Switch (Landry Family 3)

“Back to the matter at hand,” I say, bringing him back around to non-Mallory topics, “When do you want to launch?”

“As soon as possible. I’m going fucking crazy sitting around.”

“You? Sit around?” I roll my eyes.

“It was a figure of speech,” he says, standing. “I actually am taking Mom to breakfast today.”

I stand, too, and watch him head to the door. “You’re making me look like the bad son. Before you came home, I just had to compete with Barrett and Linc and that’s not hard.”

He pops open the door, looks across Mallory’s office, then steps back inside my office and closes the door. “How in the hell do you get anything done with her sitting out there?”

Glancing at the clock, it’s three to eight. My stomach churns as I shrug. “I just try not to look.”

“Yeah. Just don’t look,” he chuckles. “You’re telling me you don’t imagine her bent over the copy machine?”

“Not as much as I imagine her bent over my desk.”

His laughter makes me smile. “If your goal is to simply not look at her, you’re going to need to put on blinders today, brother. Fucking hell.”

“You can wear them too, for that matter.” I toss him a look, one that he reads correctly. His hands shoot up in the air, one still holding his cup of coffee.

“I’ll just say good morning. It would be rude not to. Anyway,” he grins cheekily, “what do you care?”

I fix my gaze on him until he shakes his head and gives me a little wave. He leaves the door open so I can hear him greet Mallory as he leaves.

Her voice dances through my office, lifting my heartbeat as the volume of her tone softens. I find myself angling to listen to every last note, a sound I’ve craved since she left the office last night.

I’m beyond fucked. I have no plan for this. I have no clue how to navigate this minefield.

It’s been a long time since I’ve pulled a true all-nighter, but last night, I did. All. Damn. Night. I laid in bed, sat on the sofa, worked in the den, even went for a drive just to try to distract myself from the look on her face when I told her I couldn’t kiss her.

Something about watching her eyes lose their playfulness, feeling her physically distance herself from me, pains me in a terrible way. Seeing that look in her eye made me crave to hold her in my arms, to kiss her until I hear her whisper my name.

As if on cue, I hear her giggle from her desk. I smile even though my gut tenses. Lucky for me, I’m already sitting at my desk when she rounds the corner because if I were still standing, seeing her would knock me on my ass.

My pen clamors against the glass top as it tumbles from my fingers, my jaw going right along with it.

Holy. Shit.

A black dress that looks like it’s wrapped around her in a hundred different pieces, winds tightly around her gorgeous body. Her hair is thick, wild, but strategically so. I see why Ford told me to wear blinders.

“Morning,” she says simply. “I was just coming to shut this. I know you like your first few hours of the day quiet.”

“I’ve already been here a few hours.” My voice sounds robotic and I try to shake out of this spell, but it’s hard—in so, so many ways.

If this is her way of punishing me for not kissing her yesterday, she wins. Punishment doled out and accepted. I’ll have blue balls all fucking day.

She begins to pull the door closed when she stops suddenly. “Oh, don’t forget your nine o’clock meeting called late yesterday and moved it to nine thirty. I bumped your eleven o’clock appointment until after lunch so you’re not rushed.”

“What about my appointment at one?” I ask, feeling like I’m grasping at straws. My entire day’s schedule is out of whack and I’m scrambling to wake up my computer to pull up my planner, all the while keeping one eye on her.

“I took care of it. They really didn’t need to meet with you,” she replies. “I faxed them the contracts to sign and asked them to courier them back by the end of the day. It’ll be like you met with them, but will save you an hour.” With a fake smile and a little shimmy of her hips that is for my benefit, she closes the door. And I just stand there, telling reminding myself I can’t just go open it again.

Mallory

I MAKE A KISSY FACE at my reflection, making sure the red lipstick and heavier eye makeup I just applied look good before snapping my compact closed. The little button is lit on my phone, indicating it’s five o’clock and I’m officially off-duty. Graham usually comes out to say goodbye or see how my day went, but he doesn’t today.

Sm