Morgan’s eyes widen with shock, and she moves away from me.
My heart is hammering in my chest.
“Mom, Dad,” I say, rising to kiss my mom’s cheek. I get a pat on the back in greeting from my dad.
Morgan stands, too. Her cheeks are flushed. “Hi, Mrs. Cross, Mr. Cross,” Morgan greets them. I notice that her voice sounds as shaky as I feel.
“It’s Frank and Nancy. How many times do I have to tell you?” my mom good-naturedly chides her. Then, she leans over and kisses Morgan’s cheek.
My parents take the seats across from us. My dad pulls out my mom’s chair for her and waits while she sits, like he always does.
“Sorry we’re late,” my mom says to us.
“You’re not late,” I tell her.
But I wish they had been. Then, I might have—no, I would have kissed Morgan. And I don’t know whether to be pissed or relieved that I didn’t get to kiss her. Because kissing Morgan would be a bad idea.
Not the kissing part. That would be amazing; I have no doubt about that. It’s the after that would be bad. The awkwardness of the fact that we work together. We run the company together. I can’t kiss her, and I definitely can’t fuck her.
So, it’s good that we were interrupted.
Our waitress appears again and asks for my parents’ drink orders. My mom tells her that she’s going to stick with the wine I already ordered. My dad orders a whiskey sour.
The whole time she’s at the table, taking their orders, she’s making sex eyes at me. But I’m more concerned with the fact that Morgan hasn’t looked at me. Not once.
And it’s pissing me off.
I want to know what she’s thinking.
Is she relieved that we didn’t kiss? Or does she wish we had?
And I’ve turned into a thirteen-year-old girl.
Even still, I nudge her knee with mine, forcing her to look at me.
She lifts those gorgeous eyes to mine. They’re expressionless. In complete contrast to how she was looking at me a few minutes ago.
I have an odd urge to see that desire in her eyes again.
“You okay?” I whisper to her.
She nods and then turns back to the table, opening one of the menus our waitress just brought.
Okay then. I’m guessing she’s relieved we didn’t kiss.
And if that doesn’t just piss me right off.
“So, Morgan,” my dad says, “Wilder tells us you’ve come up with a business idea.”
“Frank, let’s order our food before we talk business,” my mom says.
I chuckle and pick up my own menu, trying to decide on what I want to eat, but it’s hard to focus when I’m so distracted by Morgan sitting next to me. The scent of her perfume. The way she brushes her hair back with her hand as she leans forward to read the menu. Her finger running down the list of dishes. The way she nibbles her lip in thought.
I want to nibble that lip. No, I want to bite that lip.
I want to kiss that mouth and suck on her tongue and make her moan. And—
Stop.
I’m getting a hard-on, and I really don’t want an erection while I’m sitting with my parents.
We all decide on food and place our orders with our waitress, who indecently drops a small piece of paper into my lap as she passes me by.
I look up at her, and she smiles and winks at me.
Yeah, not happening.
When I turn back, I see Morgan staring at me with barely concealed disgust in her eyes. She immediately looks away. I glance at my mom and dad to see if they saw, but they’re too busy talking to realize that the waitress dropped me a note.
I want to tell Morgan that I have no intention of reading the note, which I’m guessing has her digits on it or a message like, Meet me in the restroom in five minutes.
This isn’t the first time a waitress has dropped me a note.
But I can’t say a damn thing to Morgan in front of my parents.
Even if I could say something, what would I say?
I’m not going to fuck the waitress because I want to fuck you.
Yeah, not likely.
But I don’t want her to think that I will call the waitress after we’re finished here. So, I pick the note up and tear it up into small pieces over the table.
“What’s that you’re tearing up?” my mom asks.
“Just a receipt,” I tell her. Then, I drop the small pieces of paper into the glass candleholder that has a tea light candle burning in it, letting the pieces of paper burn up.
“Wilder!” my mom chastises. “You’ll start a fire.” She starts wafting her hands over the candle.
“That won’t start a fire.” My dad chuckles. “But you will, fanning it like that.”
I chuckle as my mom pulls her hands back.
I look at Morgan. She doesn’t look back at me, but I know she knows that I’m staring at her. And what she does do is smile.
And fuck if that smile doesn’t make me feel good.
My dad picks up his drink and has a sip. “So, the food has been ordered. Now, I’m really interested in hearing this idea of yours, Morgan. It’s the reason we’re here.”
Morgan smiles at my dad. “Okay.”
She glances at me, and I give her a look of encouragement, which seems to brighten her eyes. She looks back to my parents and starts talking. She tells them everything she told me with the same level of enthusiasm that has me burning for her again.
I can’t take my eyes off her as she talks. I’m enthralled.
I’ve never been this hot for a woman before. And I know I’m in trouble because I’ve realized that it’s not only this woman’s face and body that turns me on. It’s her mind, too. She’s smart as fuck. The way she lights up when she talks about work turns me on in a way no other woman ever has.
I might want to stick my tongue in her mouth and slide my cock up inside her pussy, but I want to talk to Morgan more. I want to know her.
She finishes talking, and my mom and dad are staring at her—smiles on their faces, exactly like I was wearing when Morgan first told me her idea.
“I knew you were smart, Morgan. That’s why we wanted you to come work for us,” my mom says. “But this…after being with us for only a short time.” She looks at my dad, as if needing his help with words.
“We’ve talked about this in the past, wanting to break into this part of the market, but we could never make the figures work. But, if you’re telling us that you have a way to make this work without losing product quality…” My dad leans back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. “Brilliant, Morgan. Really brilliant.”
With Morgan bringing this great thing to the table, I was expecting to experience some level of jealousy on my part, purely because my mom and dad had brought her in and given her half of my job. And, now, she’s living up to their high expectations, and so far, I’ve done fuck all, except for lust after her.
But I don’t feel jealous. I actually feel…proud. Like Morgan’s somehow mine to be proud of.
But she’s not yours, assface. She’s your business partner and nothing more.
Morgan looks at me, the praise lighting up her eyes.
And I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than I do right now.
I shove the thought away. “I told you they’d love it,” I say to her.
Her smile softens on me.
My heart starts to thud in my chest.
Then, she looks away.
A moment later, our waitress turns up with our food, putting plates in front of us.
When the waitress is gone, my dad picks his knife and fork up. “I want you both on this.” He points his knife at me and then Morgan.
I glance at Morgan to see how she feels about this. She’s smiling, so I take that as a good thing.
“I want the both of you to draw up a proposal for this, pros and cons, and send them to me by Monday at the latest.”
I meet Morgan’s twinkling eyes.
“Sure thing,” we both say at the same time.
I grin, and she smiles at me.
Dragging my eyes from her, I pick up my knife and fork.
And I won’t deny that I’m thrilled at the prospect of having to work closely with Morgan on this over the next few days—maybe even the weekend, if I’m lucky.