“No worries.” I wave him off.
“Maybe we can grab lunch sometime. My treat.”
“I’d like that.”
He pulls out his cell and I rattle off my number. I dart my gaze over his shoulder to see Heather walking into the lobby and heading for the elevators. “Gotta go. Text me.”
“Hey, girl,” I say, catching up to Heather.
“Hey,” she chirps. “Was that Spencer?”
“Yep.” I snicker and blow into the small hole of my lid. “He wants to take me to lunch to make up for being a dick.”
“Which time?” She laughs. “Does he work in the building?”
I nod. “He’s an architect on the eighth floor. I didn’t know there were two different Davises in this building.”
Heather nods. “Yeah. Ryan is our cousin. He and Cannon own this building together. Ryan is the one responsible for those gazillion-dollar mansions you see tucked behind those big tall gates. He also builds apartments, condos, and those lofts downtown near the port.”
I raise my brows. “I love those.”
She grins. “He also remodeled my apartment building.”
“He does great work.”
“I know, right?”
I’ve yet to meet my new boss—her brother—the mysterious Mr. Cannon Davis. Despite her promise to introduce us weeks ago.
“I missed you this weekend. Did you have fun on your getaway with Jesse?”
Her cheeks flush and she grins. “I did.”
“Oh my God, Heather, you’re blushing.” I laugh.
“Shut up. I am not.” The elevator slides open, and we step inside. “Did you go to Veil this weekend?” she asks.
“I went Saturday. X sent me a beautiful dress and heels.”
“Oh, you think you're fancy now?” she jokes.
“Incoming,” I warn under my breath just before Tara—the office gossip queen—steps inside.
“Phew. Thanks for holding it.” I glance at Heather, and she cracks a smile. “This thing takes forever to make its way back down.”
Just as the doors start to slide closed, a hand slips between them, causing the doors to jerk open. I gasp as the most delicious man I’ve ever laid eyes on steps inside, sucking all the oxygen from my lungs.
“Good morning,” he mumbles, and I almost swallow my tongue when our eyes lock.
Fucking hell. He’s beautiful.
His brown hair is short on the sides and longer on the top. His eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and a dark scruff lines his jaw. His suit is expensive and looks like it was made just for him. Probably was.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach when I notice his eyes flick down to my bare legs and slowly trail back up to my face, but his expression never changes.
“Makayla,” Heather’s voice cuts in.
I blink slowly before tearing my gaze from his. “Hmm?”
She jerks her head to the side. “This is my brother, Cannon.”
My gaze slides back to him, then to his outstretched hand.
“Hi.” I smile, taking his hand, and wince. His touch sends an electric current shooting up my arm. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too, Makayla.”
My stomach dips at the sound of my name rolling off his tongue.
Tara nudges my foot with the pointy tip of her heel, and my eyes slide in her direction to see her smirking.
The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors glide open. “See you at lunch,” Heather calls out as Tara and I step out.
Unable to form any words, I just hold up my hand and wave.
“Damn, girl,” Tara hoots. “I would give my left titty to have him look at me like that.”
I laugh off her comment and ask, “Is the other Mr. Davis as attractive as he is?”
“Who, Ryan?” She looks over at me with wide eyes. “Oh God.” She fans herself, and I laugh harder.
“Makayla,” Jane calls out, pointing to an arrangement of blue roses just as I pass her desk. Slapping a hand to my chest, I stuck in a breath as the sound of my racing heart fills my ears.
Jane gives me a conspiratorial wink, misinterpreting my fear for excitement.
Pasting a smile on my face, I move over to stand in front of her desk. “Those are beautiful, Jane.”
“I’m glad you think so. They’re for you.”
“Really?” I tilt my head. “Is there a card?”
She plucks it from the other side of the arrangement and passes it to me.
Setting my coffee cup down on her desk, I rip open the envelope and slide out the card. My heart rate slows and my shoulders sag in relief.
A unique flower for a unique woman. ~ X
“I know that look,” Jane drawls.
I can’t help but smile. “What look?”
“Love.” She winks.
The smile slips from my face. “I’m not in love.” Am I?
“Okay.” Jane nods as if to say “Sure you’re not.”
How can I be in love with X? I’ve never even seen his face. Do I know him? The basic stuff, sure. I know he’s thirty-seven, never been married, no kids, and has his own business. His favorite food is steak—preferably cooked on the grill—but his favorite thing to eat is me. His words. He takes his coffee black with just a splash of cream, no sugar, and his favorite color is black.
Isn’t it normal to want to know the person you’re having sex with?
However, the only thing X knows about me is how I like to be fucked and the sounds I make when I come.
Wrapping one hand around the neck of the vase, I pick up my coffee with the other and say, “I’m not in love. It’s complicated.”
I turn on my heel and head for my office as Jane’s laughter rings out behind me.
“Do you think I’m in love with X?”
Heather stops mid-chew and frowns. “Do you think you’re in love with X?”
Shrugging, I set my sandwich down and brush off my hands. “I don’t know. He sent me flowers today—blue roses.” I raise my brows. “Coincidence?”
“You know what I think?”
I reach for my drink and take a sip. “Hmm?”
“I think you should
