Funny, I didn't even notice he wasn't in the room with us until now. Crew Ledger is my sexy new distracting boss, and I need to learn to be around him every day and not lose my head.
"Yes, lead the way," I say, walking toward him. I follow him as he shows me his office and Zane's. They are the same size as mine, and all three look down over the club.
"I ordered you both laptops. They'll be here Monday." Crew looks down at his wrist. "It's just after five. You have time to stay?" He looks at me, then Zane. "I'd like to get furniture ordered."
"I'm good with anything, but yes, I can stay."
"I'm thinking deep cherry wood, tall bookcase and a chair made for a king," Zane says, puffing out his chest.
I can't help the small laugh that escapes my lips. Crew whips his head around to look at me before moving his glare to Zane. "The books are downstairs." That's all he says before leaving us to follow him.
"Is he always like this?" I whisper to Zane.
"Nah, he's got a stick up his ass today for some reason. It's going to be fine, Berklee, you'll see."
Although I'm skeptical, I nod and follow him down the stairs.
I STOMP DOWN the stairs in a pissy mood. I have to get a grip on this situation, keep my head in the game. I've been around beautiful women before, so this should be a piece of cake. Although, I don't ever remember their skin being as soft as hers, and those eyes. . . . I want to get lost in them.
Shit.
Focus, Ledger!
On the makeshift desk, I grab the furniture book and slide it across the table where Zane and Berklee are now sitting. Next to each other. Zane grabs the book and starts flipping to the pages I've flagged. Berklee leans in and I clench my teeth as her full breast brushes against his arm. In Zane's defense, he doesn't even seem to notice. How is that possible? I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans to keep from pulling her away from him.
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
"I really don't have a preference," Zane says.
"Pick your favorite, Berklee," I tell her, my tone clipped. Those blue eyes stare up at me. I know I'm being a dick, but I just don't know how to stop.
"Well, I think they should all match. It will give a more professional feel to the club. The rooms are all the same dimension, or they seem to be. I think a simple L-shape with matching credenza and bookcase is sufficient." Her voice is confident despite the fact that she can tell I'm not impressed. I just don't know why.
"Cre-what?" Zane asks.
I'm glad he did because I have no idea what a fucking credenza is either.
Berklee laughs. She covers her mouth trying to keep it in. It's a magical sound I can see myself getting addicted to. "It's a filing cabinet, just fancier. Lateral and wood to match the other office furniture," she explains.
"Okay. Pick what you think will work and I'll get it ordered," I tell her.
She nods, grabs the book and flips through the flagged pages. I watch as she removes flags one by one. Within a few turns she's narrowed it down to two. "Do you have the room measurements? I want to make sure they'll fit."
Smart girl. "I did that before I started looking. All the sets I flagged will fit."
"Okay." She bites her bottom lip, and I have to shift in my seat at my body's reaction to that simple move. "Then I say this one. Black is sleek and will go well with the ash-colored carpeting."
I nod and take the book when she hands it to me. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. How about chairs? You all should go to the local office supply store and sit in a few. You're both tall and you'll want to make sure it fits your height."
I look down at my watch. Almost six. "What time do they close?"
"My guess is at least nine," she says.
Standing, I pull my keys out of my pocket. "I'll drive." I start toward the door. I hear them talking and the scraping of chairs. It's not until I hear her high heels clicking against the laminate flooring that I know they're following me. This is not something that has to be done today, but I've already opened my big-ass mouth so we need to follow through.
When I get in the truck, I start to rethink that. The back seat is full of boxes of flyers for opening night that I picked up today and never got around to unpacking.
"Thank God for bench seats." Zane laughs.
Damn it!
Zane steps back and motions for Berklee to slide in. I watch as he offers her his hand and helps her step up. Immediately she tugs at her skirt and slowly slides to sit beside me. She smells like fresh strawberries and I hide my smile; it fits her. Zane climbs in, and with his big body and broad shoulders, Berklee scoots just a little closer to me. Her leg, which is bare a few inches from her knee down, is leaning against my thigh.