His Temporary Assistant

Of course I’d also left early, but I still felt like it was a moral victory. His penis was directly responsible for my unintended absence in any case.

I came to a halt beside an eye-searing red convertible with black leather seats and every amenity known to man. “Look at that. Someone’s showing off their money. Probably a dick compensation toy. Jeez, donate to the homeless or something, why don’t you?”

Preston lifted his wrist to do something on his smart watch, and the convertible purred to life. It took me a second to realize he hadn’t just wanted to check the temperature.

He’d started the car with his watch. The dick toy.

“Think so?” His tone was mild as he took my elbow and guided me toward the vehicle. “You might want to reconsider that assessment.”

“And I might not. What the hell? Where did you get this?”

His brow arched as if I was a cranky child. “From the dealership. I didn’t steal it, Miss Moon.”

“But what about your grandpa car?”

“Careful, you’ll make my head swell with all this praise. Assuming it even can.”

“Is that a sex joke?”

“Is it?” He circled the hood without bothering to open my door.

After my diatribe, he’d probably decided manners were overrated. I wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong.

I slid into the car and tried not to moan at the buttery feel of the leather against my legs. It was hot as Hades out, so it shouldn’t have felt so sinful. I couldn’t help looking at all the dials and gauges and popping open the glove compartment to ooh and aah over the space.

What didn’t have a lot of space was the backseat.

“Barely even enough room for a carrier back there.” I clicked on my belt as he signaled into traffic.

He didn’t respond, but his acceleration to the next light was a little…excessive. As was his cornering and the force of his braking.

I shoved my sunglasses higher on my nose and tried not to wiggle into the bucket seats. This car had some serious power, and it was evident even on the city streets. The warm wind felt like heaven blowing back my hair, and I couldn’t help fiddling with the incredible sound system. The bass was intense. He wasn’t playing with it, so why shouldn’t I?

To be an ass, I put it on the hair metal station. He didn’t so much as flicker a long dark eyelash.

His silence was like a cushion of disapproval. The hot curves of the car, sexy leather seats, and great music pumping from the truly magnificent speakers couldn’t dent it.

He still didn’t speak as he pulled into a long driveway a little while later. The house came into view slowly, surrounded by trees and dappled by the oncoming sunset. I glimpsed a lot of fenced-in space in back and a wide wraparound porch on at least three sides. The second level had a couple of small porches too. Light reflected off the many panes of glass, almost blinding in the late day sunshine.

The car rolled to a stop at end of the drive, and I realized I was clutching my purse with both hands as he turned it off.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why ever for?”

“You’re entitled to spend your money however you choose.” I shoved back a piece of hair the wind had tumbled into my face. “You work hard, and hey, I’m all for trading in your grandpa car for this sweet little ride.”

“Glad to hear you approve.” He climbed out of the car and walked around the back.

I shut my eyes and wanted to bind my own tongue to the roof of my mouth. Maybe then I wouldn’t say such thoughtless things anymore.

Then again, probably not.

He waited for me on the walk, one hand tucked in his pocket. He didn’t reach for me as we ascended the steps to the porch. Nor did he speak as he unlocked the front door and let us into a large, sunlit foyer with an old, expensive-looking rug over gleaming hardwood. A stained glass window on the stairs leading to the second level shot colorful rays in all directions, adding a soft, diffuse light to the space.

“You have a lovely home. A home for a family.”

“Why do you sound accusatory when you say that?” He dropped his keys in a crystal dish on a café style table with inlaid stained glass tiles.