Candy Boys (Hot Candy 1)

“Oh, sure. Didn’t you notice how they won’t do a thing to hurt their friendship? Now I’m going to casually ask them to… no. I’ll lose them both.”

“You don’t have them now, Candy.”

She has a point. “I could be friends with—”

“It won’t work. You want them too much.”

Again, point. “I can’t work with Jethro if I do more than I—”

“You invited him to take the job.”

I whirl on her. “Will you stop being right for one second?” I wag my finger at her. “I fucked up, okay? I never thought he’d apply for the job. Never thought you’d take him. Never thought Joel would keep coming with coffee and kisses. Never thought Jethro would want anything from me.”

“In short, you never gave this a single thought.”

Shit. “I just… never thought this could happen for real. I mean, them and me? Ridiculous.”

“Yep.”

“Thank you.” I glare at her. “Jealous much?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” She does that tongue-flicking thing again, and I’d laugh if I wasn’t so tense. “I mean, look at those guys. Totally, one hundred percent eye-candy. Nice, too. Nicer than I thought they’d be.”

Yeah. She’s right again.

Damn.

***

The next day tests my resolve and the boundaries of my sanity.

They’re both shaky.

The reason is Jethro, who’s sorting through our newest arrivals. I watch in a sort of trance as he bends over and lifts stacks of books, muscles shifting and bunching in his ass, his legs, his arms…

My face is growing warm. Heat spills down my belly, pooling between my legs. His dark hair curls a little at the back of his pale neck. He has a smudge on his cheek, and the ink on his arms flashes as he moves.

When he lifts the books onto a shelf, another black tattoo, on his lower back this time, peeks from under his T-shirt along with a strip of pale, firm flesh.

Man, who says summers in Wisconsin can’t be hot?

I fan myself as I try to remember what I was supposed to be doing. How can I, with him hunching down on his heels and then straightening with more books in his arms, with his dark pants hugging his muscular thighs, so tall and slender and handsome, I can’t even.

Jeez. Smoking hot.

And I shouldn’t be ogling him.

Ugh.

I manage to tear myself away and check our promotional materials like Donna requested. Business cards, flyers, bookmarks, both ours and sent to us by publishers and authors, all need to be catalogued and counted before we order or request any more. Outdated ones need to be sent to recycling, and I need to make sure we have received the most recent ones for the upcoming signing event Donna is organizing.

Hm… How many bookmarks were in that box? I stop and blink, my mind a blank.

Crap.

Still can’t concentrate. At this rate, I won’t have any more trouble because Donna will fire my lazy ass for not getting my job done.

Bonus points, though. I’ve managed not to drape myself all over Jethro and suck on his neck like a vampire, despite seeing him for hours every day. It’s a small victory, but I plan to celebrate by getting drunk tonight. It’s a Friday.