Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Particularly on a Monday.
But I didn’t roll my eyes at her bright voice the way I would have in the beginning—and that wasn’t just because I could already smell whatever undoubtedly delicious baked goods she’d brought in today. There were worse things than having someone so genuinely happy in the office at eight a.m.
I looked up from my computer as Raina stepped through my open door. She was wearing a fitted navy dress today, simple but sophisticated, the fabric skimming her curves in a way that made it difficult to keep my attention where it belonged. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, exposing the graceful line of her neck.
I noticed because I was aware of everything about her these days, and I hated that about myself, along with the fact that I was lusting over my best friend’s sister. Kurt would kick my ass if he had any inkling of the dirty thoughts I’d been having about Raina, not to mention the images of her filtering through my head while I’d stroked my dick in the shower this morning. I’d needed some kind of relief after waking up hard as stone, and much to my dismay, she’d become my favorite reoccurring fantasy to jack off to.
I’d taken to leaving my office door open most of the time so she’d have easy access. She popped in and out constantly throughout the day, more than any of my previous assistants. I realized that was because she did more work than any of them ever had.
No matter how heavy the workload I gave her, she handled it without complaint, completing every task I assigned with an efficiency that bordered on supernatural. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone this long without having to correct my assistant, let alone raise my voice at one. In just two weeks, Raina had managed to ease my burden by taking over responsibilities that should have belonged to an assistant all along but that I’d been handling myself out of sheer distrust.
I was no longer working twelve-hour days. The relief of that was almost impossible to articulate. I slept better. Liam had even commented on my improved mood at lunch last week, which I’d deflected with a grunt.
Overall, Raina was working out remarkably well.
Which made the other problem that much more frustrating.
The attraction hadn’t faded. If anything, it had intensified, sharpened by proximity and the countless small moments throughout each day when I found myself watching her instead of my computer screen. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was concentrating. The curve of her smile when she figured out a solution to a problem. The scent of her perfume lingering in my office long after she’d left.
I couldn’t allow myself to get comfortable. Couldn’t let myself rely on her too much. Being competent and having a good attitude didn’t mean I could trust her not to screw up down the road.
And it definitely didn’t mean I should be thinking about her in ways that were completely inappropriate in a work setting.
Raina crossed to my desk and placed a basket on the corner, a cloth draped over the top to conceal whatever was inside. I looked up into her blue eyes—bright, warm, and entirely too easy to get lost in.
“What’s that?” I asked. “Planning a picnic today? I’m not extending your lunch break for that.”
Most people would have bristled at my brusque tone. I was quickly learning that Raina wasn’t most people. She just smiled and rolled her eyes at me, completely unintimidated.
“They’re muffins. Blueberry.” She lifted the cloth to reveal them, and the sweet, rich scent hit me immediately. “I made them yesterday, and they turned out so good I thought you might want to try them.”
My mouth watered. “More baked goods? First the cookies, then brownies last week, now this.” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to make me fat?”
Raina laughed—a bright, unguarded sound that filled every corner of my office. It was possibly the most carefree thing I’d ever heard, and something shifted in my chest. A weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying seemed to lift, just for a moment.
“It’s not a bad thing to treat yourself every once in a while,” she said when her laughter faded. There was a sparkle in her eyes, teasing and warm. “I have a feeling you don’t do that often enough.”
She left my office then, but I knew she’d be back. She started every day the same way—checking in with me, then firing up her computer and making coffee, bringing me a cup prepared exactly the way I liked. Just a splash of cream. I’d never told her that, but she’d simply observed and adapted.
I loved a good, solid routine I could rely on. What I didn’t love was how much I’d come to rely on her.