Not Safe for Work(56)

“Gee, thanks.”

She shrugged. “Just saying. And hey, if she’s willing to put up with you after you’ve been working like this, then either you are one hell of a lay, or there’s more to it than just bumping uglies.”

I raised an eyebrow. No one in the Zone was as crude as Teagan when she hadn’t slept in a while. “I’ll take that as a compliment to my sexual prowess, then.”

“You would.”

“What? Are you implying I’m not good in bed? As if you’d have any possible way of knowing that?”

“No, I just think there’s more going on than you’re willing to admit, which is just adorably Jon McNeill.”

“What are you talking about?” I laughed in spite of the sudden rush of heat to my cheeks.

“Even when I’ve asked about her, you haven’t said two words about her.” She shot me a pointed look. “And the only time I’ve ever known you to not kiss and tell at all is when you’ve got feelings for someone.”

Or when it might make things awkward at work. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Bullshit,” she said.

“If it was, I would tell you.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but just then, the door opened and Marie came in with two towering Starbucks cups.

“Figured you two could use some coffee,” she said.

“Oh, Marie, I could kiss you right now,” Teagan said. They looked at each other, both blinking in surprise. Teagan cleared her throat. “Sorry. Sleep deprivation. Makes my mouth move before my brain does.”

Marie laughed quietly but said nothing.

Teagan took her coffee. “Anyway, thanks for the coffee. Now I just need to find a rubber tube and a syringe—”

“Teagan.” I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “You’re supposed to drink it, not shoot up with it.”

“Hey, desperate times, desperate measures.” She gestured at me with her coffee cup. “I don’t tell you how to stay awake, you don’t tell me.”

Marie laughed, then gestured at my model. “How are you coming along?”

“So far, so good. I’ll let you know if the ETA changes.”

“Okay, perf—” She grimaced in Teagan’s direction. “Teagan, must you put that so close to the model?”

“What? Here?” Teagan looked at her coffee cup, which was right beside the front steps of the nearly completed building, and shrugged. “It’s fine. I haven’t knocked one over yet.”

Marie pursed her lips, and for a moment, I thought she was going to order her to move the coffee cup. Instead, she simply said, “Just be careful.”

Marie was oddly calm and relaxed this morning, especially with so many projects going right now. I already knew Rick had been behind our day off, and he must have also adamantly reassured her and Mitchell that the Horizon Developing projects weren’t as urgent as they’d thought. As long as Rick wasn’t in a huge rush, then Marie wasn’t either, probably because the other partners weren’t breathing fire down her neck. He said jump, we said how high. He said chill out, we could all relax.

Rick, I owe you so big.

She gestured at my model. “Anyway, looks good. How much more time do you think you need?”

“Barring any unforeseens, I should have it to you by the end of the day Monday.”

Her lips tightened. “That’s cutting it close, but… Well, let me know when it’s done.”

“Will do.”

Marie left Teagan and me to our work. After the door banged shut behind Marie, Teagan let out a sharp breath.

“Jesus Christ on a pogo stick,” Teagan said. “You’re in a good mood. She’s being civil. Is she getting laid too?”

I choked on my coffee, coughing a couple of times in between laughing. “Damn it, Teagan, I did not need that mental image.”

“Well, now you know how I feel when I picture you with someone.”

“Then quit picturing it.”

“Quit coming in here with that smug ‘I got my dick wet’ smirk on your face, and I’ll—”

“Classy, Teagan.” I chuckled. “And what the hell? I thought your man put out on a regular basis.”

“He does, but not when I’m in deadline mode.”

“Well, there’s nothing that says you have to go home and be a—”

“Watch yourself, McNeill.” She eyed me. “Now come on, I want to know about this girl who’s making your heart pitter patter. If nothing else, to get the images of Beelzebub copulating out of my head.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Seriously.” Is there?

She cocked her head and batted her eyes. “Come on, Jon. This coffee is only going to do so much. I need juicy gossip to keep me awake”

Oh, this gossip would wake you up quick, fast and in a hurry, my dear. “T, it’s nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“If I make something up just to keep you awake, would—”

“Damn you, McNeill, this is a matter of life and death.”

I laughed. “Since when is my sex life a matter of life and death for anyone but me?”

“You don’t keep me awake with gossip, I fall asleep, this model doesn’t get done, and Dawson murders me.” She paused. “No pressure or anything.”