99 Percent Mine

“She kind of is,” Jamie says, wicked as usual.

Tom replies in a growl. “She’s part owner. I’m never doing it again. Move, Patty.”

“Okay,” Jamie agrees after a beat. “Better tell her about the dining room now.”

Exasperation. “I’m not telling her. I’m asking her.”

“Asking me what?” I walk in like I’ve got impeccable timing. “Well? What? Chris will be here in fifteen minutes. How do I look, boss?” I smile widely at Tom. “I’m finally in uniform.”

“A little big,” Jamie says dismissively.

I give him a dark look. “Truly’s going to alter it for me.”

Tom stares at my Valeska Building Services shirt and I think he bursts a blood vessel. Or chokes himself. Something instant and painful. It’s a huge fluorescent polo in a fabric blend I don’t really care for. It’s unbuttoned at the neck and the top of my bra is showing. This bra is a ten on the Richter scale. I am a bad person. As he watches, I gather the hem and knot it at my hip.

“Looks fine,” Tom says robotically, but I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t just walk over, pick me up over his shoulder, and carry me out.

“Who’s Chris?” Jamie hates being out of the loop. “Why’s he arriving in fifteen?”

I hand the second mug I’m holding to Tom. “He’s reinforcing the foundation on the downhill-slope side. And he’s late. I told him to bring us doughnuts to apologize for his poor time management.”

“I need that so bad,” Jamie tells Tom with a slight tremor in his voice. He holds out two fingers for the coffee mug. “Gimme.”

Sugar is my blood type; caffeine is Jamie’s. It’s the crutch that keeps him upright and functioning. Tom just takes a sip in response. High five.

Jamie huffs. “Where’d you get that?”

“She has a coffeepot in her bedroom,” Tom says, then freezes like he’s busted.

“Okay, thirty seconds.” Jamie makes a beeline to the back door. “There’d better be a third mug.”

“Couldn’t cover that with makeup?” Tom’s looking at the hickey on my neck. “I’m going to have to deal with guys looking at that all day, thinking about you.” A memory eclipses his eyes black. He presses his thumb against it and no doubt feels my pulse. “That’s mine to look at.”

I can’t stop myself from tiptoeing up to press a kiss on his jaw. His stubble is like sugar crystals on my lips. He’s forgotten my brother. He’s forgotten anyone who isn’t me.

“Let them look. I know who gave it to me.”

“They’ll know, too. They’re not idiots.” He looks at the back door and his next words are barely audible. “I can’t believe Jamie’s not picking up on it. Your clothes fall off around me.” His fingernail drags across the corporate embroidery. “Am I a complete animal for loving my name on your chest?”

“You’ve always been a complete animal, Valeska. I’ll explain it to you sometime.” I tiptoe up to his ear. “When I’m wearing this and nothing else.”

I’m wasting time. I only have a minute. I’ve never told a man I love him, and this is the only one I’m ever going to tell. How do I do this right?

“Hey, what you were saying before . . .” How do I frame it? I’m scared I’m going to open my mouth and scream it in his face. I swallow and huff out a breath. “I wanted to tell you that—”

“I know.” He cuts me off easily and I sink down from my tiptoes. He knows? Or he doesn’t want to hear my cringeworthy attempt at a declaration? He knows I’m emotionally stunted and is trying to spare me. How embarrassing to not be able to match his softness and depth.

He runs a hand down my collar to tidy it but ends up pulling me closer. He bends down to inhale at my neck. “Alex better have washed this shirt.”

“He did. I think.” This is what is easy between us. The lust.

The thought of another man’s smell on me has him boiling down into his base self. It’s palpable; the air snaps electric and I’m desperate for his hands on my skin. He’s hard against me. If we were alone, he’d put me against a wall and himself in me.

We hear my brother grumbling and Tom puts a few feet between us.

“I don’t know how you’re physically capable of this.” I look at the front of his pants. “What does it take to wear you out?”

He’s still looking at his name on me. “Probably impossible.”