Down and Out(43)

I match his stance, crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s not gonna happen, Declan, so just forget about it.”
The white butterfly bandage over his right eye wrinkles as his dark brows pull together. “Why? We’ve just established there’s a mutual interest, so—”
“So, what would happen when it’s over? You’re my boss, Declan, and I’m staying with you. I have no foot to stand on when things go south.” He could kick me out and fire me in the blink of an eye, and I’d have no option but to take it.
’Course he can do that now, too, if I don’t go along with it. . .
Shit.
He frowns, his jaw working under his bruised skin. “You really think I’d do that to you?”
I blink and look away. “There’d be nothing stopping you.” He’s the one who has all the power, and I’m the one at the mercy of his whims. It’s the cold, hard truth and there’ll be no escaping it unless I quit and move out, and then. . . Well, then I’ll be back at square one. No job and sleeping in the backseat of my car.
“Nothing except common f*cking decency.” I glance up at Declan’s harsh tone, seeing him stare back at me intently. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Savannah. You have my word that whatever happens between us—or doesn’t—stays separate from our professional relationship.”
I don’t have a whole lot of experience with people who have common decency, but as I stare at Declan, studying the seriousness of his face, I think maybe I’m finally starting to get a good look at it.





Savannah smiles wryly. “Can I get that in writing?”
My teeth catch my bottom lip in a wide grin. “I think that can be arranged.”
Her gaze lingers on me for a moment before she opens the fridge. “What do you want for dinner?”
I cross the two steps to the fridge and place my palm on the cold stainless steel, closing it. “Actually, I was thinking we could order in. It wouldn’t be much of a date if I made you cook for me. I mean, guys are supposed to pay for dinner, right?” Seeing as how I’ve never actually been on a date, I have no freaking clue. But it seems legit.
Her eyes widen as she splutters, “You want to do that now?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Because I haven’t even showered today—”
“Go. Take a shower.” I couldn’t care less if she actually does or not. She could roll around in the mud and I’d still be on her like a fat kid on cake. I’m not going to let something as trivial as a shower get in the way of this. “I’ll order us something. Chinese okay?”
She nibbles her lip for what seems like forever before she finally nods. “Sweet and sour chicken for me, please.”
I watch her walk down the hallway, toward the bathroom, as she takes the rubber band out of her hair and shakes out her long waves. The act itself is innocent enough, but pair that with the super-short shorts she has on and all I see is perfect, creamy skin for miles and golden-brown waves I want to get lost in. Never in my life have I wanted someone so much and I know when it finally does happen, it’ll be explosive.
How could it not be with a firecracker like that?

Thirty minutes later, I kick the front door shut and pause with the giant brown paper bag in my arms, seeing Savannah stand at the end of the hallway. Her damp hair’s back in a low ponytail and draped over her shoulder. She fiddles with the ends, looking . . . nervous.
“I didn’t know what to wear,” she says, glancing down at her black and white baseball shirt and those cotton sleep shorts I like so much.
I can’t take my eyes off the sliver of skin peeking out from the slightly-too-short shirt and slightly-too-low shorts. It’s a dangerous combination.
Feeling the blood leave my brain and head south, I clear my throat and look back up at her. “You look beautiful.” I walk over to the table in the dining nook before I do something to really embarrass myself, like pop a chubby.
Savannah comes to stand next to me, helping me pull containers out of the bag. That fresh-from-the-shower smell is all I seem to notice, and it takes everything in me not to just grab her, sling her over my shoulder, and carry her back to my room like some kind of caveman. That fruity, strawberry-laced shit is wreaking havoc on my brain.
I shake my head, amazed at how bad I have it for this girl when I haven’t even seen her naked yet.
“Everything okay?”
I glance at Savannah, seeing her frown at me, and say, “I don’t know yet, Kitten. I’ll have to get back to you.”
At her confused look, I pull out my chair, sighing as I sit down. “You’ve got me so wrapped up, I don’t know which way is up anymore.”
She grins and sits across from me, opening her Styrofoam box and grabbing a set of plastic utensils from the middle of the table. “Is that why you’re doing this whole date thing? ’Cause you’re not thinking clearly?”
I shrug and yank the last fork from the center of the table. “I don’t really know why I’m doing this, and I have no idea how it’s going to turn out. It could either be the greatest thing to ever happen to me, or the biggest mistake of my life.”
She scoffs, leaning back in her chair as she pops a piece of chicken into her mouth. As she chews, she smiles sardonically. “Gee, thanks.”
One shoulder lifts in a lazy shrug. “Well, it’s true. I don’t know how this is gonna play out. All I know is that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t find out.”