Page 90 of All's Well that Friends Well
“Yes, lover?” she says immediately. She slides off the desk and whirls around, leaning all the way over until her face is right in front of mine, her eyes bright with humor and delight, her lips curved. “Yes, sweetheart? Honey? Baby?—”
I act without thinking, without any consideration at all. My hands fly up before I can stop them, one clamping over her mouth as the other slides around her neck and cradles the back of her head. I glare down at her, my pulse picking up as my mind spins with the incessant sound of her voice calling me things likeloverandbaby.
When I speak, my voice is rough. “Stop. Just—stop talking.”
And for one breathless second, her gaze clashes with mine, her eyes wide with surprise. I try to let go of her, because I must be out of my mind, but I can’t quite stop myhands from trailing to her cheeks, to cup her jaw—to drag my thumb over her lower lip, the slow tug of her pink kiss.
I’m not even breathing. My breath is trapped in my chest, my pulse whooshing in my ears, and the only real thing in the world is my touch on her lips.
“Just drop it,” I manage to get out, my gaze stuck, perhaps forever, on her mouth—my thumb still resting there, probably smudged with lipstick.
“I’ll drop it,” she says faintly, and I can feel her breath on my skin. I don’t dare move, because I’m worried if I do, it will only be to lean closer and kiss her. “I’ll drop it,” she repeats, “if you promise to think about your feelings when you see me with someone else.”
“I’m already thinking about it,” I growl, my hands tightening where they still cradle her jaw.
Juliet’s eyes drop to my lips. “Excellent,” she whispers, her smile growing. “In that case…”
She pulls away abruptly, straightening and smoothing her hands down her clothes. Then, adopting a perfectly neutral voice, she says, “If you’ll notice, I’ve made a few changes to your office space.”
“I—what?” It’s all I can get out while my brain scrambles to catch up, my pulse pounding in my veins. When I’ve finally pulled my thoughts away from her and to my desk instead, I find her changes at once. I sit back down, slumping into my chair as my heart continues to race. “What’sthat?”
“It’s a sun lamp,” she says promptly as we both look at the large, screen-like contraption sitting in the corner of my desk. “You get no natural light. You can use this thirty minutes a day.”
“I—okay?—”
“And here,” she goes on without waiting for me, “is yournew water bottle.” She produces it out of nowhere, a giant forty-ounce bottle in deep blue. There’s a sticker on the side that readsI love my assistant.
I look incredulously at the sticker. “Where onearthdid you get that?—”
“I’ve had it for a week,” she says. “I’ve just been looking for somewhere to put it. Now,” she goes on sternly. “You need to drink this entire bottle of water every day. Every day, got it? The whole thing. You don’t drink enough water, and it’s probably affecting your body more than you realize.”
Considering Rodney tells me the same thing, she’s probably right.
“It’s definitely part of the reason you’re so tired all the time, for one,” she says. “But I also have a bottle of melatonin for you. You should take one every night before you go to bed. It will help you fall asleep.”
“I’ll try the melatonin, but I don’t know if I can drink that entire thing in one work day,” I say, looking skeptically at the water bottle and then at her again. She’s speaking so normally right now, while I’m still trying to catch my breath.
“You will,” she says with a bright smile, “or you’ll face dire consequences. I’ll kiss you. Right here, in this office, I’ll put on my pinkest lipstick and kiss you.”
My pulse leaps, but I just raise my brows at her, leaning back in my chair and folding my arms. “That sounds like harassment, Miss Marigold.”
Her eyes sparkle as she looks down at me. “I think what you mean isDon’t threaten me with a good time, Miss Marigold.”
My lips twitch, but I don’t answer.
“If you truly want me to never ever kiss you again, just say the word,” she begins, but I hold one hand up.
“That won’t be necessary.” Something strange is happening to me right now, a sparkling flame jumping in my chest, fed by every word we’re exchanging. The feeling began the moment Felix left, and it keeps growing, expanding—an electric buzz in my veins, a fire licking my insides, and I don’t want it to stop. Whatever dance this is, the give and take, the back and forth—I want it.
I wantmore.
“You’re trouble,” I find myself saying, the words hoarse, broken.
Juliet hums, looking thoughtful. Then she rounds the desk and hops up to sit exactly where she sat the first time we kissed. “But the good kind of trouble, right?” she says with a tilt of her head. “The kind of trouble that shakes you out of your status quo but ultimately leads you down a better path?”
“I…don’t know,” I admit, because my mind is fuzzy. “Some kind of trouble, though.”
“If you’re going to call me trouble,” she says, “I insist on being the good kind. I’m sorry, but I won’t accept anything else.” She raises her brows expectantly at me. “So?” she prompts when I remain silent. “What am I?”