,” I tell him. Then, without thinking, I blurt out, “Please, come back into my office. I need to get you out of your clothes.”