Stay with Me Forever. Farrah Rochon

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СКАЧАТЬ best friend, Shayla Kirkland, used to joke, saying that the snooze button was Paxton’s real best friend.

      “No need to get upset,” Sawyer said. “It’s just nice to see that you’re still living up to your name.”

      Paxton let out an aggravated sigh. “Why did Ray Burrell have to quit?”

      He slapped a hand to his chest, his dark brown eyes wounded. “I’ll try to pretend that doesn’t hurt.”

      She gave him some serious side-eye action before walking over to the other desk, the one that faced a wall. A wall. Why hadn’t she set her alarm?

      Sawyer followed her. Great.

      He assumed the position he’d taken on the other side of the long conference table, crossing his arms over his chest and perching himself on the edge of it.

      “Why didn’t you tell me that you were the project manager?” Sawyer asked.

      “When would I have gotten the chance to tell you? I only came into town a few days ago. Besides, I didn’t think I had to. I figured you would have run across it while you were reviewing the information you were given when they transferred you to this project.”

      “I haven’t had much time to review the materials. I was out of town this weekend. A family thing.”

      “That’s what I was told during the meeting on Friday,” she said.

      “It was a party for my aunt Lydia,” he explained. He paused for a moment before continuing in a slightly lower tone. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard or not, but I’m no longer married.”

      Paxton put her hand up. “Not my business.”

      His head jerked back a bit. “So it really is like that?”

      “Look, Sawyer, it’s not my business where you spend your free time or who you spend your time with.” She moved her briefcase to the desk and turned to him. Mimicking his pose, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “As long as you understand that between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., your time is my time.”

      He made a production of looking at his watch. “Is that the case even when you come in at eight forty-five?”

      She’d placed the ball squarely on the tee for that one.

      Doing her best to maintain a calm, professional air, she said, “I apologize for being late. As project manager I should be the one setting the example.”

      “I was only joking, Pax.” She continued to stare at him. Waiting. “I mean Paxton,” he corrected himself with a pinch of annoyance.

      “Thank you.”

      The laugh he huffed out was devoid of all humor, but Paxton would not allow it to affect her. The only way she would get through these next four weeks with her sanity intact was if she stayed within the boundaries she’d laid out in her head the minute she had learned Sawyer would be replacing Ray Burrell as the state’s civil engineer on this project. Allowing Sawyer to speak to her in such familiar terms crossed those boundaries.

      “I’m just trying to be professional here,” she explained.

      “Yeah, I get it,” he said, pushing himself up from the table. The traces of humor that had colored his voice earlier were nowhere to be found. “I would, however, appreciate a call if you know you’re running late. Just, you know, as a professional courtesy.”

      Paxton acknowledged the slight sting from his words. She guessed she deserved that.

      “I agree,” she said. “But I don’t have your number.”

      The moment the words left her mouth the mood in the room shifted. Sawyer’s gaze caught hers and held. Her admission was almost laughable, considering their history. She had knowledge of his body in the most primitive, elemental way, yet she didn’t even know his phone number.

      “I guess that’s something we’ll have to rectify,” Sawyer said.

      “Yes.” She cleared her throat. Nodded. “I’ll need your number in case I need to get in touch with you about something for the project.”

      His gaze remained on her. Probing. Penetrating. It took everything she had within her not to squirm.

      One brow peaked over his dark brown eyes. “Is that the only reason?”

      “Yes,” Paxton said. “That is the only reason I will need your number.”

      He released another of those irritated breaths, running a hand down his face before assaulting her once again with that intense stare.

      “Trying to pretend it didn’t happen doesn’t erase the fact that it did, Paxton. You know that, don’t you?”

      The subtle drop in pitch of his already decadently deep voice caused a million butterflies to take flight in her belly. Her body reacted to the mere memory of hearing that voice. She could still feel it on her skin, the goose bumps that rose as he whispered the sexiest words imaginable into her ear as his body slowly entered hers.

      Paxton sucked in a deep breath. She could not do this to herself. Would not.

      There was too much at stake to get distracted by Sawyer and his seductive voice, or the subtle dip in his chin that begged for her tongue to lick at it, or those deep brown bedroom eyes that saw too much. She needed to remain focused. She had a coworker back in Little Rock who tried to show her up every chance he got. Clay Ridgely was on a mission to take Paxton’s spot as the leading project manager, and she’d be damned if she let him do it.

      That’s why she was determined to ignore the hormones spinning around inside her. She had too much riding on this project to allow anything to get in the way of it, especially an out-of-control libido.

      With a will she didn’t realize she possessed, Paxton reined in her body’s reaction to him and focused on the myriad reasons why it was important they keep things strictly professional.

      “It’s obvious I will have to set some ground rules on how things will work over these next four weeks,” she said.

      “Ground rules?”

      “Yes,” Paxton answered. “We are here to do a job, and that’s the only thing I plan to discuss while we’re here. This conference room is small enough. We don’t have any room for our personal lives to invade it. Are we clear?”

      “No,” he said.

      Her head jerked back. “Excuse me?”

      “I disagree. I think it would be better for both of us if we tackled this issue head-on instead of allowing it to hover over us.” He shrugged. “Like you said, this place is small. We don’t have room for that eight-hundred-pound gorilla you refuse to talk about.”

      Just the knowledge that they were both thinking about those hours they spent together caused a tingling sensation to travel up and down her back.

      This would be a long four weeks.

      But she СКАЧАТЬ