"Sorry," she whispers when I move over toward the door.
"No worries," I croak out. I sound like a fucking frog. She's throwing me off my game today; that's not something I'm used to. The ride to the office supply store is thankfully only ten minutes. I don't know that I would have survived longer. She kept her hands on her lap, and I wanted to reach over and lace her fingers with mine. Lightly brushing my hand against her thigh, I feel the softness of her skin and fuck if I don't want to feel more of her.
Yeah, any longer and I don't know that I could've held out.
As soon as the truck is in Park, I hop out and reach out and offer her my hand without thinking. I don't want to see him helping her, touching her. I've had about all of that I can take for one day.
"Thank you," she says, holding her skirt with one hand and placing the other in mine. It takes Herculean efforts to not run my thumb across her soft skin.
I nod. Once she has two feet safely on the ground in those heels, I close the door. We meet Zane at the back of the truck and his face is lit up with a grin. I roll my eyes, which causes him to throw his head back in laughter. I give in to temptation and place my hand on the small of her back.
"What did I miss?" Berklee asks.
"Oh, nothing," Zane says, wiping tears from his eyes.
Berklee shrugs like this is normal Zane behavior and leads us into the store.
"Eyes," I grumble, and he laughs harder. He opens his mouth and I throw my hand up, stopping him. "Not a word," I say, then quicken my stride to catch up to Berklee. I keep step beside her, placing my hand on the small of her back once again, not moving it until we're in the store. I've crossed the line of unprofessional and I shouldn't risk it any further, but when I see the sales guy eating her up with his eyes, I want to knock his ass to the ground and take her away.
"Looking for tall office chairs," I hear her tell him. I watch as he takes her in from head to toe, lingering on her legs.
"For me," I say, stopping next to her. I'm not standing so close that we're touching but close enough that this jackhole gets the drift. Don't look.
His head pops up and he has to tilt it back to look up at me. I'm six-one, so not a giant, but this guy, he's not much taller than Berklee, whom I'm guessing is about five-five, five-six. "Right this way," he says, turning and walking away.
"Damn, Crew, did you have to scare the guy?" Zane says from beside me.
"I didn't scare him," I grumble, then follow Berklee who is behind the sales guy.
"This is our tall chair section," he says.
Berklee turns to me. "Start sitting." She grins.
I can't help it; I grin back at her. I try out the "tall" chairs, as does Zane.
"How do they feel? Lean back, slouch, all that. Make sure you're going to be comfortable."
We do as she says, moving around in each chair. It doesn't take us long to find what we want, both choosing the same one. "What about you?" I ask her.
"I'm sure mine will be in the next row over."
"I can show you," the sales guy pipes up.
"Oh, no, thank you. We would like two of these if you could get them ready. I'll find mine in the meantime."
She effectively dismissed him. She was polite and professional, but I can read through the lines; she was either pissed from how he was looking at her earlier or trying to diffuse my anger. First day on the job and she has me pegged. If she only knew where that anger was coming from. She probably thinks I'm pissed that he's objectifying her, and I am, but even more so that he's looking at her at all. I don't want anyone looking at her. Not like that.
Zane's laughter captures my attention. Shaking out of my thoughts, I look over and see what's so funny. Berklee is sitting in a black leather chair and spinning in circles. She looks like a little girl, and that smile on her face.
Beautiful.
"You like that one?" I ask her. I have this irrational twisting in my gut. I want to be a part of her joy, her laughter.
She plants her feet on the ground to stop spinning. Looking up at me, her face flushed, she smiles sheepishly. "Yeah, this one will work." I can tell she's trying to bring herself back from the high she just spun herself into and be professional.
Little does she know, professionalism walked out the door the minute I found out Zane hired her.
"Nice choice," the sales guy says to Berklee.
Does he have a death wish?
"We'll take it," she says, her tone all business once again. She stands and smooths out her skirt. "Do we need anything else? Printers? Office supplies?" she asks me.
"Printers, no. I ordered those when I ordered the computers. Office supplies, yeah," I say, placing my hand on the back of my neck. What the fuck do I know about ordering office supplies.