He shrugs, checking something on his phone. “I have about forty minutes—”
“Two hours. This is a business lunch. We’ll be doing work.”
He bunches his brows together, contemplating my argument. “Okay… I’ll go get my coat.”
While he does that, I book a table at The Vine, a high-end venue that I frequent. The focus of the lunch will surely be the proposal, but once we have gone over it, I won’t let him off easily. It’s been so long since someone had excited me the way he does, and I find myself wanting to learn more about him, to get to know Joshua Anderson despite our bumpy start. I have a hunch that we might get along, and I’m pretty sure he feels it too, or he wouldn’t have agreed to dance with me and meet me for lunch when he could’ve just sent his proposal to the commission.
As we make our way to my car once he returns, I wonder if he has an ulterior motive. But surely, he knows it won’t work. Yes, we fucked, and yes, he intrigues me, but I’m not the type to make irrational decisions just because my dick likes someone. Then again, I’d love to see him try to seduce me, so if things went that way, I am definitely playing along.
We greet a group of people having lunch on a bench. They all smile at Josh, and it seems genuine, unlike the fake smiles I get when I walk around HQ. It’s a sign of a closely knit community, and maybe I could learn a thing or two if I asked him about it.
When we reach my car, Josh’s eyes widen and he fights off a smile. Appreciation is written all over his face, making him ten times cuter than when he’s scowling at me.
“Not gonna accuse me of being a showoff?” I toss, unlocking the Lamborghini.
His green gaze settles on me as we get in the car, amused and smiling. “That’s obvious and therefore not even worth bringing up. I did consider pointing out that you must be making up for something by driving a flashy car like this, but…”
He bites on his lip and the action almost undoes me as a thrill shoots down my entire body. It takes everything I have in me not to lean over the console, grab his neck and capture that smartass mouth.
“But we both know I have no need to compensate for anything,” I finish for him with a smirk.
His mouth presses in a line, a hint of embarrassment painting his cheeks. God, he’s so fucking sexy. “I’d get one too, if I could afford it,” he says after a short but awkward pause, changing the topic.
Even if my flirting got shut down, I like his honesty. Most people would say they’d never buy a car like this, that it is a waste and not very functional, and they would probably be right. But if you have the means, I don’t see anything wrong with indulging yourself every once in a while, as long as you don’t do it all the time.
I start the car and rev the engine, but then I notice he’s struggling to work the seatbelt into the buckle. Seeing that as an opportunity, I reach over and help him tuck it in, loving the sharp inhale he takes when the tiny space forces our faces close. It’s also then that I notice his messy hair is a richer brown in the daylight, which resurrects that craving to run my fingers through it. I resisted last time because there were people around us, but now that we are alone, I just can’t find it in me to deny myself what I want.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I take a lock of his hair between two fingers.
I rub it between my tips, then slick it back as I run my hand through the silkiness gracing his head. “There was a leaf.”
He scowls, but doesn’t argue with me. I take it as a win.
“So, you are into sports cars?”
“Sure. Who isn’t? They look badass. Sports bikes, too.” He glares at me accusingly as I take the car out of the parking lot. “Don’t tell me you own a motorbike, too?”
I don’t as I’ve never been interested in them, but it doesn’t stop me from teasing him. “What would you do if I did?”
Drumming his fingers against the door, he hums. “I’d steal it, fake my death and move to some warm country in Asia.”
His answer pulls a chuckle out of me. It’s kind of random, a bit overdramatic too, but it somehow fits him. I can picture him sporting one of those black mesh suits and a balaclava, slipping into my garage through the one window I tend to leave unlocked, using some home-made hacking device he got on the dark web to get my rollupdoor to open, and riding into the night with my brand-new motorbike.
“Maybe I should get one then, just so I can get you to come over.”
He snorts. “I wouldn’t be coming over. I’d be dropping by tostealfrom you.”
“I better stock up on popcorn then.”
The traffic is light enough so I catch his eyeroll. It brings a grin to my face.
“So, where are we going?” he asks as we leave the narrow road behind the Union building and merge with the heavy traffic up front.
“I booked us a table at The Vine. It’s one of my favorite restaurants.” I don’t ask if he’s been there because it’s not the type of place people with regular jobs and incomes can afford. “And it’s my treat, of course.”
He huffs out a little indignantly. “I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately for that kind of place. Besides, it’s on the other side of town. It will take us at least fifty minutes to get there.”
That is a valid point. I’d rather spend the time with my full attention on him rather than driving. “The food is genuinely good. And the commute doesn’t count toward our two hours.”
