Damn Cameron Hartson. Why did she react like this to him?
You’re the one who didn’t call when she was supposed to. I’ve been sitting by the phone all night. I feel rejected. C
She smiled in spite of herself. Dammit, he was flirting. And it felt nice, so nice, to be flirted with. Her finger hovered over the phone. Turn it off, or call him? For a moment it all hung in the balance. Then she pressed her finger on the screen.
“Hey.” He answered the phone almost as soon as his screen lit up. Didn’t want to give her a chance to disconnect. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
He smiled at the sound of her voice. Everything about her made his body tense up in the best of ways. He blamed it on his furlough from football. His mind was bored and his body was restless and she filled all the blanks where a ball used to be.
“How was your first day at work?” Keep it clean, Hartson. He leaned back on the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table made out of driftwood that had probably cost Tanner more than most people made in a month.
“You know what? It was great.” Her voice lifted up with enthusiasm, and it made him smile. “Everybody was so lovely, and I have this amazing project to work on. I just need a few more hours in the day.”
“I got a few if you want them.”
She laughed. “If only it was that easy. I don’t suppose you know anything about marketing?”
“I know how to look sultry in a magazine campaign to sell watches.”
Another laugh. Each one felt like winning a game. “I bet you do. What watches were those again? Just so I can check out the competition.”
“You’re not selling watches,” he reminded her. But damn, he liked it when she flirted back with him.
“No, but somebody in a marketing department or advertising company came up with it. They’re my competition. The product is just the thing we play with. The ball, if you like. So give me a name, Hartson.”
“Depuis.”
She let out a whistle. “They’re expensive.”
“I got three if you want one. They do nothing other than sit in my top drawer. I don’t even wear a watch.” He imagined clipping the oversized silver strap around her delicate wrist, and damn if that didn’t make him hard.
Everything about Mia Devlin made him want her.
“Sure. Just give me a twenty thousand dollar watch. Add it to the invoice for the car. I have a spare thirty thousand sitting around.” She laughed. “And I’m not even going to mention the fact that you have sixty thousand dollars worth of jewelry sitting in a drawer. What else do you have? A Matisse in the closet? A Rolls Royce in the basement?”
It was his turn to laugh. “I always meant to do something with them. Then I thought I’d save them for my nephews, but they’re still too little, so they’re just waiting.”
“You should put them in a deposit box at the bank or something. Anybody could steal them.” She sounded concerned.
“Since I only have a cleaner come in, I think I’m safe there. Unless you’re planning on putting on a catsuit and sneaking into my Boston apartment.” And now he wanted to see her in a catsuit, dammit.
“I was thinking more about burglary. Or a home invasion. People know you’re a football player, you’re an easy target.”
His voice lowered. “Are you worried about my safety, Mia? Because I don’t know if you’ve seen me, but I’m two hundred and twenty pounds of brick wall. And I have a baseball bat under my bed and I know how to use it.”
“You don’t take a baseball bat to a gunfight. And you’re not even in Boston. Please put them in a safety deposit box.”
His chest tightened. When was the last time anybody worried about him? “Okay,” he said softly. “I will. If it’ll make you sleep easier at night.”
“Thank you. Though I haven’t been sleeping at all for the past few nights, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Why not?” Cam always slept like a log. Didn’t matter what bed he was in, or which state for that matter. His head hit the pillow and he was out. The thought of not sleeping made him wince.
“Too much on my mind. My job, the boys, everything. I can’t relax.”
“I know how to help you with that.” His voice was gritty. Low.