Page 106 of Boss Me
Cooper gave me a full-on, two-dimple grin that almost knocked me back a step.
“Now what?” If I could’ve broken our stare, I’d have looked down at Marlee for the post grand–gesture game plan.
“I’m going to kiss you now, Ben,” he growled, lowering his voice to a register that I could hear in the backs of my molars and in my belly.
“What, here?”
His lips landed on mine. Even over my pulse banging in my ears, I heard the whoops all around us. Cooper Fallon was kissing me. In public.
I looped my arms over his shoulders and held on tight. But when he opened his mouth to tease my lips with his tongue, I leaned back, breathless. “Hey, now. None of that. We’re at work, for God’s sake.”
His cheeks were red, and his chest heaved, too. “Maybe we could find a supply closet so I can show you how much I missed you?”
I was glad I’d worn my looser jeans that wouldn’t show how much that idea appealed to me. “After work, you can show me somewhere private. Like your bedroom.”
“I like the sound of that. But first, we’ll go on a date. Dinner and a movie.”
“A date in San Francisco with Cooper Fallon? What will the tabloids say?”
“Does it matter?”
“Fine. Dinner. Pick me up at seven. But I won’t have the patience for a movie. I’d rather check out your bedroom.”
He pecked my lips. “I’ll pick you up at six. Wear the tight jeans.” He didn’t slap my ass, but his hot gaze said he’d do it later.
I licked my lips. “Okay. I don’t care what you wear. I’ll be taking it off as soon as I can.”
“Guys?” I’d forgotten Marlee was right across the table from us. “Maybe save it for your date.”
He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “I’ve got to get back upstairs and approve the response to Gurusoft.”
“Don’t forget to eat.” I gripped his hand and released it. “See you at six.”
With one last, gas-flame glance, he turned and walked out. Yes, I watched his ass. So did half the cafeteria.
When I turned back to Marlee, she was standing. Her cheeks were pink. “Come on. I’ll walk you out. Then I’m going to find Tyler. And a supply closet.”
37
BEN
Going on a date with Cooper Fallon was more complicated than I predicted. He picked me up promptly at six. That wasn’t the complicated part, although Mimi gave him one of her patented menacing, big-sister glares when he came to the door. He drove us in his sleek gray Tesla to one of the fancy restaurants overlooking the bay.
What was complicated were the stares and the camera flashes. Cooper was the face of Synergy, and people knew those high cheekbones, those piercing blue eyes. Even if they didn’t know his face, no one was fooled into thinking his clothes came off the rack. His slacks had that expensive sheen, and his shirt flowed effortlessly over his toned torso. He dripped power and wealth, and heads turned when we passed.
He held my hand as we walked into the restaurant, and the whispers started. When I heard someone say his name, I turned—he didn’t—and that’s when someone’s camera caught me gaping, looking like an unruly child Cooper was towing. The photo made it to a local celebrity blog the next day, where I was labeled “Cooper Fallon’s Naughty Boy Toy.”
I didn’t hate it.
The host seated us on a private balcony overlooking the water. It would’ve reminded me of the meals we ate on Cooper’s deck on the island, but the breeze off the water raised goosebumps on my arms—or maybe that was being so close to Cooper. Regardless, I wore my jacket, and so did Cooper. I missed seeing his skin.
Later, Ben.
The dinner itself was amazing. The menu had no prices, and when I tried to skip the obviously a la carte appetizer and salad courses, Cooper told me to stop being ridiculous or he’d order my food. That sent a thrill up my spine, but then I remembered the healthy food Cooper preferred, and I ordered everything that sounded delicious.
Finally, over the main course—fish for both of us, but mine was fried, and his was broiled, no butter—I got up the courage to ask about Synergy.
“How mad was Weston? Did security walk him out?”
