Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

Ty looked overwhelmed and almost shy in the spotlight. It was endearing how self-conscious he was with all the attention. It reminded her of how he’d been when they’d surprised him on his birthday. He genuinely had no idea how much everyone liked him.

She went to her office to drop her bag and returned to the workroom to, quickly, complete a familiar morning project.

“Okay, that’s enough everybody.” She raised her voice to be heard above the excited chatter. “Give the poor man some breathing room and get back to work.”

They all grumbled good-naturedly but went about their morning tasks. Vicki walked to the anterior of the store and stood in front of the seated man by the door. His head was level with her chest, and he took a long appreciative look at her breasts, prettily plumped in the push-up bra she was wearing beneath her dusky pink, bell-sleeved, maxi dress. It had a plunging neckline, and her small boobs were giving an impressive pretense of voluptuousness thanks to her Wonderbra.

He managed to tear his gaze away from her chest and lifted his head to meet her eyes, one eyebrow wickedly crooked in question. She knew he was silently asking her where this new cleavage came from.

She didn’t say anything, merely slanted him a mysterious smile. She lifted her left hand to show him what she held. His face lit up with a boyish grin at the sight of the boutonnière. She was always surprised by how sincerely he seemed to like these buttonholes. She often caught him touching the tiny sprig as if to reassure himself that it was still in place.

She jerked her chin, and he got up, towering above her as always. Her gaze was level with his chest, and it was easy for her to pin the flowers to his lapel, smoothing the expensive fabric down after the boutonnière was in place.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice grainy. He smiled at her, head bowed in an attempt to broach the ridiculous height difference between them.

“I’m happy you’re back. I like making these for you.”

“You don’t…” He stopped and a formidable frown furrowed his straight brows. “You don’t make these for Chance as well, do you?”

“Are you implying that I’m free and easy with my floral favors, sir?” she asked in mock outrage, laughter burbling in her voice.

“I thought I was meant to be a living advertisement for your wares,” he repeated, almost verbatim. “Why not Chance?”

Feeling daring, she went up onto her toes and hooked a hand around his neck to bring his head down further, until she was able to whisper in his ear. “Chance hasn’t worked as hard as you to earn these favors, Ty. Not even one orgasm, never mind multiples.”

He choked and reared his head back to stare at her in shock and no small amount of horror. His reaction was disheartening. Oh God, why had she said that? It was pretty self-evident that this thing between them was over, why did she keep referring to it?

“I should fucking hope he hasn’t given you any orgasms.” His voice was a grim, urgent undertone, and it perfectly matched his expression. “He’s my friend. I would hate to kill him for daring to touch you.”

Her eyes widened as she registered that she had misunderstood the reason for his horror. He did not like the idea of Chance touching her…at all.

How fascinating.

“Are you jealous?” she breathed, feeling foolish for even verbalizing the question. Yet the spark in his eyes told her that she was on the right track.

“No.”

“You’re lying.” She was thrilled that she’d actually recognized the untruth.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, my God, you totally are.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” The desperation in his voice made her smile, and she stepped away from him with a great deal of reluctance. A quick glance around the shop showed her that the others were all pretending to be busy, very determinedly not looking at Vicki and Ty. She stifled a groan; they would all know something was up for sure now…although she surmised that they’d probably had their suspicions long before today.

“Fine, but this conversation is not over,” she warned him.

His lips tilted upward, and he made a deep, rumbling sound in the back of his throat, before suggesting, “Why don’t we continue it—and our earlier conversation—tonight? My place? Over dinner?”

“Dinner?” she asked uncertainly.

He shifted from one foot to the other, looking entirely too awkward, “Please? Unless…uh, Chance has told me you’ve been out with that guy with the dumb name a couple of times. Is that getting serious?”

The guy with the dumb name?

“Do you mean Teddy?” she asked, confused.

He winced. “That would be the dumb name in question, yeah.”

How bizarre. What the heck was Chance up to?

“I had a late lunch with Teddy, Bella, and Pete last Thursday. That was the only time I saw him.”