But the boundaries are drawn. I know my place. That’s fine.
Okay, it’s really not, but what choice do I have?
I’m lounging on the couch, about to get ready for my date with London, when Jason walks in.
Goddess, he looks amazing. His nicely tailored dark gray suit hugs his biceps and curves along his behind. He’s undone his tie, and his heavy scruff darkens his jaw.
“Hi, honey!” I call. “You’re home!”
He chuckles. “Hey, Murph. Have a good day?” He shrugs out of his jacket, placing it on the back of a chair, and slides off his tie.
There’s something yummy about a guy taking off a tie. Then he unbuttons his top button and rolls up his sleeves, and all the blood rushes from my face down south. “Yes,” I squeak. Then I clear my throat. Tamp down your Jason kink, Murph. “Busy at work, and some new marketing ideas coming up that I might get to help design.”
“You designing for the wine bar?” His green eyes catch mine, and he smiles.
This is not good. Jason has a force field that catches me in its tractor beam. Maybe he’s in some other alternate reality that draws me in. I must resist his luscious face.
So I focus on my phone and nod fiercely. “Yeah. It’ll soon be fall, and that’s time for mulled wine. Hot grape juice.”
He snorts. “Is that what you call it?”
“Only when I’m disrespecting it. But it’s there for me in the morning.”
Again, he laughs, and it makes me so happy to make him happy.
He settles down in the chair opposite mine, then throws his head back in relaxation. I watch him for a second.
“Want to go to the farmers market tomorrow?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I might be out late tonight.”
“No. I have a date.”
Jason lowers his head to face me. “Ah. I see.”
It’s my imagination that he looks disappointed, right? It has to be. My mind’s playing tricks on me. “London. The guy who sent me the … nude art earlier this week.”
“Where are you going?” Jason asks. Then his face falls. “Sorry. That sounded like a dad or something. I just wanted to make sure …” He fidgets in his seat. Then he tries again. “Just always wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“Aww, buddy,” I coo, fluttering my eyelashes. “You care about what happens to me?”
Jason’s frown deepens, if that were possible. Which, I guess it is possible, since I’m looking at it. “Yeah, I do. Where are you going?”
“Speakeasy. I have to leave in less than an hour. Time to go spruce up.”
I glide out of the room as Jason sits back and stares at me.
Murph 1, Jason 0.