Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(5)

She took a deep breath, eyes still fixed on the screen. This was embarrassing, not fatal. Since Claire-isms were a constant of her everyday life, she’d grown a thick skin and tended to simply own her mistakes outright. “Because, Mr. Anderson, I need to be looking at the computer monitor, not you. This description has to be edited by lunch.”

He leaned against her doorframe, seeming surprised by her honesty. And intrigued. He studied her for a beat, as though making up his mind about something, and then nodded slightly. “Well, I have the perfect solution. Look at your monitor until lunch, then look at me during lunch.”

Had he just asked her out? He was her boss or something. Surely there was a rule against this. And that alone made her want to accept—to finally break a rule and do something irresponsible, unexpected, or forbidden.

Her pulse stuttered. Yes. She wanted to say yes, and he knew it. A satisfied smile stretched his mouth, and Claire realized she was way out of her depth. Why would he want to go out to lunch with her? He could have anyone he crooked his finger at…

No. She needed to say no. She must have heard him wrong or was reading too much into his offer. Maybe he planned to meet in the lunchroom where most of the employees ate together, and he hadn’t meant that the way it sounded. Besides, he didn’t strike her as a total loser, and that’s pretty much all she seemed to attract.

The photo of the urn she was staring at was reduced to a blur as every molecule in her screamed for her to meet his gaze. Dammit! Pull yourself together, Claire. This is not the time and place to begin crushing on someone—and certainly not him. Still, she couldn’t help meeting his eyes. Her heart beat faster and her whole body tightened under his intense stare.

“I’ll take that as a yes to my lunch offer.” At her sharp intake of air, his smile broadened. “The jacket is a nice look for you,” he said.

She slid it off her shoulders. “Oh, yeah. Thanks for the loan. I fixed the tear in my skirt, so I don’t need it anymore.” Carefully, she folded it in half and held it out to him.

He stepped closer and her pulse stuttered like a pinball machine. He reached out and took the coat from her, brushing her arm in the process. “My job for years was to cover people’s asses. Never before has the job been so pleasant.”

Blood rushed to her face in a hot wave. Yeah. Way out of her depth. “Listen, about lunch. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thanks anyway, Mr. Anderson.”

“Please call me Will, and I think it’s a great idea. The best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

She shook her head, not knowing what to say. He terrified her—not in a bad way, but just from the unnatural pull she felt toward him. He seemed too good to be true, and Claire had learned a long time ago—that kind of luck wasn’t meant for her.

“Are you married?” he asked.

She shook her head again and continued shaking it as he ran through several more options.

“Engaged? Attached? Committed to? Living with? …No?” He snapped his fingers. “Ah! Living without. Perhaps men aren’t your thing?”

That caused her to gasp, and the blush burned all the way over her scalp. “No, no. It’s—”

“Good.” He folded the jacket over the back of a chair facing her desk, the hint of a smile teasing the corners of his eyes again. “Because in all my years of covering people’s asses, yours is by far the best I’ve ever covered. And I want to take the both of you out for lunch.”

How could she say no to that? Um. Like this. “Thanks. Both my backside and I are flattered, but we can’t.”

“Perhaps you should let it speak for itself.”

God, his grin was gorgeous. And he was funny. She needed funny. She needed a lot of things, but this had disaster written all over it. Temp job or not, she was placed here by her best friend and he was her boss, for Pete’s sake. “Sorry. It’s shy.”

“That’s a shame. I was hoping to get to know both of you much better. Maybe get on a first-name basis.”

Holy crap, he had a dirty mouth and mind. She fought the urge to shift in her chair and relieve the ache traveling through her body. She’d never encountered a man this straightforward. She loved it.

Her eyes traveled from her monitor and landed on a vee of tanned skin exposed by his partially opened dress shirt. He’d seemed out of his element in a coat and tie. This, though still not quite right, was much better. Her eyes paused momentarily on his lips, and when his smile broadened, her gaze jerked to his eyes. Busted again.

“You want to say yes,” he whispered and leaned closer from across her desk. “Both of you do. Both of you should.”

Holy freaking shit. She remained stone-still as he placed his palms on her desk and leaned even closer, sending shivers down her spine. There was that smell again—mint and man. And breathing it in made her a little dizzy. She held her breath as he spoke. “I survived against all odds for two tours because of my uncanny instinct to read people. I’m pretty sure I read this correctly, Claire Maddox. I certainly hope I did.”

And right before she turned into a puddle of mush, he backed away. “I’m across the lobby if you get hungry.”

“I already have lunch plans,” she muttered halfheartedly, hoping Heather was free so she wouldn’t get caught in a total lie.

“You could always cancel and join me instead,” he said with a wink.