6. Rick #3
“He’s going to pitch to Marcus the day before we do,” she whispered, the color draining from her cheeks as the reality of the situation set in. “He’s going to steal this account from us, I can just feel it.”
“No, he won’t,” I said, leaning across the table and locking my eyes onto hers.
The protective, competitive fire inside me was burning white-hot.
“Leonard thinks he can play with the big kids, but he forgets one major detail: he doesn’t have your talent.
We have four days. We’re going to make our pitch so spectacular that whatever Leonard’s ideas are, it’s going to look like a child’s drawings next to yours. ”
A soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, and her gaze held mine for a beat longer. The anxiety that had tensed her shoulders a moment ago seemed to melt, replaced by a warm, sparking energy that felt alive. I couldn’t help but feel sucked into it.
As we finished our drinks, the discussion switched from the account to the local sports team somehow.
To my happy surprise, Sofia was well versed on everything sports.
She even grilled me on keeping up with the Colorado teams while I was, as she put it, betraying my birth state by rooting for California’s teams.
“I’m just saying,” she teased, leaning her chin on her hand, a playful glint in her eyes as she looked across the empty nacho platter at me.
“If you’re going to run a firm in Golden, even temporarily, you can’t be secretly cheering for San Diego.
It’s bad luck. And honestly? Highly offensive to the mountains. ”
“Oh, is that a rule in the employee handbook?” I chuckled, tilting my head. I found myself looking at the way the amber neon light from the bar caught the dark highlights of her hair. “Because last time I checked, I’m the one who writes the rules.”
“Well, you might control the agency, temporarily,” she murmured, her voice dipping lower as she held my gaze, a tiny, defiant smile touching her lips, “but you don’t control the Colorado sports gods. I’m just trying to save your reputation, boss man.”
We laughed and joked, and as hard as I tried not to flirt with her, I managed to botch it a few times. When she reached for her glass and her fingers brushed against mine, a literal spark of static electricity jumped between us.
“See?” she gasped softly, pulling her hand back with a little flush on her cheeks. “The gods are already warning you.”
“I don’t think that was the gods,” I said, my voice dropping an octave as I looked at her, the humor suddenly giving way to a heavy, magnetic tension that hung thick in the space between our chairs. I wanted to say it was a spark of interest but held my tongue.
As we walked out of the restaurant into the crisp, cool Colorado night air, a sudden shiver ran through her. She hugged her arms tightly across her chest. She must have left her forest-green blazer back at the office.
“Cold?” I asked, stepping a little closer to shield her from the wind whipping off the foothills.
“A little,” she admitted, looking up at me through her lashes. “It’s starting to be so warm during the day that I forget it dips to frigid after the sun goes down.”
“Can I drive you home?” I asked, already reaching into my pocket for my keys, entirely unwilling to let this night—or her company—go just yet.
“No.” She chuckled. “That’s my building there.” She pointed across the street to an old two-story brick building. I must have passed it a hundred times in my life and hadn’t known it housed apartments.
“Can I walk you home then?” I corrected and had her laughing.
“Sure,” she said, and we started toward the crosswalk.
“You only live two blocks away from work, that must be nice,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“It is. Where are you staying at? Did you move back in with your folks?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, I rented a house about a mile away from here. It was easier. Besides, my folks are used to being empty nesters at this point.”
She stopped at the door to her building. “Well, this was… a very pleasant evening.”
“Sofia,” I started and then felt a knot in my throat while she waited, looking up at me. “I… don’t take this wrong, but I’m struggling with being attracted to you. I know I’m in a position—”
Whatever I was going to say next stuck in my throat when she lifted on her toes and brushed her lips against mine.
That spark was back, only this time, it knocked my socks off and stole my breath away. Damn. She packed one hell of a punch. Her lips were soft and smooth, and she tasted like heaven. I wanted more. Needed it like I needed my next breath.
My hands slowly reached up and held onto her as she swayed against me. I angled my lips over hers and took what was offered, enjoying every heartbeat we were connected.
“Maybe I’m a little tipsy from the beer, or maybe it was the nachos.
” She sighed, holding her lips against mine.
“Nope, it’s the scent of sandalwood mixed with your blue eyes.
” She smiled as her eyes searched mine. “Goodnight, Rick,” she said suddenly as she pulled back.
I watched her walk into her building and cursed myself the entire way back to my rental.