His Temporary Assistant

“I don’t need therapy. And I don’t need a man to fill me up. I’m happy alone.”

“Do you think I want to change that?” I gentled my grip on her. “You intrigue me, not because you’re a curiosity, but because you’re brave. You live authentically.” Part of being brave was honesty. Another thing I wasn’t familiar with anymore. “And I don’t.”

“You can. Anytime you want to. You can make the choice.”

“I’m figuring that out. In the meantime, I want to do what feels good.”

She took another bite of her potatoes. They had to be cold by now. “You wouldn’t be a man if you didn’t.”

“I don’t mean just sex. I don’t see you like that. I wish you didn’t either.”

“Right.”

“Would I be sitting here with you if that was all I wanted?”

“You tell me.”

“There are hotels all over. Places we could stop and fuck and no one would be the wiser.”

“Your pinstriped soul would know. By the way, I’m surprised you haven’t shown up in a suit like that. Or a three-piece one. Vest included.” She caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “All buttoned up so someone could imagine stripping off the layers to see what’s beneath.”

“I haven’t been intimate with a woman in more than two years.” Saying it felt like I was baring my soul. I wasn’t a virgin—far from it—but somehow even this admission to a woman as free and open as Ryan made me feel like the next thing to it. “Sex doesn’t rule me.”

“Maybe it should. Nothing wrong with needing a release valve.”

“No,” I agreed. “There isn’t. And maybe you shouldn’t think the worst when someone with a penis wants to hear about what you like. Not all men think with their dicks.”

“And not all women want to be peeled open like a banana to reveal all their secrets.”

“Tit for tat.” I cocked my head when Smoky let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sigh. “I won’t ask you for more than I’m willing to give. How’s that sound?”

“Like a lawyer’s negotiation.”

I shrugged and ate some of my own cold potatoes. They really were better with ketchup.

“Fine,” she said after a minute. “Have it your way. I got into tarot because I wanted to make friends in high school. People like to hear about themselves. Especially young women.”

“Not only young women,” I said drily. “I meet plenty of men who can’t get enough of talking about themselves.”

“Well, lawyers. You know how they are. Pompous windbags.” She waved a hand then rubbed her thumb over my hand to soften the joke.

“You should read my cards.”

Her laughter was loud, quick, and unprompted. “I know I have nice tits, but wow.”

“Not arguing there.”

“Imagine if you’d seen the rest of me?” she asked silkily, her thumb still on the move against my skin. “I’d probably have the keys to your house by now.”

“I’m serious. I’m curious what you’d see.”

“It’s not all fun and games. The cards intuit things we don’t always want known. Allowing someone to read your cards can be as intimate as sex.”

“Then I definitely want you to read mine.” It wasn’t like I was going to get lucky tonight. That barn door had closed.

Slammed shut might have been a more accurate description. But blue balls aside, I liked this new direction we were headed in.

Tomorrow, I’d wake up and think I was losing it. But right now? I liked holding her hand and watching her stunning eyes nar